…,” Lydia gasped through clenched teeth, as she felt him stiffen inside her. Andrew gripped her arse tightly and started shoving his hips upwards ...nd driving his hard on fully into her drenched and sticky cunt. The bed was starting to shake as they fucked ardently. Lydia looked down at Andrew’s face and could see that his mouth was open, his eyes screwed tightly shut. He was approaching climax. Then, like an express train, it hit her. She felt her eyes roll to the back of her head, her vision. That fucks with your head." Shit." Peter was instantly uncomfortable and worried about her."Yeah. It taught me that my body is not my ally in life. It has an agenda as well, which sometimes does not coincide with my own. I hated him. I hated him so much I fantasized about how I would kill him. And yet, when he grabbed me by my hair and pushed me down onto my bed, I would get so wet. Every fucking time." Steph, are you okay? I mean, after all that happened, can I call someone?" No, I just want. I feel you relaxing in my arms. Unsure of what harm may be caused by entering your body in a soapy bath, I whisper into your ear ‘Shall we get dry before we both get wrinkled, and go and lay on the sheepskin rug in front of the fire?’ You seem a little reluctant at first, but slowly nod your head. We quickly finish off washing ourselves, and reach for the huge bath towels on the rails. They are very, very soft. White, with a gold trim around them, they are almost the size of sheets. The towel. After my mother died, I spent a lot of time thinking about her. About who I was. How she was always there to give me wisdom, and I was too young and conceited to notice. I took her for granted, along with everything else. She would surely vouch for my kindness, and I would gladly accept it, until the day she was gone and I was yanked from myself. Forced to look at what I really stood for. It kills me to say I wasn’t who she thought I was.Never overt, always indirect, my self imposed superiority.
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