Widtsoe, a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, debunked the more-women-than-men myth, but many members continue to use it.
No reply from my wife. But then I hear bare footsteps patter from the bedroom opposite mine, and a chirpy, youthful voice. So we'll have to sort dinner again, then. My wife and I were more than happy to share our home.
Her mother - my sister in law - was very hospitable when we went to visit last year, and her and my wife are very close.
She wasn't too comfortable with her eldest daughter going off to a western country and living among strangers, no matter how prestigious the University is. So naturally, my wife provided a solution best for everyone. Safi would live with us during term time to allow her to settle in to the country, at least for the first year of study.
My sister in law was overjoyed, bless her, and Safi has been a perfectly pleasant guest since. I notice her clothing - a wine coloured tank top, that was cut maybe an inch too short, and a pair of grey sweat shorts, which not only followed the same trend, but were probably a size too small also.
I reflexively shifted my gaze down to look at the floor, awkwardly. There was brief silence, before I shuffled to take off my coat.
As I took off my coat, I watched as she turned and patted back towards her bedroom. Again, I instinctively look away, trying not to notice her shapely buttocks in those revealing shorts, swaying hypnotically with each step.
I check my phone, a text from my wife confirms what I was just told - another late shift, another evening with Safi. I plodded to the kitchen area to make a cup of tea for myself, and thought I'd make one for Safi too - poor kid, home alone all day with nothing to do but study, she could probably do with a break.
With both mugs in my hands, I make my way across the apartment towards her bedroom. Her door is half open, and I see her laying atop her bed on her stomach, leaning on her elbows while flicking through a book, facing away from me. Her bare legs are crossed over each other, with her feet leaning over the edge, giving her a slight wedgie, and revealing the crease under her buttocks, and her smooth, slender soles.
I admit my gaze lingers for more than a couple of seconds, but again, I snap away soon after. This sight wasn't too uncommon these past weeks.
And had become a regular occurrence over the last few days after work, with my wife working late. Why, just yesterday I got home to find Safi standing in the kitchen, making a juice or smoothie of some sort. She had clearly just gotten back from the gym or a run, as she was wearing a full length pair of gun metal grey yoga pants, which looked as though they were sprayed on to her legs, and a baggy University hoodie.
As I sat at the kitchen bench to have a snack, after exchanging pleasantries with Safi and learning she had in fact just gotten back from the gym downstairs, she let out a series of long, exhausted breaths, and began patting down the sweat beading on her forehead.
Fanning her hands about her face in an exaggerated manner, she then began removing her baggy hoody to reveal the sports bra she was wearing underneath - grey, like her yoga pants, and equally skin-tight. Sitting down opposite me at the kitchen bar, it was impossible not to notice her slender neck, and ample cleavage, as she chugged down about a pint of a viscous green fluid.
Without wanting to seem rude, I stayed put to finish my bowl of fruit while she distractingly stretched and massaged her shoulders, neck and chest. However, I had to take my leave when she got up to do yoga stretches on the mat laid out between the living area and kitchen.
However the most noteworthy moment occurred a few nights previously. It was a Friday, and my wife was due to start a night shift at 7: As I saw her off at the door, Safi wasted no time to "put on something more comfortable". Friday was movie night, so shortly after I sat down on the couch with a bowl of popcorn to start, Safi came to sit down next to me.
But rather than the modest midi-skirt and black jeans from earlier in the evening, she had apparently slipped in to her pyjamas, covered by a mid length dressing gown, tied up above her waist to hide her upper torso, but leaving her legs from a little above the knee on display.
Admittedly, there had been nothing out of the ordinary up to that point. Safi sat with her legs up on the couch with the popcorn between us, and we watched the first hour or so of the movie - Blade Runner - in silence.
However, soon after, Safi had moved the now empty bowl of popcorn to the coffee table in front of us, and as she returned to the couch, her seat was now where the bowl was earlier - right beside me. We continued to watch the movie in silence, but I was confronted with a different form of enticement every time I glanced away from the screen, or reached for the popcorn.
In the first instance, immediately after sitting next to me, she had put her feet up to rest on the coffee table. Occasionally she would stroke one of her bare legs with the opposite foot, as if to scratch an itch.Hindi Essay/Paragraph/Speech on “Shaheed Bhagat Singh”, “शहीद भगतसिंह” Complete Essay, Speech for Class 10, Class 12 and Graduation and other classes.
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