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Aur Tapu, mere jaane ke baad tum Babita se shaadi karna aur uska dhyaan rakhna.”Sab log suicide note padh kar hairaan the. Achaanak Babita ji ghaayal ho jati hai. Log unpar paani chhidakte hai, par unko hosh nahi aata. Tapu unko kiss bhi karta hai, par Babita Ji ko hosh nahi aata hai. Anjali kehti hai, “Tapu, chal Babita ko mere ghar le aa aur apna lund chuswa. Usko hosh aa jaayega.”Anjali aur Tapu, Babita ko ghar ke andar le aate hai. Pehle Anjali Tapu ka lund chus kar bada karti hai aur fir Tapu apna khada lund Babita ke muh main daalta hai. Dheere dheere Babita Ji ko hosh aata hai aur woh teeno baahar aa jaate hai.Inspector Cha. Lu. Pandey aate hai aur kehte hai, “Humara naam hai Cha Lu Pandey. Jhooth bologe toh padenge dande. Jehtalal, tumne phone kiya tha. Kya hua hai?”Jethalal kehta hai, “Cha Lu Ji, Pandey ji, Iyer bhai ne Aatma-hatya kar li hai.”“OMG. Koi suicide note mili hai?”“Ji, ye rahi.”“Jethalal, you are under arrest!”“Kyu?”“Kyunki tumne Iyer ko uski treasurer ki seat ke. Her dress clung to her tightly enough so that anyone that knew female anatomy could see it all at a glance.Michael was very happy to see her but was astonished that she raced by him and embraced the young thing he had been about to diddle. When she hugged Cornelia back and called her 'mother' he didn't know whether he should be happy that he didn't complete what he had tried or remain on course to finish what he had almost begun.With that statement Michael now saw the resemblance and recognized that 'it' must have been what had lured him from the time he saw her. When she had fallen for him in his dressing room he had thought that he could have a quick affair and then dump her when he left in a couple of months for the west coast. Now he wondered if her daughter was so passionate maybe her mother was too. Usually he seduced the mother before the daughter but he didn't care which of these two were first.Cornelia had heard reports about the play opening for a long time. It had been a.
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She looked exactly like her photos–chestnut brown hair done up in an elaborate French twist that accentuated the curve of her neck, eyes so dark that it was difficult to tell where the pupil ended and the deep brown irises began, slightly bronzed skin that set off her trademark pearls. She was dressed a bit more casually than on the magazine covers, just a white house dress with a long red sash, but that was the only difference. It was the kind of effortless beauty that was only attained with great effort. Joanne struggled not to feel frumpy by contrast. She knew that her black locks were cut in a thirty dollar bob and she wore a dress she’d designed three years ago, but she liked to believe that she wore it well. Still, standing across from an honest-to-god billionaire fashion magnate made it hard not to feel insignificant. She wondered if Cici had felt the same, and if Natalya had used that against her. ‘Hello, Joanne,’ Natalya said, striding into the room like it was a runway. ‘It.

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