The key turns in the door lock as normal at five past eleven. Bern jumping to her feet pours two glasses of wine and grins like a Cheshire cat as Brid...et, dead on her feet, strolls into the lounge."Wow that's a lovely smiling greeting Bern" Bridget says"Yep and well deserved" Deserved, why what's the occasion?" First of all, sit down and have a glass of wine. Dinner is nearly ready too, cheese and broccoli bake" Lovely cheers hun. Come on don't leave me in suspense. My favourite dinner,. . but you're not.You were an unloved villager in an unknown town living an insignificant life. You were born the bastard son of a tavern wench who was knocked up by a passing stranger one night. The moment she could, your mother abandoned you to live a life of torment at the tavern keeper's hands. Living off scraps and serving as a source of relief by taking beatings, you've only gotten by on endurance and cunning to avoid more beat downs. This was your existence...... WAS being the. At home, there was never a “birds and bees” talk, just admonitions about being a “good girl” and the “wages of sin.” With Billy sex felt like a beautiful thing. But why did she feel guilty when Billy caressed her breasts and fingered her vagina?Though she’d been raised on Christian fundamentalism she had heard talk of wayward preachers who had come “short of the glory of God” by fornicating with women in their churches. She had to look up the word “fornicating” in the dictionary. She heard Mary. She was becoming relaxed and her excitement seemed to have also subsided. I then started on the front of her shoulders and same as the back, working further down with each successive stroke until my hands were brushing the tops of her thighs and mound, my arms were ever so lightly tickling her nipples with every stroke. As I moved toward her abdomen for some light circular feathery strokes, I looked back at her face. Her eyes were still closed, but I couldn’t help seeing that her nipples had.