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Wednesday, October 26, 2022

A FOOT CRANK’S CONFESSION - Part 18 of 37

 




CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:

It was not as same as Carman Electra in the movie “The Chosen One; The Legend of the Raven”, which was released years later. But Aunt Hillary fed me milk off her Right foot in her own way.

She was dipping her foot in the tray of milk and raising it to my mouth; arching her foot and allowing the milk to drift along her toes in to my mouth. I very greedily lapped and licked milk off her foot. I felt the milk had of a special unique flavor once it came off Aunt Hillary’s foot. Once I finished giving Aunt Hillary’s feet the milk bath, I collected the remaining milk in the tray into a glass and savored it later that night. Just sipping that milk gave me a hard-on.

Once I finished rinsing Aunt Hillary’s feet in milk for some time I washed her feet well. I had to wash myself a bit as well as my face and chest was also wet with milk. Next I asked Aunt Hillary to sit back and close her eyes, and placed two slicers of cucumber over her eye lids. I replaced the milk in the tray with warm water and placed her feet in it. I added a few drops of foot-salt and lavender essence to the water and socked her feet stirring the water with my fingers.

Aunt Hillary was so relaxed and enjoying herself. I took the opportunity do a pencil sketch of her feet. Free-hand sketching was a hobby of mine since schooling days that I always carried a small sketch book and pencil with me. Drawing female faces and women in various imaginary postures was my favorite. Drawing something live was a new experience for me. Aunt Hillary was in the meantime telling me about the various mishaps happened to her in spas and massage centers she has visited during her trips abroad. They were all hilarious accidents.

After about ten minutes I dried Aunt Hillary’s feet one by one and placed them on the foot-stool. I had placed a cushion over the stool to make her feel comfortable. I wrapped a terry cloth face towel around he Left foot to keep it warm and took her Right foot in my hands. I first gently applied some moisturizing lotion on her foot and massaged it into her skin from her shin downwards.

I cupped my Left hand under her heel and held her foot with my Right hand. Then I gently rotated her foot, moved it up & down and sideways giving it bit of exercise to her ankle joint. Next I concentrated on her toes, taking one by one and rotating them gently. Once the workout of moveable joints were over I gently squeezed her entire foot using both my hands.

 I started with her toes I ran my fingers along her metatarsus bones up to the ankle and back towards the toes but with less pressure applied. I circled around her ankle with my fingers and ran my fingers up along her shin and calf, especially along the crease of her calf muscle up to the knee.

Only once her lower leg and foot was well warmed-up I began massaging her foot sole. I held her foot with both my hands first; pressing my thumbs on to the balls of her toes. Then I crisscrossed my thumbs hard across her foot sole, working down from the balls of her toes towards her heel. Special attention was given to the balls of toes and the arch; where I drew semi-circles over them. I used my knuckles hard along the curvy foot arch. Soft ripples formed along it when I rubbed it.

I gave her each toe a special rub running my Right thumb up and down them and then placing my index finger over the toe and gently massaging every toe. Aunt Hillary moaned with pleasure when I inserted my fingers in-between the gaps of her toes and gave those in between spaces a rub. Once I finished with her Right foot, I wrapped it with the terry-cloth towel and repeated the same steps on her Left foot. Aunt Hillary had fallen into a peaceful sleep once I had finished massaging both her feet.

I took a break allowing her to sleep a bit and tidied the place a bit. Then I freshened myself a bit and drank the glass of ‘foot-flavored’ milk. I sat on the bed and completed my sketch until Aunt Hillary woke-up.

“Ah! Darling, Sorry I fell asleep. You treated me to heaven” she said moving on from the easy chair to the bed, and sitting next to me. We hugged each other and started to kiss each other.  Soon my penis became rock-hard inside my shorts.

“How do you like me to calm him down? Through a foot job or hand job?” she asked seductively, grabbing my erect penis from over the shorts I wore.

“Hm? Better a hand job I think?” I replied not wanting to get her feet messy so soon after I had treated it to such a treat.

“Okay then lay here” she pulled me on to a side and made me lay on the bed. Then she knelt on the bed and pulled my shorts down. I raised my hips first, and then my legs in assisting her to get rid of my shorts. Then Aunt Hillary jumped on to my Right side while I lay on my back. She lay beside me in the opposite direction. She supported her torso on her Right elbow and lay sideways, grabbing my penis with her Left hand. She made herself comfortable by putting her Left leg over my chest. It was bent at the knee and her toes were touching my chin.

She started stroking my penis gently. I couldn’t resist grabbing her left foot with both my hands and kissing it. I licked her foot sole and sucked her toes. Aunt Hillary became impatient and started to moan in pleasure. I pulled my Right hand placed it on her buttocks. I started to squeeze them gently. She pressed her lower body against mine. Her Monas Pubis was glued on the Right side of my upper chest. She started to jerk her hips while stroking me. Her panty covered pussy was rubbing on my chest just next to my Right nipple.

Soon she couldn’t take it anymore she lifted herself, and sat over my chest kneeling on either side of me. She was still jerking my member with her hands and lubricating it with her saliva from time to time. Her feet were now on either side on my face, touching my cheeks.  I turned my face sideways and kissed her feet. She playfully slapped my face with her feet demanding attention.

In the meantime Aunt Hillary got rid of her chemise, and placed her naked breasts on my belly while placing her knees on either side of my head.  She started to rub her boobs on me, while holding on to my balls and penis with both her hands. She proceeded to drag her boobs, brushing them from my chest up to my groin, supporting herself on her knees and elbows; as if swimming on my body in the ‘Breast-Stroke’ style.

Once she reached forward she smothered my crotch with her breasts and played with my penis using her boobs. When she pulled herself back her bottom was in the air just inches over my face. Though her wet panty never touched my face, I clearly felt the sweet musky smell that it emitted. I tried to hug to her bottom and pull her panty covered pussy to my mouth; but she teasingly always pulled herself away. So I had to be contended with merely kissing and licking her inner thighs.

I couldn’t take it anymore when Aunt Hillary started to circle the tip of my cock with the tip of her tongue while stroking my shaft. Screamingly, I lifted my hips off the bed and ejaculated my load while my whole body was vibrating. Aunt Hillary quickly cupped her breasts and sandwiched my penis in between them. Strings of cum coated over her boobs.

