Sardar Ne Ki Chudai

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As the night progressed they started to enjoy ordering me around and commenting on my various body parts. I work out regularly and I'm in pretty good shape, so my wife obviously enjoyed showing me off. As my wife had commanded, I was wearing tight jeans and a tight T-shirt, there was not much to hide. As I was bending down to pick up some empty glasses from the table one of her friends started squeezing my butt and commenting on its firmness. Now I had to go from girl to girl, each of them squeezing and touching my butt. The consensus was, definitely nice and definitely better than the beefy guys on the posters on the walls. One of her friends commented that if they had Playgirl Magazines to look at instead of Playboy they could actually compare me to the models in the magazine. My wife, already slightly drunk, told them that I actually had a subscription to Playgirl magazine and that she often caught me reading the new arrivals while touching myself. The girls gasped in disbelief. I. Whatever!!! But rotten he definitely was. He was the rottenest, stinkiest, steamiest, steamy, steampunk in the whole history of steamy steampunkdom. Imagine taking all the hamsters in the world and putting them in a giant cage and never cleaning them out for like a month until they were just yucky sawdust and hamster stink and poop; that's how steamy he was. But we had to wait for the bus so he yacked and blathered and I stood and wiggled and concentrated on being the absolute yummiest perky, pokie, wiggly, teen-angel of seductiveness ever and by the time the bus arrived we were all new and excitable 'best friends forever' forever.When we got on the bus, we had to go and sit on the back seat because that's where rebels-without-a-clue sit. And as the bus did its stop/start, stop/start, stop/start journey, my twin mounds of Australian sandstone went whackety-whack up and down on the barely upholstered seat, and my bounteous jigglies of lusciousness were twerking on my chest like Miley.
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I looked at the house next door. There were a a lot of construction workers milling around. As Purva hugged Apu and picked him up, she whispered to me,"Green shirt. By the pile of bricks. Sajid."And I saw him. He was not much to look at. He had gray hair. And was not very tall. I would normally not even have noticed him if he passed me on the street. But he was there. And he was looking in our direction. Our eyes met for a brief second and then I looked away.The next day, when I was leaving for work, Purva told me to call home at 1 pm. She said she needed that call as an interruption of sorts to help her evaluate the situation. It would stop her from getting carried away, she reasoned.So at 1 pm, I dialed my home number."Hello." Purva answered it."This is your 1 pm call." I said, laughing."Yeah, well, in a way it's too late." In what way?" It's just that today was Sajid and Rasul's day off." Oh, so they didn't come over?" Of course they did. They came over right after Apu's bus left..

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