After all, it was nice.I was the perfect daughter, the perfect daughter and the perfect wife. And I liked it, I liked perfection in every aspect of my...life, but somehow, my sexual needs had started taking over my functioning. I’d find myself masturbating at noon, in the evening, and sometimes, at night, in the washroom, after I’ve had sex.A few years later, we had a child and had moved for good to Delhi, I happened realize that it wasn’t sex that I craved but fuck. I realized I wasn’t being. “But …” I whined. I knew my word choice would anger you, and yet somehow I couldn’t help it. It had been almost a week since our last moments together. I desired nothing more than to be at home … sitting at your feet. Not there. Not in the midst of strangers. And not wearing a flimsy piece of cloth someone grossly mistook for clothing. You glared at my misstep. Warning one. “I will forgive you this once. Not again. Understood?” “Yes, Sir.” I lowered my head, wanting to disappear through the. More

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