She lived alone and tonight, was glad. She threw some supper together from the leftovers in her fridge and sat down on the sofa, her plate on her knee...and Lady Chatterley’s Lover in her hand. Constance had decided to give the book a chance, to read it with an open mind, after all if Oliver loved it so much perhaps she would too. He had admitted at coffee how much he despised Charles Dickens, but had never had the courage to write poorly about his work. He told her that he applauded her courage. Jaise hee woh enter hoti hai woh Tapu ke morning wood (khade hue land) ko dekhti hai.Aur phir khayal aata yeh toh mera beta hai. Woh Tapu ke baju mein bethti hai aur Tapu ko cheeks par kiss karti hai jese ek maa apne bete ko karti hai.Daya: Mera raja dika chal jadli se taiyar ho jaa aur doodh pi le.Tapu: Haan mummy!!Tapu apni maa ko dekhta hai toh uske chehre pe pasina hota hai kyuki woh fingering karke ayi thi.Tapu: Maa kya hua aapko itna pasina kyo hua hai??Daya (thoda gabhra jati hai): Woh. More

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