Our college lay in the quiet dales in the countryside, surrounded by farms, and one in particular, that had horses.The farmer and his wife, had a contract with the college, where they would provide lessons in extra curricular leisure in lieu for us girls to become part time stable girls, and attend to the horses needs, and they save on labor costs, and have as many as thirty rampant schoolgirls at their disposal.Jilly, the farmers wife of thirty something, was an Equestrian rated former champion, and it was she who had setup the deal with the school, but her motives were more based on her sexual needs, as she enjoyed being amongst pubescent girls, and made no bones in searching out girls with similar traits, as she had.She had married Bill, now in his late fifties, on an agreement she was allowed to be with others, male or female, Bill liked to watch, especially when young girls were involved.She had retired from show jumping and entered her marriage of convenience, where there was. “Who is it?” the old man asked. “It is me,” came the reply. “Raghu…” Panic and guilt suddenly filled my mother’s face. She got down from the cot and hurriedly picked up her petticoat from the floor. She put it on, constantly eying towards the door, as if she feared that it would burst open anytime. She picked up her sari and started winding it around her hips. I had no idea that a woman could put on a sari so quickly. All this time, the old man had not moved from his place. He now said, “Sunandini, you don’t need to panic.” “Sar, it is Raghu!” she whispered to him, as if she thought that he had failed to hear what the caller had spoken a moment ago. “Yes. I had asked Raghu to come.” She looked at him now, very much puzzled. “Go and open the door,” he told her calmly. She did not move and just stared at him. He slowly put on his mundu. My mother stood like a statue as he went up to the door to open it. Her mind was clearly in a whirlwind. And so was mine. She opened her mouth to.
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