“My name’s Anastasia,” she said, though this time she wasn’t whispering. “Can you read my mind?” She smiled. It was a beautiful smile. “...ot every word, but close enough.” “How do you do it?” “All it takes is concentration and it really helps when I make eye contact with the person.” “Is that why you were staring so intently at me?” “Yes.” “Oh and here I thought it was because you found me so beautiful,” I said laughing. Anastasia didn’t laugh, she didn’t even smile. “It was a joke,” I told. Now I know why people used to stare at the hips of my mother. Father then moved his palms on the tip of her erected and elevated part of BUTT and slowly trying to knead the upper fleshy part of her marvelous back side After some times of intimacy my mother got separated and told father to defer the act till bedtime. Then she was trying to bring her saree in shape all through. But father was interested in the activity, so he continued to tease the breast of mother by following her. I saw mother. More

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