I’m just the housekeeper. One night, it was really late and I was cramming for an exam. I heard someone in the living room. Madam Nadia had already... locked the door and all of the lights were out. I eased my door open and peered around the corner. Sitting at the bar with a glass of water was Angela, a pretty young girl who had been at the house just a little while longer than I. She was whimpering to herself. When she noticed me, she turned away. I eased my way up to her. Normally I would’ve. Once we’d gotten to know each other about as well as platonic friends can, we started to discuss ourselves in a little more intimate detail. It was nothing more than exciting conversations really—a little fun between us as we shared experiences and fantasies, never in too much detail, but enough to make us feel like we were confiding in each other and allowing “friendship” to become a little closer. I guess my hopes of furthering my relationship with Molly were revived at that time, but. “No,” she said.“Is that why you don’t shave?” I asked, but without waiting I started to cleave away her under arm hair. “In some brothels they shave the girls bald so they can be blonde or brunet or dark at the change of a wig,” I advised.“Not my hair!” she protested.The under arm hair was falling freely now. I enjoyed this. I did her other arm pit and then to her horror I started on her pubes.“No stop I will tell you everything!” she blubbed.“No, you will lie and we will run round like. It was not his Path in Life to try to comfort her, because all that would accomplish would be to prolong her own self-deception. He loved her too much to tell her that her behavior was acceptable or that everything was going to be fine, when it wasn’t. Cecilia walked about 100 meters and stopped. She was totally horrified…how could that have happened? Jason…he was the only man she had ever loved…five years they had been together…and now…it was over…gone…just because she was pissed at him… She.