”“No,” came his emphatic reply. “Because once something’s been said, it can’t be unsaid. It can never be forgotten, and the damage can’t...be undone.”I knew what he was hinting at. But hints and half-truths were no good to me. “Jason, please don’t speak in riddles. It’s me, Claire.”His expression softened, and he reached out to hold my hand, in a gesture that mixed apology and need.“I’m sorry, it’s just I’m afraid,” he replied in a nervous voice.I wasn’t used to the idea of my intimidatingly. This was blamedon aunt by her inlaws. So she used to be upset sometimes when she getsto talk with her inlaws on phone, who were in Bangalore. Day by day Iwas getting more and more horny when I saw my aunt in kitchen wearingsaree and cooking lunch for us.One day it so happened that, in summer, I was feeling too hot and henceaunt prepared cold badam milk for me. I was looking at her cleavage andbecoming horny. She had left her cleavage open for ventilation, as itwas too hot. I now planned an idea. More

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