Women may not enjoy being bossed around, but on a subconscious level, almost all heterosexual women crave the safe feeling a man gives her when he sho...ws he could protect her from the lions and tigers and bears and fight off the wolf pack at the cave entrance. She doesn’t want the man throwing it up to her constantly or beating her over the head with it, she just likes the little warm ball of security in the back of her mind that tells her the man she has chosen COULD protect her if he ever had. Though he was a good husband, he lacked interest in sex and her. Though she tried to encourage him for sex, her efforts were in wain.That’s why Namitha approached me. She was too depressed and was lonely in terms of sexual partner and was always waiting for the right person who could caress her sexual dreams and filled her sexual appetite.As her husband had a lacuna in sex and had no interest at all. So she decided to cross all the traditional orthodox borders to satisfy her inner burning. The doctor's words echoed through his mind. "Terminal illness," he had called it. A death sentence.James muttered faint whispers over and over, the words obscured by the sound of his heavy breathing. It took him a while before he could actually speak aloud the phrase that had been so forcefully taking over his mind since he had heard his prognosis."Death shall not take me," he muttered. "Death shall never take me."He had watched others taken by Death. He had watched as his sister's glowing face. She shifted to her knees for leverage, then hefted, her muscles rippling underneath the delicate fabric of her blouse as she yanked hard. She pulled him up and, impossibly, all the way to where he could put his feet onto terra firma. The two fell together; James landed, not very gently, into her ample bosom.“Are you hurt?” Anne asked with wheezing breath.He lay there gasping, but also enjoying the sensation of being sandwiched between two large breasts.She realized what he was doing and shoved.