Perhaps she still looked upon me as the brown, scrawny little boy of my early childhood. Or maybe it was because she had studied in an English medium ...��Convent’ school she felt superior to those like me who studied in vernacular schools. She affected a ‘Convent School’ accent and just barely hid her mirth at my attempts to speak English in my desi accent. The only reason I could even understand English at all was because of my father. He loved the language. He had a fairly large and eclectic. We already had lunch and she was feeding him in her room. I went to them. Mausaji was sitting in the drawing room doing some accounting stuff.Mausi won’t mind feeding her child in front of me as she knew she had nothing left to hide from me. As I went to her room, she gave a smile to me and inquired if I wanted something. I was too much horny and seeing her feeding her child with some sweat around her neck and some wet hairs, my dick was throbbing to come out.I slowly went near her and slept. More

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