Indian Aunty Bath

I spotted young Rose who pulled me out of the crowd and told me I had plenty of time to meet everyone.I couldn't get over this girl, gal, woman. She made the hair on my arms tingle. She was sweet but yet sassy. I asked her about herself and she told me very little. About the oddest thing I found out was that all the women in her line were named Rose. Her great-grandma was the Rose that passed away. Her grandmother was Rosie. Her mom was Rosetta, and she was back to Rose again. I didn't realize it but all the time we sat together talking she was holding my hand.After all the introductions were done and people got their drinks and snacks, Rosie got up and introduced Frank, my grandpa. Of course most everyone knew him. He was about to tell his story and how he met Rose.He started by singing a song he wrote for Rose.'A Bed Of Roses:She was called a scarlet woman by the peopleWho would go to church but left me in the streetWith no parents of my own, I never had a homeAnd an eighteen year. Carol had a great body and I loved watching Sam her do it all to each other. I always had the feeling that she liked being watched too.They had gotten married at graduation and we had just gotten closer after that as we took jobs in the same town.It seemed I had a call weekly to join them at their place for another of their get-togethers. Then after a while it was understood I would arrive at their home each Friday, party or not. I was never shy and had met a lot of great females at their bashes... In fact I used to wonder how they drew so many single, good looking women to their parties amidst the married couples. I didn't wonder too much, beyond speculating that they were trying unsuccessfully to get me married off, but I was appreciative none-the-less.On this particular night I had noticed an appealing new face and figure. She was not drop dead gorgeous, like Carol, but she was very pretty, very trim, athletic looking and nicely endowed. What struck me I think was how self assured.
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