I still had not told her my name. My brain was still acting like a primal ape trying to learn how to beat away the lion with a stick. “A-Ad-Adam,”...I finally managed to stutter as I lowered my head, trying to hide my embarrassment. My ears felt like they were on fire. I had no idea what shade of red my face was, but it felt like hell red as if I had stuck my head in an oven, trying to baste it like a Thanksgiving turkey. It wasn't until I felt a slight tug that I realized I was still holding her. But till then, both of us explored only each other and nothing else. It was 3 years into marriage now when this happened. We had tried almost everything within us.One day we were discussing my fantasies. My husband asked if I had any kinky fantasy of fucking someone outside. Especially those of taboo types. I didn’t think anything like that, so I denied it. But one day, while we were a bit drunk and free, I admitted that I had a fantasy to fuck a Muslim man.When I was asked why I didn’t have. More

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