Aunt Hillary dragged herself forward placing her face on my thighs and supporting her knees on the bed either side of my head. She hugged on to my lower legs and pressed her Mons pubis on my chest. Then she slowly and rhythmically started to move her hip up and down as if fucking an imaginary cock that protruded off my chest.

She from time to time inserted her Left hand’s fingers in to her nicker and played with her pussy lips. She even scooped some cum off her breasts and moisturized her pussy lips with them once. Aunt Hillary was moaning and purring while trusting her pussy on my chest. I grabbed her but-cheeks with my fingers and squeezed them hard. She loved it. I was not bold enough to put my fingers in her pussy.   She did it herself and made sure I got a close view of it.

We had an agreement that we should never have sexual intercourse during our dates. Aunt Hillary made me promise it after our first night together; to never do it how much we get carried-away by the proceedings. She told me that touching and kissing was okay but we should strictly limit ourselves to “Foot-jobs, Hand-jobs and oral only” policy at all times. I agreed and had no regrets about it. I was happening to get turned on by her pussy and boobs alright; but just having her feet to fuck was more than enough for me. So I didn’t want to meddle with her pussy very much at that time.

After a few minutes her thrusting became intense and her pussy was dripping through her pantry. Aunt Hillary patted her pussy and released all her love juices on my chest with a groan.

Aunt Hillary took a deep breath and fell sideways on the bed. She raised her legs up and got rid of her soaked panty in a swift move. She threw it on the bed and cuddled up herself back to me with her head on my thighs and Left limbs across my body. Her Left leg was folder at her knee and the foot sole was on my face. I took her left foot in my Left hand and started to kiss and lick her foot sole. I placed my Right hand on her buttocks and gently stroked her butt-cheeks, anus, perineum and even her pussy lips that were still wet.

I had fallen asleep with my lips and nose glued on to Aunt Hillary’s soft and smooth Left foot sole. We both slept naked cuddled to each other’s bodies like two babies. It was almost dawn when I woke-up and that was when Aunt Hillary gently pulled her foot off my face.

“Sh..!” she gestured me to go back to sleep. “I better sneak back to the house before the milkman comes around. You sleep a bit more darling. It was really wonderful last night. Thank you!” she whispered to me kissing my cheeks and lips. She then collected her chemise in hand while covering her nakedness with the house-coat and ran through the verandah like a naughty little girl.

It all was as if a dream for me. It took a while for me to come to my proper senses and be fully awake. It was Friday and I was supposed to be going home for the weekend. I realized I wouldn’t be seen Aunt Hillary till Monday, as I was planning to come straight to the institute, by the early morning train from Kandy. I felt sad that I’m going to miss her for a few days.

I couldn’t sleep anymore so I decided to get-up and pack my bag. I was planning to leave home directly after class and had reserved a seat in the evening Kandy intercity train. Father had promised to send the driver to pick me up from the Peradeniya Railway station.

While I was arranging the bed I found Aunt Hillary’s panty in the corner of the bed, stuck between the bed and wall. She had forgotten to grab it on her way back. The panty was still wet with her juices. I couldn’t resist sniffing it. It still had that sweet musky aroma that I felt from Aunt Hillary’s cunt. I had an immediate hard-on but felt too tired to masturbate. So I placed the panty inside a polythene bag to preserve its fragrance and tucked it at the bottom of my bag.

Mother called Aunt Hillary after I came home but I didn’t get the chance to speak to her. Mother asked me to remind her to call Aunt Hillary the next evening to let her know whether we were coming to Colombo on Sunday or not. Father had been invited for a meeting at the Tea development board on Sunday, but the meeting had not being yet confirmed by the Minister; she explained.  If the meeting was on we were all to go to Colombo on Sunday. Mom was eager to spend some time with Aunt Hillary. Anyway, Aunt Hillary had wanted mom to confirm our visit, saying she had been invited by her cousin to attend some business meetings and see whether she could avoid it if our visit is definite.

 At about six in on the next evening I reminded mother to call Aunty and said that I too need to speak to Aunty. Even then our visiting Colombo on the next day was not hundred percent confirm. Yet, mother called aunty and gave me the phone after they had a bit of chat.

“Hi, Aunty!” I said.

“Hi darling! How are you doing? Enjoying the book I gave you” she asked.

“Ur, Yes Aunty. I did study till late last night. In fact I have almost completed half of my course work by now” I mumbled an answer as mother was still in the dining room closer to where the phone was. Then when mother returned to the kitchen I continued.

“I have read almost halfway now. Xaviera has by now become the leading Madam in New York. The book is marvelous aunty. I started to read it in the train last evening and couldn’t stop reading it even before going to bed even thought I was pretty tired last night” I said giggling. ‘The Happy Hooker’ book had some three hundred and twenty pages and I by then I had read almost two hundred pages. I never took the book out until my parents went to sleep, and read till late in the previous night. I also told her about her panty I brought with me and that how it turns me on every time I sniff it.

“You little brat!” she giggled. “I could supply you plenty of my soiled undies only if you promise to wash and return them back to me. I’m so tired of washing them” she said laughing. I agreed knowing she was making a joke.

“Certainly, with pleasure!” I said with a laugh. “So, what are your plans for tomorrow Aunty? Will you be at home if we plan to come there tomorrow?” I asked. 

“Oh! That’s what I was just telling your mother. How unfortunate? My cousin David called me yesterday and said that we have to go to Singapore for a couple of days for some business meetings.  You know how much I hate those things. But, David insists that I should come with him as I’m one of the leading shareholders of the company. So I agreed. He has booked the tickets for me and will be coming to pick me in another couple of hours. The Flight is past mid-night, at 1.10 am tonight. We plan to leave home at around at about Nine from here after having some dinner. So? I’m so sorry I won’t be here if you happen come. Anyway, I’ll leave the front door key on your table. Open up the house and make you mom comfortable if you come. Ask Madhu not to bother to cook lunch early morning. There is enough stuff in the fridge. You know where things are in my pantry? So help her and prepare some lunch once you get here. I’m so sorry that I’m going to miss you guys” Aunt Hillary genuinely sounded sorry.

“Ah! How sad it is to hear. But it’s good for you Aunty. Enjoy your visit and have a safe journey. The only thing is I’ll be missing you for a few days. When is your return planned for Aunty?” I asked.

“It’s on Wednesday. David of cause plans to stay the whole week there. I told him I need to come as early as possible. David said he would arrange a vehicle to pick me up from the Airport on Wednesday. I was wondering whether you might be able to pick me up? The flight is scheduled to arrive around Seven thirty in the evening” she asked me.

