So one day she asked me whether I do masturbate thinking of girls. I dint lie. I openly told I do it often as it normal. But she wasn’t shocked with...my answer because she knew of my affairs and life before my marriage. Later she asked me a question which changed the whole scenario.The question was whom do I think of while masturbating. I kept silent and said it’s you always. My heart was beating. She bursted out with a laugh and asked why she. I said she was my dream girl. Now this kind of. We were sitting at her desk, and she was struggling with a difficult concept that I’d already tried to explain in a couple of different ways. In exasperation, she fell forward on her desk, arms folded with her head resting on her hands. Her blond hair fanned out to the side, and she looked back at me with an expression of misery on her elfin face. The arm hole of her singlet was gaping, and beneath her arm I could see straight inside. The two tiny, pale-blue cups of her bra were doing their. More

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