Indian Aunty Selfie

The driver stepped out and opened the rear passenger door. A man in a tuxedo got out and offered his hand to a younger woman wearing a wedding gown. The man tipped the driver, who returned to the car and drove off.The couple went to the front door and the man opened it, then picked up his wife and carried her through the threshold. Still holding her in his arms, they kissed and nuzzled a moment, before setting her down. They walked up the stairs and into the bedroom. The man stepped back a bit. When I got home, Becky met me at the door with a big hug and a tonsil-cleaning kiss. It looked like she had been cooking for a while."Jamie will be here in about an hour," she said. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable? Can I get you a drink or a snack?" A drink would be nice. Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked."Oh no, sir. I want to do this myself. You just relax," she said."OK," I said. "Is there anything else I should know about tonight?" Not really, sir," Becky told me. "From. My collar! I can't help but gasp."You've missed this, haven't you?" More than I can say, Mistress," I respond. And she can hear the catch inmy voice. She can see the tremble in my flesh. And again, she knows."Don't. You. Dare."I try. I try so hard. But a single tear escapes."Mistress, I'm sorry..." I try to say. But she stops me. In hercompassion, she understands. She understands the ache in my heart atbeing parted for so long."No, sweet little Tabitha, it's okay. My precious little pet. On. Instead, he ends up a Navy puke.”“He is supposed to have a marked intelligence,” the man offered. Marlowe was young and easily excitable. A Marine since just after he turned fourteen, he was now closing in on seventeen. He’d not seen combat, however. Combat tended to drain the excitability – leaving the person more stoic or dead. “There are some interesting bits of equipment he designed in Aisle twenty-three.”“Really?” Marlowe said excitedly. “I’ll have to go back and check it out. I mean, he.
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