“Sure Aunty. Absolutely Yes!  Just call and let me know the day before you leave. Who knows whether you’ll be required to say longer?” I said jokingly

“I wish I could have stayed longer if I had a travel companion such as you. David is pretty boring to travel with. All he is interested is in business” she said with a chuckle. “Anyway, I’ll call you and confirm before I leave” she said.

“Okay aunty, and then have a happy journey. Enjoy yourself” I told her.

“You are such a darling. Thank you Tom!” she said before we hung up.

Finally, dad’s meeting was confirmed and we came to Wattala on that Sunday around nine in the morning. Dad’s meeting was at ten thirty in Colombo. Even though Aunt Hillary was not going to be at home, my mother also came because she knew that I was going to be all alone in the house during day and also because we decided that Aunt Hillary’s suggestion of cooking lunch at Wattala was a good one.

Mother had prepared a few jars of pickles and stuff that both I Aunt Hillary could keep and use. Father dropped us and left even without coming into the house saying he preferred to be at the Ministry a bit early.

I open door of my room and entered in first with my bag. I was shocked of what I saw. On my pillow was a Red lace panty of Aunt Hillary with a note that read; “Thank you for your lovely attentions darling. Hope you would like to have a fresh one till I return”.

My mother was following right behind me in to the room. I had no time to grab and hide the panty. So I just dropped my bag over it and covered it and later tucked it inside the pillow. In the meantime mother had gone up to my table and was reading another note left by Aunt Hillary. Luckily it was a harmful one; with some instructions such as to check the refrigerator, start the car engine and keep it running for a minute every morning, to watch TV and to use the phone to call home whenever I want etc. She had left the key to the main door along with it.

 

A FOOT CRANK’S CONFESSION - Part 17 of 37


 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:

Aunt Hillary kept on stroking my penis until my very last drop of semen was drained out and my penis became supple. It stubbornly tried to stay erect in the soft hand of aunty and it felt painful. Once she had finished there was a puddle of cum on my belly. Aunt Hillary playfully drew circles with her index finger over it and then placed her finger in her mouth, sucking my cum off it. She gave me a seductive smile with a wink when I opened my eyes to look what she was doing.

Aunt Hillary grabbed a face towel that was placed on the foot-board of the bed and wiped my penis and the puddle of cum off my belly. She also wiped her hand on it and threw it towards the laundry basket in the corner of the room.

“Let’s get some sleep now” she said pulling up the coverlet over our naked bodies, while lying next to me. She knocked-off the bed-head lights, tucked her head on my shoulder and hugged me throwing her arm and leg across me. I was feeling as if my body was burning from inside. But Aunt Hillary’s warmth felt really soothing. I hugged her back and closed my eyes.

I was awakened by an alarm going off right next to my ear. I woke up from a very deep sleep. It was such a deep sleep that did not even see any dreams. Then I remembered about the things that happen last night as if in a dream. I looked around to see whether it was actually dream. I realized it was not because I was still on Aunt Hillary’s bed and that my penis was hurting yet.

Aunt Hillary had left my towel and a batik sarong on the bed but she was not to be seen in the room. I headed towards the bathroom with the towel. She was not there either. I had a shower, dried myself and changed into the sarong.

I came to the pantry looking for Aunt Hillary. There were some bananas and a jug of milk on the family dining table in the pantry. All the dishes and leftovers from last night had been cleaned and everything had been put back to normal in the dining room. It was evident Aunt Hillary would have woken much earlier before me. There were two doors from the main dining room leading to the adjacent court-yard with the pool. One of those doors was partly opened. I peeped through it and was stunned of what I saw.

Aunt Hillary was there seated on the floor facing the pool. She was seated cross-legged, with her arms stretched out. Her wrists were resting on her folded knees and her fingers stretched towards the floor. This posture is known as the “Padmasana” or Lotus posture in Yoga. Aunt Hillary was wearing a pair of black yoga pants and a wrap-style sports top. Her hair was let loose on her back and her eyes were closed with a blissful smile on her face.

The early morning rays of sun were creeping through the pergolas above the pool in to the courtyard. The rays of sun were getting reflected of the water in the pool and dangling on the courtyard walls. Aunt Hillary’s face was lightening up by those bluish waves of light. She looked so divine and serene in that setup; just like a goddess. I didn’t want to disturb her. So I came back and waited in the pantry seated at the table.

In a few minutes I heard her footsteps coming towards the pantry. She was wearing a pair of flip-flops.

“Hi, Handsome! Good Morning! Slept well?” she asked cheerfully.

“Good Morning Aunty Gorgeous! I would have been happily still sleeping if not for that alarm under my pillow” I mumbled.

“Ah! I think someone has to go for lecture today. I left the alarm just because of that” she said giving me a playful side-long glance.

“I’m too tired today Aunty. I think it’s better if I slept a little more and rested with you. Don’t you think so? My sweet-sweet Aunty!” I asked jokingly.

“No way Mister! Eat a banana and drink this glass of milk. Bananas with milk would quickly give you back the energy lost in love making; as told in ancient texts. So you can go get ready and go for your classes as fresh as ever. Understood?” Aunt Hillary commanded waving her index finger at me, yet with a concealed smile on her face.

Then she reached up to the pantry cupboard and took out a small glass-jar.

“This jar contains Dates immersed in Bee’s honey. I prepared this too according to an ancient recipe which was given to me by an Indian friend of mine a very-very long time ago. The seeds of the dates have been removed and filled with Ghee before they were put in this jar of Bee’s honey. It had been prescribed in one of the ancient text that one should eat a Date along with the coated Bee’s honey every day after having sex. It is said to give back the energy lost during sex and especially compensate the body against sexual ejaculations; that is basically the discharge of sex fluids. Take this and eat one. Keep the jar in your room. You’ll need it in future too I suppose” Aunt Hillary ended in a rather playful tone.

“Gee! Thanks aunty. So you used to eat these when Uncle Bill was around? Wow! This stuff must be pretty old then?” I said suspecting the Dates in jar could be expired beyond consumption.

