The young Kumar's wife dancing bright, Offering to all exciting pleasant sight. Making her waist into the vivacious folds, Throwing the eye glances to the folks. Her neap tide vest and spring tide bosom, Unruly, swelling, her case cannot fathom. Clicking in each step of her movements, Opening up websites for entertainments.
Kumar's mind troubled by whirlpools, Maybe a dandy love-lorn in her pulls? Leaving his children sleeping uncared for, Kumar gets busy to spy for wife's pinafore. Desdemona remains still erotic but chaste, Why is there no change in Othello's haste? What if messy Iago one scarf steals? Is there a dearth of scarves in Malls still?
