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Deepa’s mother Jaya, a widow in her late thirties usually left for work fairly early leaving Deepa and her brother Prashant (14) under my wife’s care.Deepa was 19, tall, lovely figure, conical large breasts, dusky complexion, straight hair, sharp nose, high cheekbones and pearly teeth. All day she moved about in a sleeveless gown that came just below her knees. She didn’t bother to wear a bra and her breasts jiggled about with every movement of hers. I often watched her on the sly and every time I saw her breasts jiggle my pulse raced. My wife had delivered our baby daughter just a few months back and I hadn’t had sex in long time; that added to the problem. Most nights I dreamt of Deepa and spent time holding my cock in my hand. I never masturbated I thought the day I get to fuck Deepa I will need all my juices intact.Deepa was a little weak in studies and sat with me late into the evening completing her assignments. We often sat in study cum bedroom where I used to teach her. At least, the marshal there was honest.The next day, I headed north toward Cheyenne and made the trip in eight days. My trip to Denver had been educational in many respects, but I sure liked it better in Cheyenne. I was welcomed by the management and ladies of The Cheyenne Social Club, and I was happy to be “home.” Not a one of these women smelled bad!I dropped in to see Marshal Brady to tell him that I was back in town and to ask what I might have missed in those two weeks that I was gone. It turned out that I had not missed anything of a professional interest, but the remaining two Fletcher boys were bragging about how they had run me out of town. The marshal warned me that those two idiots were bound to take a shot at me at the first opportunity. Their brother was deathly ill from buckshot wounds, and was not expected to live. The Fletchers were blaming that on me, but they had not said how I might have caused his problem.Okay, I had not forgotten the Fletchers, but I figured that.
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