“Huh!” She said sarcastically. “It is true that these Dates worked well on Bill and me. We were sure that this was what gave us the strength for us to carry-on things the way we went on; having multiple organisms’ day after day even years after Harry was born. But don’t misunderstand that these Dates might have been prepared way back at a time Bill was still alive. No! I have been having a rather active sex life even after the loss of my husband, okay? Not that I had any boyfriends as I said before but I’ve also told you that I have a drawer full of sex toys, haven’t I? I have had my climaxes and discharged my burning urges. Now! You’re very well aware about a practice called ‘masturbation’ aren’t you? That same applies to women too. Women too can masturbate and ejaculate like you boys do young man!” Aunt Hillary said in a very matter-of-fact tone and gave me a sarcastic smile. Then she came to her normal tone again;

“For your information, I made those Dates just a month ago. You may remember my friend who visited here from Bahrain last month; Benazir. She presented me a box of fresh Dates. I prepared several such jars out of them. That’s why I told you that you could keep that jar with you. I have here enough for me” she said.

“By the way, that’s one of Uncle Bills sarongs you are wearing. And you look very handsome in it, honestly! You may keep that sarong as a souvenir of our first date. I put your Kurta in the laundry basket. I give it to you later” she came over to me and lovingly stroked my head. I rested my forehead on her belly and enjoyed her stroking.

“Aunty, you told me that you and Harry have almost no secrets and that you’re very open with each other. So will you ever be actually telling him about our dating?” I asked out of curiosity. She playfully tapped on my head as if she was annoyed by my question for a second. Then she answered continuing stoking my head.

“Well, Yes! I may someday tell him about it. He already knows that you’re very close me and giving me foot rubs. So? I might say that I invited you to come for a dinner date with me and that I even asked you to stay-over for break-fast” she said coolly.

“Ah! ‘Not lying but telling half of the truth!’ Very clever! That reminds me? So what do we have for break-fast?” I asked trying to make an excuse to say longer.

“We are having just only Banana and milk! Now if you have finished drinking that glass of milk, you better run-off and get ready. If not you’re going to be late for your lectures. Come on Hurry! Now get moving your ass” she said padding on my back and chasing me off.

Aunt Hillary said that we would one in away use my room on for our dating. I wanted to give Aunt Hillary a special treat on the occasion inviting her to my room. After all, if I was going to be the host then I had to make a good impression. I spent more time in the study room going through Uncle Bill’s old book s and boxes.  Among those boxes of books, I found a box of some cosmetic equipment and hand written notes of giving homemade foot-spas which I thought would be useful for me.

We talked about our ‘first date’ and made witty remarks about it there after when the two of us were alone. But to the outside we showed no difference. I was less shy to face Aunty thereafter but my respect towards her increased. It brought us closer, made us friendlier and helped us both work as team and achieve more. We both benefitted through it. I continued to rub Aunt Hillary’s feet from the very next day as usual. The only change introduced to the routine was Aunty allowing me to place a soft ‘Good-night’ kiss on her feet after I finished rubbing her feet.

After two weeks, considering the good marks I had got for my semester exams Aunt Hillary agreed to give me a second date. I invited Aunt Hillary this time to my room as planed. It was a Thursday, the 25th of January 1991 to be exact.

I re-arranged my room a bit pulling in an easy-chair from the verandah early that evening. I also brought in a foot stool in to my room which was lying idle in the study room. Then I had a shower and went to watch TV with Aunt Hillary. Aunt Hillary said that we better have dinner as usual and start on our ‘date’ afterwards. I also liked it that way as dinning was not what was important to me either. Thus there were no interesting dramas that evening to be watched we had dinner just after the news was over. Then I returned to my room. Aunt Hillary said she would sneak-in in about fifteen minutes after finishing some of her household chores.

I brushed my teeth, refreshed myself and changed in to a pair of boxer shorts. I switch-offed the room lights except for the table lamp which I use when I study till late in the night. I left the room door ajar and opened it when there was a knock on it. All lights in the verandah and living room were switch-offed. A faint outline of Aunt Hillary’s figure was visible against a pitch black background.

Aunt Hillary had changed into a knee length Black satin housecoat and was wearing a pair of Black Marabou-mules. She entered the room briskly as if to avoid any gossipy neighbor spotting her enter my room at this time of the night. She closed the door behind her and gave me a hug.

“Here’s a small present for you” she handed over a well wrapped flat package. I first guessed it to be a box of chocolates. Then I felt it was a bit too hard and heavy to be a chocolate box. May be sensing my curiosity, Aunt Hillary said what it was.

“It is an old book gifted to me by my sister a few years back when she returned from a trip to the states. The book is titled “The Happy Hooker – My Own Story” by an author named Xaviera Hollender. It’s said to be sort of a self-biography of the author.  Xaviera is a woman of my age and the book had been first published in 1972. This copy is of its 1984 paper-back edition. I tried to buy a new copy of it for you but none of the local book stores had it. One store promised me that they would get down a copy for me. When I get it’ we can exchange our copies then, because this has Demi’s note on it” she said making herself comfortable sitting on the bed.

“I’ve figured that you get turned-on a bit listen to sexy confessions. So I thought you’d like madam Xaviera’s stories much more that Aunt Hillary’s stories” she laughed. “And it’ll keep you occupied when I’m not around to tell you stories. But remember not to neglect your studies and tell you found this book on a shelf in the study room; in case your parents get curious to where the hell you got a book of this sort” she continued laughingly.

“Thanks for the book Aunty. I’ll be careful that my parents wouldn’t see me reading it” I said.

“Hmm. I think that would be much better especially because it has Demi’s note on it. They’ll wonder what kind of sisters we are to exchange this type of books” she said with wink. “So what do we do now?” she asked playfully.

“I’m going to treat you to a foot-spa first. Please could you move on to this easy-chair” I said as if an experienced masseuse.

“Wow” she said while standing up, removing her house coat, putting it on the bed and sitting on the chair. She was wearing a Black chemise and panty as she did on our previous night. I placed the flat plastic tray I had found in the study room beside her feet and filled it with milk. I bought a bottle of fresh-milk from the grocery store on my way home that afternoon. I helped her feet out of the mules and placed them in the tray of milk.

“Woo. A milk bath for my feet! I must admit that this is after a long-long time I’m going to enjoy such a treat. Thank you very much darling” she exclaimed with happiness while fondling my hair as I sat in front of her on the floor cross-legged. Once I started to dip my hands in the milk and rinse her feet in milk, pouring them over her insteps and ankles she fell back on the chair and closed her eyes.

“Thinking of it, it was Harry who last treated my feet to a milk-bath. It was the day before we left to Australia. I accompanied him on his departure to Australia and he wanted our last night together at home to be memorable. So he treated me to a special foot-spa like this. I think that he too used this same plastic tray on that day. Wonder how come you came-up with the same idea?” she said with curiously after some time.

