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Suddenly our apartment doorbell rang.“Who is it, Aju, can you check?” she shouted from the kitchen. By Aju, she meant me. My name is Arjun Dharma.I went to see who it was this late at night. Rina asked a couple more times, but I didn’t say a word. After some time, I walked into the kitchen. She was still busy washing the dishes, oblivious to what was about to happen. My wife Rina is a dusky beauty. Her figure is 34-26-36, she stands at 5’1″. She has long hair, black hair, a cute child-like face with dimples. Her breasts are C cups. Slightly small for my taste, but overall she is a complete package.On top of that, being a Christian originally, she wears proper western outfits. Only a fool would be not attracted to her, especially sexually.Getting back to the story, I stood there, ogling at her behind. That night Rina was wearing a sexy pink silk nighty that ended above her knees. I scanned her from bottom to top. Starting from her feet inside soft slippers, waxed smooth, uncovered. " I had never been so well behaved. At the point I heard Marion's mother whisper to her husband, "He's such a nice boy Arthur," I figured I was on easy street. If only she could have known some of the thoughts I was having, looking at her daughter standing there in those figure hugging jeans. More than likely Mr. Cardiff already knew. He was staring at me, such as one might ponder a squashed ant. "We want her back no later than 9 p.m. sharp, alright?" he barked. Dad assured him he would have her home on time. I was luckier than most. Our home, being adjacent to a huge park had meant that never in all my childhood had their ever been a shortage of options when friends came over. Every holiday the enormous fairground set-up camp just a ten-minute walk from our rear fence, straight through the forest. Miniature train rides, large well-equipped playground, tennis courts, the Mansion House with its tea-rooms and lavish museum of middle-age weaponry. In Summer, firework.
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