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I know it may not last, but I'm happy now, and I'm willing to take it while I can."As dinner progressed, Bob got around to his plans which were actually a lot more far reaching than I'd expected."Our production side doesn't make a whole lot of money. It's your division, Design and Development, that makes the cash, as you well know. The last item you developed is making us more in a week than production makes in a year." So what are you saying, Bob? Do you want to close the production side?" Oh no, we still make money on it, but I'm saying that expansion of manufacturing doesn't make a lot of sense. Investing in Design and Development does. What would you say is the biggest growth area?" Digital signal processing, without a doubt." And you've been working on designing chips for that purpose." Yes, we're very close to a marketable floor plan." What I want is for you to expand that division and especially in the development of DSP chips. I want you to run that side of the business and. ”She looked at me and said, “Stop flirting with your bhabhi, you sick boy” and giggled. Suddenly my bhabhi farted; there was a slight burst of air type of sound like pusssssss and the smell lingered in the room. We both came to know of it and I looked at her accusingly. She was very embarrassed and blushing. I said, “Now who is sick, chee, bhabhi, not in front of your devar.”Her face had become pink with embarrassment. In fact the smell was not offensive, just normal, funky and funny but I was getting a sexual kick out of it and seeing her embarrassed beautiful gorgeous face, I felt like teasing her more. In reality I wanted to smooch her. She told me, “Sorry about it. Everyone does it once in a while. Even that bitch Neha farts; okay. Don’t tease me like that. I don’t like it. I didn’t ask you to sit and smell my fart. So many times you have done it, have I made fun of it?”She was feeling angry, insulted and a little sad, I comforted her and told her, “I was just kidding bhabhi, I.
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He made me breakfast, and we went shopping for the last of my Christmas gifts for my girls. Later, wrapping them in my sister’s bedroom with Robert on the floor next to me, one knee bent with his arm hung over it, and my sister and her housemate also in the midst of bright paper and ribbons, I complained mildly that I was tired, not having gotten much sleep the previous night. ‘Don’t brag!’ the housemate chided, and I had to laugh, because she had pegged me. We spent an evening playing games with my sister and some of her friends. When her friends were leaving, Robert sat down on the couch with me and confided that all the stroking of his hair I had done during the games had warmed his body, to the point that he was ‘tumescent’. I liked that word. I liked all it implied. I liked that he found me exciting and arousing, that he wanted me to come to his bed again. So we made the journey to his apartment along the dark, cold streets, preserving our own private warmth in the two-headed.

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