In her time she was the most covertly abusive person I’d ever seen. The whole village where we lived thought she was a saint. A kindly schoolteacher...and churchgoer. What they don’t know is that when she got mad, she would take it out on me. I couldn’t stand where and neither could many people. She always thought she was right and she was mean as hell. She was always pissed about my father’s affairs and when he told her to mind her own business, as he often did, she took it out on me. I hated. His thumb strummed slowly over my clit and I moaned softly as he started to work it in slow circles, pleasure rolling over me. God he was fucking talented, I thought, shutting my eyes again, leaning into his touch. I could almost hear his smile as his stroke picked up speed on my clit. I felt him push forward again, and there wasn’t pain this time, only more pleasure, more fullness. I moaned more, biting my lip, and before I knew it, he was seated fully within me and I was panting. “Please. God. More

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