My nipples straining against the sheer fabric of my dress, you bend down and take one in your mouth and suck so hard as your other hand gropes and fon...les my wet, swollen, aching cunt. ‘Fuck me, darling’, I whisper as I run my hands through your hair, fully enjoying your masculine domination over my body and mind. I can’t help but writhe against your body as it presses me hard against the wall, your hand fucking my soft cunt making me feel exposed and vulnerable in the elegant hallway of this. I needed that attention and the reassurance that he loved me and I thought that, as a woman, I automatically deserved it. He made it clear that I hadn't been earning it and that he would be content to let the house of cards that we called a marriage remain collapsed. It was a sad realization and I tried hard to find a way to blame him for it, but I could imagine each objection he would raise to any point I tried to make and I knew that they were inescapably damning.Finally I thought about what. She did not have to rise at 5am to black the range or wash the sheets in cold water in winter, or sleep in the cold garret or the basement where servants slept. She knew she was lucky; but her mind was atrophying. She had taken an interest in the Civil War. She had been fascinated that a democratically elected president could take undemocratic actions to prevent the break-up of the Union as a result of democratic votes in states in the South. When she tried to ask questions though, her mother. She replies, "Hi baby, I missed you". I walk over to give her a kiss and catch a glimpse of her cleavage. I ask, "How is your schoolwork coming along?". She bites her lip and turns back to her desk as if trying to hide her guilt. She replies, "Not well, I've been distracted and haven't even started me work yet", by this time it was 4pm and I know her schoolwork is due by midnight. My expression turns from concern to disappointment. I say "What have you been doing this whole time!? You were.