Devar Bhabhi - Bhabhi Ki Chooth
She passed 20 years ago. I’m still not really convinced that she bought into my marriage, at 25, to my wife Sarah. Whom she loved just as well. I arrived at McGill at age 18, at the end of August, 1978. An awkward kid and still every bit the math nerd that I’d always been. Socially awkward at a time when the “free love” generation was reaching its peak. Thanks to mom, I had a single room in Molson House, the most prestigious and expensive men’s dorm building on campus. It was an art-deco building from the 1920s, with 210 rooms on three floors, mostly populated by older students from money. McGill at the time had nearly 40,000 students, with about ten percent living on campus – most of the others, in the rooming houses and student apartments surrounding it’s downtown Montreal campus. It was a world of its own. Prestigious. Canada’s equivalent of Oxford, or Columbia in Manhattan. I was homesick and anxious for weeks, just trying to fit into the crush of student life. Although it was. The poor little thing ran out of breath and was starting to blubber in between the high pitched chirps which were all she could produce now. I ripped off the mask I was wearing and dropped to my knees in front of her. I gathered the scared little lamb (she really was dressed in a lamb costume, I assume her older sister was little Bo peep) into my arms and pulled her against me. I murmured in her ear as my hands softly rubbed up and down on her back. ‘SSHH little one. Its all right, no one is going to hurt you. No matter what you think, this is not hell. I know, because I’ve been there.’ *********************** I would love to say that the fun of the Halloween weekend and having sex with Robin changed everything, but in reality there was very little change at all. In fact, she started getting a little distant. I was still working Friday and Saturday nights, so I was unable to go to the games with her. She went with friends, and didn’t come into the shop all the time, she said that.
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