Hot Bhabhi Romance with Husband Friend

Gives me a little smile, I think it'ssupposed to be reassuring, as if to say, well, that's what women do,isn't it? No big deal. Whether with a kiss, o... just a touch of lips,you leave your mark. My mark. Mine. I'm not invisible, not tonight, notmy night. On the wineglass, a smudge of red. Mine.Like surgeons, we cut in tiny strokes, carve this time into tiny bites.The fork pierces, carries. A little food, a sentence. A sip of wine, astory. Again, again. I write his biography. He writes mine. We. Because Molo now knew in his heart, that this journey could claim his soul as well as his life. It would be ironic to lose one's soul only a little while after he'd found out he had one to begin with.The Pilgrim began walking towards the point in the horizon the stone had shown earlier. He gestured for Molo to follow without another word. Molo seemed consternated, because they had been walking all night, again. What little water they found at times just before dawn, was barely enough to sustain. More

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