“He surely had done some home-work on giving your feet a milk-bath. I found a book with some hand-written notes inside it in one of those boxes in the study room. Yes! Even this plastic tray was along with them. I thought it must have been a work of Uncle Bill though?” I said.

“Nuh! Harry would have stuffed them in the study the next morning. I surely must tell him that you are copying his style” Aunt Hillary said with a slight smile on the face while enjoying my pampering her feet with her eyes closed again. “Does he speak to you every day?” I asked.

“Not every day. But they speak at least twice a week. Either Demi or Harry speaks to me or I call them. They are four and a half hours ahead of us. So it is around five or six local time that they are free; just before going to bed. Nowadays I get two routine calls almost twice a week; one from Australia and the other from Pussellawa, from your mother. Madhu often calls around eleven in the morning after she finishes cocking lunch for Karl” aunt went on explaining.

“Now! All of a sudden why did you want to know about ‘Harry’s calling’?” Aunt Hillary asked playfully. “May be I felt a bit jealous of him, hearing that he was the one who treated your feet to a milk-bath this way. And also because he now is probably giving your sister and niece both foot spas like this at his will” I said with my lips tight suppressing a smile. I actually felt jealous of Harry for having access to two beautiful women’s feet. I had seen Aunt Demi’s and Diane’s photos and knew they were gorgeous women; more like sisters that mother-and-daughter.

Aunt Hillary opened her eyes and looked at me with surprise. Then a smile came across her face and gave me a very loving but seductive look.

“You Jealous Fox!” she said crossing her legs spontaneously. This made some milk splash on to my chest and face. Milk was dripping down her Right foot.  Seductively Aunt Hillary raised her Right foot higher, arching it and drifting the milk coated over her foot towards her big toe. A bubble of milk started to form beneath her big toe. She very seductively lifted her foot over my face. I took the hint and lifted my face up, and lapped the dripping milk off her toes with my tongue.

“Oh! Poor little jealous Baby, Hungry for Mama’s foot milk?” she seductively dipped her foot back in the milk and started to feed me milk with her toes.


A FOOT CRANK’S CONFESSION - Part 01 of 37

 

A FOOT CRANK’S CONFESSION

 

 

 

 

 

 

A piece of Literature creates a world through a poet’s reflections. It may look similar to the real world, but it is not. The Doctrines and phenomenon in the real world may not be applicable in it. Therefore, it should not be measured or judged, using the same yardsticks such as laws, ethics and methods, which are used in the real world˜

 

-“Kalpana Lokaya” (World of Reflections)

   Prof. Ediriweera Sarachchandra

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A FOOT CRANK’S CONFESSIONan erotic novel

 

I am Tom Kalkalan, a foot crank, know to my closest school friends as “Lickfoot Papissa”; meaning ‘foot maniac’. This is my confession. Most of the places and incidents mentioned are true, but the characters may not be so. If at all some of the characters resemble true people please consider it to be purely a coincidence.

My father was Karl and my mother was Maduri. We live in Pussellawa, in the central hill country of Sri Lanka; a beautiful island state in the Indian Ocean – at the very tip of the Indian continent. My only sister Rachel now lives in Canada with her husband and two children. I continue to live with my wife Amanda and two children in Pussellawa, at our family estate.

The main Character of my confession revolves around Aunt Hillary, the best friend of my mother at school, who I first met in 1990 when I was twenty. Our active relationship lasted only for about three year, but it made a huge difference to my life.

Aunt Hillary was a widow when I met her first. She lived in Wattala, close to the island capital of Colombo, in a house she had built with her late husband Bill. Her only son Harry had migrated to Australia at the time I met her.  Harry, his wife Diane and their children still live in Australia.

Aunt Hillary too migrated to Australia and lived the last decade of her life in New South Wales with her only sister Demi. Aunt Hillary would have been seventy-nine years old if she still lived. This confession is mainly in honor of the sweet memories of her.

Tom (October 2022)

A FOOT CRANK’S CONFESSION - Part 02 of 37


 

CHAPTER ONE:

I, Tom Kalkalan was born on the 03rd of July 1970. My father Karl had been forty years old then and my mother Madhu had been twenty seven when I was born. They had been married for eight years and my elder sister Rachel had been five years by then. We lived in a large Tea estate in Pussellawa - Sri Lanka, which my father had inherited and expanded. My father was a born planter, while as a little boy I thought that my mother was ‘happy to remain a house wife’.

I, as a youngster was quite shy especially around strangers but witty and talkative among familiar crowds. I went to a ‘boys-only’ boarding school in Kandy and spend only very little time at home during my schooling years.

I actually can’t remember from when, but from the time as long as I could remember I’ve felt that the feet of elderly women had a great impact on me. Being a believer in re-incarnation, I think it must have come from my previous lives. There is no other explanation to it. Whenever I gazed a beautiful pair of feet of elderly women, especially the ones with puffy-pinkish heels, clean and soft looking soles & beautiful toes my heart gets heavier even now. As a kid, it was as if I couldn’t breathe when I saw such feet. My heart would jump to a stop for a moment especially if those feet were in high heeled sandals.

Was this a sexual desire back then? I’ve always asked myself. I don’t think it could be called so as I was not even sexually mature at that time. It would have been only a very innocent lust, but a very powerful one. All I wanted then was to just watch at elderly women’s pretty feet.

Spending most of my childhood in a boy’s boarding school did not leave me with many chances in doing so. It is true that most of our primary school teachers were female but only a few of them had feet for my liking. My third grade teacher Ms. Catherine Jones was a specialty among them.

Ms. Catharine would have been about thirty five year old then. She used to wear a pair of wedge-heeled open toe mules with her sari. She walked through the rows of our desks every now and then inspecting our books. Whenever she was passing me, I worked very hard to catch a glimpse of her beautiful feet. She had a dark skin. Her insteps were almost coffee-brown. But her heels and soles were light pinkish in color. She painted her toe nails with a similar pinkish polish. Her dark-brown sandals matched her feet perfectly. I would drop a sheet and paper on to the aisle in-between our desks hoping she would step on it, and leave an imprint of the sole of her sandal. Several times she stopped by to tell me. “Tom, you have again dropped one of your drawing papers. Pick it up” Then one day she became careless and went on stepping on my sheet of paper leaving a clear dust mark of her shoe sole on it.  The shape, the outline and the checkered pattern of the rubber sole all were very clearly stamped on the paper. It was a great achievement for me. I cherished that piece of paper for a long time to come.

