My Papa woke up then. “No what?” He asked. He looked at us, the memory coming back to him. “Oh,” he said, a little embarrassed. He must have b...en a little drunk last night. “Uncle, I want to feel it too,” Hema said boldy. “I want you to do to me what you did to Naina!”Papa smiled. “But Hema, she is my baby. I do it to her because I love her, she is the copy of my wife.”“Please, Uncle, I am so curious. Please, only a short time. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” Papa seemed to think for a moment,. It is a pair of boots madeof the finest, softest calfskin bleached completely white with high,three-inch long heels!The sight of those boots makes your heart beat faster as you think of thepretty dressing maid of your mother's when you were a small child. She hadalways worn boots just like these, and you had always thought that she wasthe most feminine creature who had ever trod upon the earth.Now Margaret is sliding their thin leather up your silk clad calves, andit as if that maid of your. More

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