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"And how did it go at school today?" I enquired as I handed Sarla my briefcase at the door. Sarla, my tall and slender wife, looked spectacular in green knee length kurta and tight white churidar over her round legs and the large leather wallet that hung around her waist through a long leather strap passing over her left shoulder. I was immediately captivated by her looks Her wavy black long hair were open and fell at her back well up to her broader hips. "No problems! " looking around a bit she kissed me sweetly on the lips on my demand, giving me a taste of lipstick and relieved me of my load. " I shared my tiffin with Rekha." In early thirties I was sensibly skinny, flexible, would eat everything and never went above 65 kg. Sarla had always been an ideal wife; besides responsibilities for our four years kid, she was history teacher in a nearby school. More than that she was a caring woman and a great lover. I too was also her most attentive lover, and was obviously charmed with her body. I loved her slim waist and firm breasts and never failing to compliment her possessions. We didn't have problem for the kid as she had kept him in the same school. In the past six years, especially in nights I had never once regretted marrying her. We have had our quarrel of course, who hasn't, but have always held our combined well being to be more important than our individual happiness. For most of our six-year's married life Sarla had treated sex with a reservation until last year when we began discussing our fantasies. We often discussed them rationally and seeing she was often becoming very aggressive in bed, I even lightly suggested her to find how sex would be with another man. She would just slap her long tender ...

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