On most Fridays my father came to pick me up and took me home for the weekend. It was like going to haven, not only because I could get away from that boring boys hostel but also because I knew I could catch a few glimpses of my mother’s or sister’s feet while at home. If I was extremely lucky I would see my mother in high heels. That was if we decided to go visit our aunt during the weekend. Mother often wore a pair of medium high open-toe mules or a pair of thong type sandals with kitten heels on such occasions.

Having to go for family wedding during school vacations was something I loved very much. Often I would get-to-gather with my cousins who were mostly my own age and run around the reception hall like all kids usually do. No one was much bothered when we crept and crawled under the tables while playing. I would often pick and choose the tables where my female relatives sat to crawl in and hide. All my aunts, elderly cousins and even granny’s were in there best foot ware; glistering gold sandals with stiletto heels and freshly painted toe nails on such occasions. I thoroughly enjoyed playing hide and seek crawling among such feet.

During my childhood, the queen of my fantasy world was Aunt Goldie. Aunt Goldie was the elder sister of my father. She was about seven year elder to my father. They were the only children in their family and inherited their parent’s tea estate. Later my father had bought Aunt Goldie’s share of it too. Aunt Goldie lived in a house she had bought a few kilometers away from our estate. Her two sons were studying and working in Colombo as long as I can remember, and only Aunt Goldie and her husband were at their home. So my parents visited them often and looked into their needs.

Aunt Goldie’s house was on a steep slope. There was a high retaining wall in front the house and a tall earth embankment at the rear. A long dark corridor ran parallel to the rear embankment to which the bedrooms opened. The bathroom was at the end of the corridor. They had a fierce-looking German shepherd named “Nile”. It was cadged in the rear adjacent to the bathroom.

Some days when we were at Aunt Goldie’s place Nile was let loose for a while. We were asked to sit still and make no sharp movements. Nile would come and sniff each of us, and then go to where Aunt Goldie was and lie beside her feet. Aunt Goldie then would place her tiny little feet over the dog and stroke its coat lovingly with her feet. Every time I saw her do that I felt very jealous. I wished that I could be Nile and get caressed by Aunt Goldie’s feet.

Though Aunt Goldie was the Queen of my fantasy world she was by no means a sexy looking voluptuous woman. Instead she was a very petite lady. In fact she was a very soft spoken simple lady. She never wore anything other than plain-colored cotton saris. I have never seen her in heeled sandals. She always wore a pair of shiny black thong type slippers. The straps of it were decorated with a row of small flowers. She never painted her toe nails, but her feet were always very clean and soft looking; almost like the feet of a baby.

In my fantasies, I imagined that Aunt Goldie was a queen of a secret clan. I imagined her kingdom to be under- ground and its entrance through the earthen embankment behind her house. The dog ‘Nile’ I imagined was guarding the secret entrance to her kingdom. I imagined that Aunt Goldie at night fall entered her secret kingdom to be enthroned as queen. Young maids such as my sister and elderly cousin sisters would be waiting for her arrival to dress her up as queen. Queen Goldie‘s costume as I imagined was a simple white cheese-clothe, knee- length house coat. She would also ware a pair of open-toe stiletto heeled gold high-heeled sandals and a crown of flowers with her hair let loose. How I come up with such an imaginative costume I’m not sure. May be I had seen some pictures of Elisabeth Taylor as Cleopatra in the newspapers.

Her throne was a wooden teacher’s chair; one so familiar to me like the one Mrs. Catherine use to sit. All the men I knew including me, my father and Aunt Goldie’s sons would lie on the floor and form a carpet for Queen Goldie to walk-up to her throne. Aunt Goldie’s husband Uncle Ronald would lie just under her throne presenting his naked belly to be used as a foot-rest to her.

Once when I was at Aunt Goldie’s place, I happened to follow Uncle Ronald into their bed room. There was a white enamel pot with a lid beside their bed. Curiously, I asked Uncle Ronald what it was, “Oh! That’s a ‘pee-pot’. Your aunt Goldie is afraid to go to the bathroom alone in the middle of the night. So she pees into this pot and I empty it to the closet when I happen to go for a leak” he replied laughingly. In my fantasies I imagine Uncle Ronald holding a golden pee-pot on his chest so that when Queen Goldie wants to pee, she could use it. Back then I would have not considered peeing as an act of domination or authority. I’m sure it was not sexual at all because I had neither any idea nor interest of how Aunt Goldie’s Virginia would have looked like. My main focus then was her feet and nothing else.

Most of the mature women I knew including my mother and Mrs. Catherine would visit queen Goldie’s chamber and sit beside her in glistering high-heels while getting their men to lie on the floor as their foot rests. We all boys would kneel before them, kiss their feet and get their blessings. They were the ones who ruled that underground kingdom in my fantasies. I was not aware of the mythical tribe called ‘the Amazons’ by that time. Amazons are also said to be a female worrier tribe who expel all the men and elderly boys out of the tribe; allowing them in to the tribe only for reproduction needs. My fantasy world ruled by Queen Goldie was also something similar to that I guess.


A FOOT CRANK’S CONFESSION - Part 03 of 37








CHAPTER TWO:

In 1986 I turned sixteen. By then I was sexually matured and had started to masturbate. The boys at the school hostel collected pornographic material such as photos and magazines and hid them in various secret places that the warden wouldn’t find. Most of the boys loved to collect picture of naked women and always talked about their breasts and pussies. But what turned me most were obviously their feet. Whether in her nude or not, I collected pictures where women’s feet were exposed; bare or in high heeled sandals. Women showing the soles of their bare feet while in a bikini or fully naked were my favorites. I’d bargain to do anything to own such pictures from my friends.

Soon, the boys of the hostel got to know about my major foot fetish. They found it very amusing and named me “Lick Foot Paa-pissa”. Paa-pissa in Singhalese means “foot crank”.

At home we usually left our shoes in the hall-way outside our rooms. There was a common shoe rack in between my sisters and my mom’s rooms. Most of the shoes that weren’t worn frequently by them were also kept in it. Which meant that most of my mother’s and sister’s high-heeled sandals that they wore only for special occasions were kept in it. They both wore the same shoe size and therefore they used such sandals in common.

