As we were family friends I used to visit their house often to after uncle passed away I visited more frequently and my mom also used to ask me to go and give a visit to their house so that they don’t feel lonely, so aunty became close to me slowly and used to discuss with m regarding financial matter where to invest money and how they get returns and how their family avoiding them after they lost uncle etc I used to console her every time and I myself felt depressed some times after returning home. As per my suggestion both her children were joined in a hostel to continue studies without any depression and its going well.As usual I used to visit their house and I became more close as a family member and we used to discuss almost any thing and slowly aunty also coming out of depression and I am happy for that, one day I went to aunty house after college and saw the door was locked generally aunty won’t lock the door when she is home so I was retuning back when I heard aunty shouting. " He cut the elastic and the remaining pieces of my wife's panties fell to the floor. She stood there, shoulders hunched, mascara streaking down her face, her titties hanging out of the holes he'd cut in the bra. They looked awkward and stupid and somehow made her look even more pathetic than I'd ever seen her before. John crouched down and ran the blade down the inside of each leg, peeling off her stockings like a banana skin. He finished by having her step out of the shoes, then stood back up. Without her heels on, he towered over her off and she slumped her back even further. He took her by the hand. "Come on," he said. John led her into the bathroom and handed her the finished paper. "Tear it up and throw it in the toilet," he ordered. "Where it belongs." She was sobbing now, tears streaming down her face, body shaking. She tore the pages crossways, then again and again until it was in little pieces, the paper fluttering down and floating on the water. "Go on," he said with an.
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