She hesitated again for a moment and then said that she could offer herself to them.I couldnt say anything for a few seconds and then asked if she was... serious.She said of course she was,she reminded me that she had already agreed to being fucked by guys other than me ,now was the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.She said that she hoped that after all my badgering her to fuck other men I wasnt going to change my mind now the perfect opportunity was presenting itself and she. Books were in my hand but my mind was filled with what I did. And if she tells my mom and dad then I am totally screwed. My father would beat me a lot. I started thinking of the future possibilities of my hell life.At night, she called me in the hall. I saw her sitting on the sofa watching TV. I sat beside her and uttered, “Sorry, aunty”. Her eyes were filled with tears. She wasn’t looking at me. I kept saying sorry but she didn’t respond.After a while, she asked, “Why did you do that?”. “I. When she wanted to be a modern bluestocking –conversation about econometrics, baggy clothes, metal rimmed glasses with small circular lenses - she could be. But there was also something sensual about her. She had an attractive face without trying to be attractive, and a shape that most heterosexual men think feminine: curves full breasts and a bottom you imagine handling. She also had a great sense of humour and was happy to talk about anything and everything. Only the clothes sellers that run. The barstools were all taken so I found a small booth where I seated myself. When I looked at the menu, I found that it made me hungry. I knew I shouldn’t have the waffles but what the hell difference did a few pounds make at that point. I resisted the urge anyway. ‘Hey there,’ I said to the waitress before she could greet me. ‘You want coffee?’ She might have been more asleep than me. ‘Coffee would be fine,’ I replied. ‘You know what you want to eat?’ ‘Nothing thanks, just the coffee and some.