Once I stated masturbating I got into the habit of sneaking freshly worn pairs of such sandals into my room at night and sniff them while masturbating. I would place the high-heels on my pillow and imagine them sitting on the bed head with their feet in those sandals. The musky smell and the smooth imprint of their feet in the shoes turned me on like mad. I was very careful not to get caught and replaced the sandals back on the rack before anyone woke-up.

I sat for my Advance Level Examination when I was eighteen. It was quite obvious I failed the exam with the kind of twisted mind and lack of concentration on to my studies. My parents wanted me to re-sit the exam the following year. I had to stay at home and study for the re-sit exam. Therefore I joined a few mass-tuition revision classes in Kandy. I had to travel from Pussellawa to Kandy by bus to attend those classes, which was almost about a one-and-half hour journey.

This gave me the opportunity to loiter in the city of Kandy a bit, and it also opened-up new vistas in my fantasy world. The town was full of beautiful ladies with gorgeous feet. I just spent time following them with a distance watching their heels go up and down. The most favorite place that I hung around was the Kandy Central Municipal Market. It has a large entrance lobby with two staircases on either side. The upper floor of the market housed mainly batik, textiles and other fancy item shops. At that time it was the only decent shopping mall in the town where the respectable ladies could do their shopping, all under one roof. I got use to stand in a corner and watch the ladies climb the stair case of the market. Whenever I found an exceptional pair of feet ascending the stairs I would follow them with a distance. I loved to watch those beautiful heels go up and down; turning from pale white to crimson red each time they step up and down, right inline of my eye level. Usually my underwear was soaking wet with pre-cum when I got in to a bus to return home spending a few hours in the market.

At this time came a political unrest in the country known as the 1988-89 rebellion, where young rebels with arms tried to gain control of the country. During this era about 60,000 young men and women were killed all over the country, by official and un-official armed forces in an attempt to suppress the rebels. The bodies of the killed were dumped beside roads on burning tires. It became a time that if was not safe to leave the home anymore and I gave up the idea of re-setting the exam, also because all the universities in the country were closed indefinitely.

About a year passed in such turmoil. Finally my father decided that I should study Business Management at the National Institute of Business Management. He said that it would prepare me take over the management of the estate once he retires. The best business management course regarded at the time was the three year full time Diploma course at this Institute in Colombo. We called the institute and inquired about the course. They said that lectures for a new batch were starting on the following Monday and there were still a few spots vacant in it. It was Saturday and we had only two days act.

We left Pussellawa early morning on Sunday, the 18th of March 1990. It was my father who drove our station-wagon with my mother in the front passenger seat and me in the rear seat. My sister by then was living with her husband in Canada. She got married and migrated during the previous year; in 1989.

By about ten in the morning we came to the Institute and by eleven all the registration works were completed. The lectures were scheduled from Mondays to Fridays during the morning’s hours, I was told. Our next aim was to find a place for me to stay. We went to a restaurant and had some early lunch. While having lunch my father went through the Sunday newspaper and looked for possible rooms advertised for rent. We called a few rooms advertised from a coin-phone booth nearby. Most of the rooms had already been given out. We visited a few rooms that were available but they were not what they claimed to be. It was getting late and we were starting to panic a bit. It was then my mother remembered her old school friend; Aunt Hillary.

“Hillary is now a somewhat prominent social worker and she would have many contacts. She’s the only one I could think of who could help us right now” mom said. Though mom and Aunt Hillary had not spoken to each other in a long time, lucky enough mother had her number written in the small phone book she carried in her handbag all the time. We called her from an agency post office as we didn’t have cell phone back in those days.

Aunt Hillary had been my mother’s best friend at school and also had been roommates in the hostel. She lived in Wattala, a bit away from the city of Colombo. My mother explained to her the situation briefly over the phone. She had said she could look for a place but that it would take a few days. Until then she had offered to provide me a room at her place. Through “a bit far” she had said, I could catch a direct bus from her place to my institute. As I had no other option I agreed to stay at Wattala for the time-being until we could find a place during the next weekend.

Aunt Hillary’s house was on a sub road, a little off the Colombo-Negambo main road. It was a bit of an old fashioned house from the outset, but was well modified from inside. It stood in a clam and quite neighborhood with a large fore-court in front. It was almost turning dark when we reached there.

Aunt Hillary was in the front verandah to welcome us.Oh! Madhu, so glad to see you girl! I think we meet after about ten years, Right? You know Karl; I always called her back then and informed her about our collage Old Girls union function. But she never showed any interest in coming and I just gave up on her. I’m so glad you finally came to see me. Oh, my God! Look how grown-up this guy is? I still remembered him as a little boy who I have carried˜ she said in between the hugging and kissing. She invited us in and made to sit in the living room.

Aunt Hillary was then forty seven years old then, the same age as my mother. She too was slim and petite like my mother and could have easily been mistaken to a thirty-five years old. She had a graceful gorgeousness of her own with black hair, dark blue eyes, pinkish-red lips and monotone olive skin. And then there were those feet !!!.

Aunt Hillary was seated with her legs crossed. Her right foot was dangling in the air while her other foot was firmly rested on the floor. She had the most perfect feet I had ever seen. The fair but tanned instep of hers feet molded out flawlessly from the shine across her ankle joint, which was narrow but well-shaped. A smooth looking pinkish heels padded around her ankle. She had perfectly formed toes with neatly clipped nails. She had painted her toe-nails with a glistering light pink shade of polish on that day. She wore a silver toe rings on the second toe of each of her feet and a thin silver anklet on her right foot.

Aunt Hillary was wearing a cotton blouse with a three quarter length flared skirt on that day. Her hair was in a loose plait. She wore a pair of reddish translucent flexible plastic thong type slippers, which had silver studs on its straps. Aunt Hillary was seated on one end of the three-cushion couch with my mother at the other end of it. My father and I sat on the arm chairs across the small coffee table. Aunt Hillary was right in front of me and I had a good view of her feet without the obstruction from the coffee table.

Aunt Hillary was twisting her right ankle, and wagging her foot rhythmically from time to time while chatting with my parents. Her slipper was dancing off her toes. I was not paying any attention to the conversations that were going on. My whole attention was on Aunt Hillary’s feet, and trying hard to hide the erection of my penis within my pants. My under-wear was already getting socked with pre-cum.


