Indian Aunty Mona Bhabhi Celebrating Diwali

And I was about to get happier. I touched his name on the contact list of my phone and hoped he would pick up. He did. “Hey, babe, how is your day going?” I asked. “Surviving,” he said, sounding mentally exhausted, if not annoyed. “I will be so happy when it’s over.” “Awww …” I said, feigning sympathy. “I guess you’ll be too tired to pick me up from the airport at 8 o’clock.” There was a silence on the other end of the line, and then I heard, “You what … umm … are going to be where???” His voice was a mixture of excitement, panic and glee, followed by a bunch of questions about my flight information, if I had a place to stay, if I had a car, and how long I planned on being in town. “I’ll see if I can make this work,” he said. “How long do you have until you get on the plane?” “About an hour and a half,” I said. “I’m heading to the airport now, that is unless this isn’t going to work for you.” “I’ll make it work!” he said, with joy and excitement replaced by the initial panic in his. He began asking her questions that she was not answering. Who was she? Where did she live? Why was she in the car?My uncle got more frustrated and he starting cutting her clothes. Soon, her stained and ripped blouse concealed nothing and fell away to reveal a dirty-red silk bra. By the time her skirt was torn from her, she was showing a matching thong she was in tears. My uncle had not established who she was and could find no identification on her. She must be from a very rich family – few girls could afford silk.Eventually my Uncle did lose his temper and slapped her across the face. She fell to the floor and he pointed his gun at her, telling her to tell us who she was. She shook her head and then forced back the tears. My Uncle laughed when she said ?Princess Sophia? but when she repeated it and he stared at her, he began to realise. The King's eldest grand-daughter and about eighth in line to the throne was standing in front of us nearly naked. Turned out that the Army thought.
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