Into that isolated cove, Piyumi had taken Nadika to bathe.
After scrubbing and rinsing each other, they'd laid out on a rock to sun themselves, Nadika's lithe and slender form stretched out beside Piyumi's somewhat portly one.
“How do you keep yourself so firm,” Nadika asked, “through three children of your own, and now five children of theirs?”
“Sometimes I wonder,” Piyumi said, cupping one breast. “They've served me well and still thrill my husband—or so he tells me.” She laughed softly and then the smile fled her face. “Why shouldn't we trust Imran?”
Nadika told her about the young woman barely beyond girlhood who'd been r***d between two stakes and then had been killed with a third thrust up into her abdomen through her v****a.
Piyumi sat up and draped her dressing gown around her
