Indian Village Wife's Life. mp4

I shared a very close friendship with her. So close that even the difference between our ages didn’t matter. One day I asked Urmila ‘why don’t you wear T-Shirt and Jeans like other girls?’ . First she hesistated to answered but I asked her repetadly. She looked shy but the replied ‘My boobs looks stretched tight when I wear T-Shirt or top’. I looked at her and smile and said ‘Then You must be turning many heads when you walked on the road’.She smiled and became silent.I hold her hand and commented to her that ‘I wanted to see you in white Tee and tight Jeans’. Then we continue discussing on many topics. It was a saturday when Urmila came to me to solve some doubt. I was reading a book in Library as all of my lectures were finished. She came and sits besides me and we started talking. We were sitting at almost far end of the library so our desk was completely invisible for librarian.Urmila was looking disturbed. I asked her ‘What happened?’ . She told me she is so sick of her. Led by the chocolate on her tongue, she tried bringing herself back to the ferry and its comforting swell of people. She wanted company, and she wanted to talk to someone, but none of her old friends would recognize her. That, and she had mostly fallen out of touch with them anyway. Then she realized that she wanted the sisterhood. She wanted to run up and confide all her troubles to Madame Juliette. She perked up a little, realizing that she could go back there the next day and talk things over with them. They probably knew how to safely usher new found youth into a tired old mind. Just for a minute she forgot Ralph, and was back in the ferry, viewing the businessman seated in front of her, dressed in a gray pinstriped suit, and smelling remarkably like that end of the day fragrance, perfume overused in the masking of sweat. Laura wondered for a moment whether perfume actually made the smell of sweat more bearable, or whether it made just enough available so that one’s imagination.
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