Mumbai Kay Do Jawan Jism Ka Milaap

I was sitting at home playing with my pictures and collection of underwear one afternoon when the doorbell rang. My parents were gone for a long weekend, so I felt safe. I looked out the window and saw her at the door. She was wearing a dress that came to just below mid thigh, and suntan pantyhose. She had an incredible body, with nicely developed breasts, and the right curves for her age. She had that bag she seemed to carry all the time, which she had shown us at the school that carried all of her investigative stuff. I had to think on the fly. I had never killed someone close to home, much less in the house, so I decided to go on instinct. I opened the door, and she introduced herself. I said that I had heard her speak before, and admired her work. I took her into the living room, where I had thrown an afghan over the pictures and underwear. I asked if she would like a drink, and she said yes to a glass of lemonade. I liked that- the taste would cover the taste of the. Things were good sometimes, and they were bad sometimes…but they were never boring.’ Angie gave him another nod. ‘Gotcha. How long were you married?’ ‘Three years—…well, two and a half, technically. Although we were already together four years before that.’ ‘I see…did you know her for very long before you started dating?’ ‘No, actually, someone set us up on a blind date,’ he told her. ‘So we actually met as we started dating.’ Ahhh, thought Angie, arching her eyebrows as she jotted down this tid. That explains a good little bit. She did another mental calculation and determined this meant Sean had met the woman when he was about thirty. So it seemed he wasn’t the type to rush into things with a girlfriend. And Angie had never felt there should be a standard statute of time to elapse, long or short, prior to marriage. Maybe one of them pressured the other into commitment, maybe there were other outside factors involved…anything was possible. Oh well, there would be plenty of time.
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