Par mere sam ne eak sundar mast bhabhi rahte thi who kya dikhti thi aapko kya batau jab bhi me unko dekhta tha to me bathroom me jake ke muth mar deta...tha par muje unka nam nahi pata tha eak din jab bhabhi ko gas ka silindar badal na tha or who unko aata nahi tha to me aapni balkani me khada tha or unko dekh ne ka eantjar kar raha tha to bhabhi aayi or mujko easara kiya k mere gar aao mere to hosh ud gaye me khushi k mare t-shirt or lowar pahan ke unke gar chala gaya or unko pucha kya kam tha. The only light came from the low-wattage bulb above the sink. From the foot of his bed, Gwen continued to study him in the dim light. He seemed so unlike anyone else she had ever known. His big frame, that powerful body which had brought her so much pleasure and passion, filled up most of the bed. But it wasn’t just size which made him different. His accent, his style, his outlook on life, and, of course, his being wounded in Vietnam, all made him so incredibly unique. Sometimes Gwen couldn’t. More

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