She started to study him a little more, noticing how his shirt pulled tight against his chest. Still pretty fit for his age, hmmm… She remembered the whiff of his cologne she caught after he pulled her chair out. She felt a bit of a stir between her legs.The waiter returned with a fresh bottle and poured each of them a glass as they continued their dinners. He told her about his job in cybersecurity at the embassy and how he had moved into that field after working as a detective in Toronto for ten years. He regaled her with some funny stories, and the wine pulled back her reserved demeanor enough that she was giggling at anything remotely funny. At one point during a particular story about a stakeout outside the CN Tower, he reached across and put his hand on hers, “Hand to God Viv, there I am, mid-sip of some lukewarm coffee and out pops the prime minister with fucking coke underneath his nose.”The evening came to a screeching stop. They both looked at their hands and then up at. I did not say a word. She was just stroking it up and down slowly. In the mean time, mom came back from the temple and neha ran in. I opened the door for mom and all was normal.The next day mom went to the temple again. (she goes to a temnple as and when she had time. I was on leave for a week since my family was here.). I had bath and was sitting at the sofa wearing a jeans. Neha came and sat on my lap. She started to remove the button and the zip of my jeans.Me: hey cutie pie, what are you doing. Neha: bhaiyya, i did not explore your ‘thing’ properly yesterdya, and hence i am finishing off the work today.Me: ok neha, do not create trouble again. This is the last time you will see my cock.Neha: what do you call it. Me: darling, it is called as a penis in biology. You can call it as cock.Neha: no bhaiyya, i will call it as neha’s flute.Me: ok call it whatever you want to, but make things fast or else mom will come back and we both will get a good beating.This time i carried her to.
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