We checked our tickets and we r in the same coach and next berth. I was feeling happy that I have got ample time to impress and take our relationship to next level.Train started and we were talking on different subjects and her cleavage was visible in here kurti. I was looking that now and then and she observed that and a killing smile again whih made me more confident.Topics were changing slowly and started about personal things.She told that her husband runs a different business and he will be traveling a lot. This gave me more courage to approach her. Her father passed away recently it seems and i saw tears in her eyes and immediately i hold her hands to console her. She was in shock and happiness. From then i was holding her hand and pressing it very sensibly. she was not at all resisting me.We slept that night and reached Hyderabad. We got down and while departing she invited me to her house for dinner next day. This gave me a confidence that she is expecting more from me. I was. You see, long ago Imade a commitment to myself, and a vow to my husband, that I would be hisideal mate. Remember? That I'd give him great sex every day, and doeverything else his first wife wouldn't do, like cook for him, clean andiron his clothes, be attractive and be there for him with a big hug andkiss when he came in the door. The stereotypical ideal wife, right? Itall seemed so fairy-tale, happily-ever-after back then. It was what Iwanted so badly and marrying Mark was totally a dream come true.But ... I feel a little different now. No, not different enough that Idon't still love my life and not different enough to want to changeanything, just different. I know I'm a very lucky guy to experience someof the best aspects of a woman's life and, with one serious exception,not many of the worst ones. But I always knew I was really a guy - with avagina and boobs and beautiful hair and pretty clothes, yes, but still aguy. My left hand is a persistent reminder, despite those.
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