The mirror on the opposite wall gave me a good view.Asha and the Russian came into the room. Asha sat down on the bed, facing the mirror. I watched as a pair of large hands came up from behind and caressed her breasts. My wife’s luscious breasts were being touched, teased, squeezed and caressed by a total stranger.As the Russians hands feasted themselves on her breasts, Asha looked at herself in the mirror, smiling sensually at the sight she saw. Asha then pulled him round and made him bury his face in her cleavage. As he kissed that, my wife moaned loudly. The Russians hands were now all over Asha’s beautiful body. The shimmery satin fabric of her churidar kurta, stuck to her like a second skin, giving the Russian all the encouragement he needed!His hands roamed freely over Asha’s voluptuous body, her moans and sighs serving only to heighten his daring. As I watched, I realized that Asha wanted more and more of him. She suddenly got up and left the room, asking the Russian to wait.. But make no mistake, that has to happen or it’s a no go, and I will know immediately if they’re playing me. And, I’m dead-mortal-lead-pipe-cinch certain that they’re going to be thinking of trying to.”“Understood,” he said. “And, I’ll be doing my level best to make certain that they ‘don’t’ try.” I nodded, but it was a nod laden with dubiosity.****The couple at the door knocked and the knock was answered.“Mom! Dad! I’m surprised. Dad, I thought you were in Tucson,” said Abigail. She waved her parents inside, well the night was cold, summer’s end notwithstanding.“I was, Abbs. I’m back. And we have some serious stuff to talk about,” said Gregory Williams. “Is Owen around?”“No not yet, tomorrow I think; he called to tell me that,” said Abigail. Her look reflected her father’s tone of voice. The conversation was going to be serious as hell.Five minutes later, coffee poured, first sips taken, the three of them: parents, and daughter, settled in at the formal dinette table down the long.
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