(This is a pure work of fiction.)
Simran, simmi or whatever your name, what is in the name. Shakespeare once wrote a rose is a rose even if we call it by other name instead of Rose. You came in our house a as a tanent. The rent was not big so the room. I looked at you, your big eyes, dark skin, had you not been so dark you could resemble as a film heroine. I smiled at you and you return my smile. Ladki hanshi toh samjho fanshee . One evening, just few fays later of your being at our home, I hold you from your waist, you resisted a little and then give up. I keep my lips on your neck, just a little higher of your breasts. Your breaths were becoming heavy and it was more passionate kiss. It was very difficult to know the woman and especially the one called simran. You started asking money, the money that your second husband was giving was not enough for you. You want to spend, spend on cosmetics, cloths, travels and everything money could buy. You were not that type of women who sells them to buy products. I see something original in you as a man looks in other woman. So you was the perfect other women.
During our small intimacies something unusual happened one day. .........................