A FOOT CRANK’S CONFESSION - Part 04 of 37


 

CHAPTER THREE:

Oh! Hilly Darling, I’m so sorry about Bill. I heard about the tragedy from Brenda months after it happened. And that’s when I called you. I promised to come and see you I know. But? Karl was always busy during the weekdays and you said you often go out on weekends for your charity work. So I didn’t actually get a chance to make it. Even today, being a Sunday, I prayed to God that you better be at home before I called. We were so desperate in finding a place for Tom to stay˜ mother said.

Aunt Hillary’s husband had been on airline pilot and had died in late 1987, in a car crash while he was in the States. Uncle Bill who was two years younger to Aunt Hillary had only been 42 years old when he died.

It was such a shock Madhu. I still sometimes can’t believe it has happed. It was not a scheduled flight for him. He usually never flew to the States. But with some pilots gone on leave, the airline asked him to substitute, and he went. He had two days before returning and he had hired a car to do some site-seen. He does it usually; whenever he gets a chance he would go see the country sides. He loved to travel. Unfortunately while driving over a cliff he had lost control of the car and fallen off straight down a cliff about fifty meters. The body was so crushed we had him cremated there and brought only the ashes here˜ Aunt Hillary explained with tears in her eyes.

“I was so devastated. I would have gone mad if Harry was not around at that time˜ she continued. “Oh! And where is Harry now? My mother interrupted.

 

“He is now in Sydney, Australia with my sister Demi. Demi as I’ve told you got settled down in Sydney with Diane after her divorce. Diane, you remember her daughter? She would have been very little once you last saw her? Diane, her is now 23 and is in the final year at the Sydney University of Technology. Diane is the one who helped Harry get enrolled in the same University. He went there last October. I too went with him and spent more than two months with Demi. I thought it was best for Harry to go. There seems no hope in entering a university here right now. You remember how it was the last couple of years? It was not at all a safe place for young boys. Especially Harry because he had that same radical arrogance of his father” Aunt Hillary laughed.

 

  “Not that he was into any polities of such. But you never could tell know? That’s why I asked Diane to see whether it was possible to get Harry to her university. Now he lives with Demi and Diane is their apartment. Diane and Harry, they both study computer science. In fact I was just on the phone with Demi. Harry and Diane were busy doing their course work for tomorrow˜ Aunt Hillary continued explaining.

 

“Harry was just a toddler the last time I saw him. He’s as same age as Tom I think? May be just a few months older” mom recalled.

 

“Harry is 12th August 1969. Tom is?” Aunt Hillary asked.

 

“03rd of July 1970” Mom said

 

“Tom is almost a year younger to Harry. And how is your daughter? Aunt Hillary asked.

 

“Rachel is expecting her first baby. The baby is due around May. They live in Canada. They migrated last year just after getting married” mom said.

 

Aunt Hillary served us tea and sat back in the same position in front of me' Aunt Hillary had been a pianist of the National Orchestra when she was young and had worked as a music teacher conducting her own classes. She said that she gave-up all her music teaching after Uncle Bill died. Since then she had got self-involved in many charity and social work. She explained that it helped her to overcome her loss and loneliness.

 

I was still watching and admiring Aunt Hillary’s feet. Her slipper was dangling off her toes. I was not paying full attention to the conversation going on. Suddenly she let loose the grip and allowed her slipper to fall on to the ground. I quickly looked up. Aunt Hillary was directly looking at me. I was not sure whether she noticed me gazing at her feet. I felt embarrassed.

Would you like to see your room Tom? It was originally modified for Uncle Bill’s friends who came to stay over-night. They usually came late at night or left early in the morning for their flights. The room was not used for some time. Luckily for you, I got it cleaned just a week ago as if knowing that you’ll be coming. What a coincidence?˜ she said with a grin.

My room at Aunt Hillary’s house was off the front verandah. She told my parents, she through this room would suit me giving me the freedom to come and go at my will. The room was furnished with a King-single size platform bed, a small writing desk and a word robe. The attached bathroom was quite spacious too.

Directly opposite my room across the verandah was the study room. The verandah also opened into the large living room that we were seated while having our tea. The intermediate niche between the living room and the study was used as a TV lobby. At the end of the living was the dining area, which was also attached to a small pantry cum family dining room.

The house had a court yard behind, which had been converted into a small swimming pool. On one side of the pool were the kitchen and servant’s quarters. On the other side was a bed room that had been Aunt Hillary’s son Harry’s. The visitor’s room and Master bed room were attached to the dining area.

As Aunt Hillary was showing us the room I was busy trying to catch a glance of her feet. At one Point, my parents had gone back towards the verandah and I was at the far end of the room. Aunt Hillary was in-between us standing by the writing table. She was turning her back to me and speaking with my mother. Then she pulled the chair back from under the table a bit and placed her folded knee on the chair, lifting out her Right leg off her slipper. Her soft looking pinkish sole of her Right foot was turned towards me. I couldn’t take my eye off that sight.

At once, she arched her foot creating a ripple of soft wrinkles across her arch and pointed her toes towards me. She waved her foot sideways as to say; ‘Hello, Pay your attention!’.

I quickly looked up. Aunt Hillary was looking at me smiling. This time it was very clear that she had caught me red-handedly while I was peeking out at her feet. My face turned beat-red. I was afraid my parents would notice the difference.

Well? Young man I hope you like what you’ve seen?” She asked flashing a radiant smile while putting her foot back on the ground and pushing the chair back in. I knew I had to reply her, but my mind was totally confused that I couldn’t think of what to say. I was glad that my mother answered on behalf of me.

Oh! This is much more than what I expected. You’re really an angle Hilly. I was so worried we wouldn’t find a place as half as decent as this for him to stay. If so he would have missed his lectures tomorrow. Please bare him for a week-or-so until we can find somewhere else, okay darling? Just don’t bother about his meals. He can eat from somewhere out. You allowing him to stay here itself are worth a millions. You don’t need to bother yourself a bit more darling” my mother said.

“This is not at all a bother Madhu. I’m not going to promise you any breakfast or lunch because I often get up late on most mornings Tom. But I can share some dinner with you if that would be okay with you. Mind you that my cooking is as not good as your mother’s cooking darling” Aunt Hillary said with laughter looking at me. Then she turned back to mom and said.

. “In fact I’m very glad you brought him to me Madhu. I was desperately longing to have some male company around the house anyway” Aunt Hillary said laughingly with a wink towards my parents.

We all laughed at her joke. Though it was considered to be a joke at that time, neither Aunt Hillary nor me knew how much our future lives were going to change from that day onwards.