Later they started going to pubs and long drives to dhabas at the outskirts of the city.She told everything to her husband by the day’s end on Skype... Vishal was not the jealous type. He would listen intently, ask questions, encourage her and just talk sweet nothings. She loved him very much. He used to do little romantic things that would melt her heart. Like play songs to her on a guitar. Late in the night she would do a strip tease for him and ask him to show his cock. She forbid him to touch. His work was filled with intimations of some secret forbidden love buthe'd hidden it too well for anyone to identify with any certainty.Certainly, Marcia couldn't. She might speculate, could make an argumentwho--or what--Birdwell was talking about with such sublimated eroticpassion. It might have been a woman, inaccessible for one reason oranother, married, perhaps. But it just as well might have been a man. OrGod. Or a horse, or a fence-post, or, for that matter, a cantaloupe. Arevisionist. More

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