Copyright Jeff Tikari 2012-01-24
A Smashwords edition
Kali yawned and opened his eyes to narrow slits. His bride of two days stood in the door way of the hut against the morning sun, her semi-transparent sari revealed her sensuous body. Kali felt the beginnings of arousal nudging him awake. He called to her:
“Don’t call me that. Only my Papa calls me that.”
“OK, yar, Mangli, what are you looking at? Screwing up your pretty face; come back here.”
Mangli looked back and saw the mischief in his eyes. “No chance,” she said. “I have to fetch water, light the fire, cook a meal and do a thousand other things,” she stuck her tongue out at him.