‘Who are you?’ She spoke again with no trace of embarrassment in her manner nor any hint of anger in the voice. ‘Max Weinberg.’ ‘Ah, of cou...se. The American who has come to sell me a painting.’ At least he now knew that this was his hostess. ‘I arrived yesterday.’ ‘And now you spy on me.’ He held up his hands in a mixture of horror and apology. ‘I fell asleep in the shade…far too much wine at lunch…you cannot believe how embarrassed I am.’ ‘It is of no matter. How do you do Mister Weinberg?’ . 30 on a Saturday, her house had some guests and the girl that I used to had tuition with was living like 200 feet from her house. And that girl invited me and priya miss to her house and I had my bike and it was okay for me to stay late. We had to go to her house and it was dark as hell with no houses except priyas and sailaja(tuition girl) house. Priya stopped grabbing my hands and we just hugged so tightly. Then we started kissing hard all over each others face and in my mind I was like these. More

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