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Shirt off!”Turner nervously began to undo the buttons of his shirt, his hairy muscular chest was gradually revealed and he slipped off his shirt and placed it on the desk in front of him. Mr. Murray walked round from behind the desk to face Turner. “Right then, arms up!”Turner raised his arms. He felt vulnerable just wearing tight white briefs and his trousers still around his ankles. With his arms raised, Mr. Murray bent forward and pushed his nose into Turner’s hairy arm pit. Mr. Murray inhaled deeply and Turner wondered if he could feel Mr. Murray’s lips but he doubted it. “No deodorant there, Turner, you stink!” yelled Mr. Murray, as he pulled back. Mr. Murray was now incandescent with rage. “When I ask you boys to do something, I expect it to be done. I ask for cleanliness, and you ignore me. I will not have boys leaving my lessons and going to other lessons stinking; it reflects on me”. There was a pause. Turner wondered what would happen next. “Right, Turner, did you put on a. Now am Back with New and recent one whichhappen with one of my friend. For new readers, I’m Manmadhan from Chennai,working in Top MNC company in Chennai, Good looking and jovial guy.I’m coming to incident which happened, I am having a FB in name of Manmadhanalive, I’m keeping in touch with my friends and my fans via that, recently Igot a girl (Swetha name changed) as friend and we started chatting in Midnight.We started explore each other; she said tht she was read all my stories and sheintersted to meet me. My good luck she also lives in Chennai and studying inone of the College near Gemini fly over.We shared our mobile number and started voice and videocalls. One day she invited me to her house because her parents were not in Townfor a day. She lives near T.nagar and she messaged me her address. I reached herhouse in 45 minutes after her call. I parked my bike in one of the shop andwalked through the road. That’s a separate house; she waited near the door forme. I reached the house.
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Shouldn’t be too difficult.’ ‘Good luck,’ I said. I wasn’t really surprised when Eloise phoned to invite me for supper. ‘Say seven o’clock?’ ‘Yeah, fine,’ I said. ‘Can I bring anything?’ ‘Just you.’ ‘What colour wine.’ ‘Up to you,’ she said. ‘I’m thinking that I might do something with duck. But, as I say, up to you.’ Duck? I immediately thought pinot noir. Full of flavour, but not too heavy. I was pretty sure that I still had a couple of bottles of gold medal-winning New Zealand pinot noir in my mini ‘cellar’ under the stairs. Yes, one of those should do nicely. More by luck that judgement, I arrived at Eloise’s Shepherd’s Bush flat pretty much on the stroke of seven. ‘Gosh, is it that time already?’ she said. ‘I was going to have everything ready for when you arrived but, as usual, I’m a bit behind.’ ‘That’s OK,’ I said. ‘I could just hang out here in the street for half an hour or so.’ Eloise laughed. I liked that about her. Eloise laughed a lot. ‘You’ll just have to come into the.

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