A metafictional Roland for my anarchic Oliver. But we’ll give the literature a rest for the moment because adjacent to the basement coffee shop was...a little barber shop. For some reason Jane found it stimulating to be sitting next to a room where men went to be shaved. Whether she had Delilah in mind or Sweeney Todd, I can not say, but something in the conjuncture gave her libido a tweak. ‘James’, she would say, ‘I want you.’ We didn’t use the four-letter words, not to each other. But ‘I want. I was beyond caring then & did not protest, still pretending as if asleep. Senthil slowly pulled my saree up to my thighs and begin to caress them & then beginning to knead & squeeze them. He tried to pry open my legs and I voluntarily slowly spread open my legs for him and he pushed his hand in between my thighs. The bus was in darkness & no one else was aware of this erotic act between we two. Senthil knew I will not resist now & was sensuously caressing my inner thighs & moving his hand. More

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