His hands found their way to my hips and then to my ribs. I leaned forward, biting down nervously on my lower lip, anticipating what was about to happ...n.He slipped his lips on to mine, easily and gentle-like. Oh, my God, I loved his slow and methodical touch.Guys my age were usually over me and done within a matter of seconds. Pete was the exact opposite. It was as if he enjoyed the tease.I pushed my tongue into his mouth and in an instant, we were physically connected in a way that was. She looked at me and I nodded hello to her. We bothturned our attention to the on-going conversation."Dear, get me a Pinot Noir over there." I turned surprisedly to thewoman next to me. She stood an inch taller than me and was dressed in amexpensive wool skirt and designer blouse accessorized with well chosenjewelery. I avoided such women because I never found success with them.Indeed they seemed to avoid me as well.I took her glass from her out-stretched hand and silently went to thewine. Each smack is given harder than the last. I am holding back the tears from fear, from the pain, and most importantly my regret. He lectures me in between each blow reminding me of the whore I've been and always will be and how tightly I need to be controlled. He proceeds to tell me that I will not allowed to wear make up and that each night after work I'll spend more time in the corner after recounting aloud to him what I did. The lectures will continue for month and each day I will endure some. It is the last night I will ever spend in my family home, and I can’t seem to stop the tears from welling in my eyes at the thought. In the middle of my contemplations, a knock sounds from the door. Before she even opens the wood panel, I know it is my mother, coming to see her daughter one last time. She enters my quarters, and I see she is bearing a small black box in her hand. ‘My daughter, you bring your family great honor tomorrow,’ she says. As we sit together on the edge of the bed, I.