Her boobs were prominently seen over the saree and that invited our attention. She had applied dark, red lipstick making her lips really inviting for ... deep hot kiss. She was wearing mangalsutra, a sign of marriage that was resting right on her bust and moving as she breathed.She had not tied her hair and they caressed her back and shoulders as she moved. She swayed her hips from side to side as she walked with her husband, holding his hand. She was looking at us and may be judging us as she. For the next few day I could not work, or think about anything else even fucking my wife could not remove Julia image from my mind. All I could think was fucking Julia. I did not hear from Julia until they came to the house on Saturday afternoon, her kids wanted to go the movie and my wife offered to take the all five teenagers, Julia come up to me and say hello but there was no sign of anything else. My wife and the kids go the car on drove to the movie. Julia and I stay in the drive way. "How was it?" she asked."Fucking awful," I said, trying to smile, "you think by now I would have learned." Fucking bastards," she sympathise, "here turn around, you've got grass on the back of your dress." Thanks," I said letting her brush me down, "don't you sometimes think about giving men up Shirl?" Don't be mad," she laughed, "what would a pair of slappers like us do without them." Well we could do a lot worse, now could we," I said."Yeah, but wouldn't you miss a nice hard one now and. She spoke with a London accent and was not shy at all. That said, she had a good figure and never, ever, wore a dress as she had few feminine traits. I liked her and saw no reason not to be in her circle of people she cadged-off. During a quieter moment in the pub's corner seat she asked me if I was a virgin. No doubt blushing I laughed-off the suggestion with the comment that I had lived among the fleshpots of Berlin blah, blah, blah! I doubt she believed me and the conversation went.
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