Her language got worse as the night lengthened. "You're fucking smart, you know that. It's like you've always done this horseshit, damn I'm glad I tal...ed those assholes into this, look, let me call you something besides Whiff, okay? Whiff, that's pussy turds. Besides, it doesn't fit you. Come on." She liked Bill.By now, this tiny little studio we had been working in, nothing like those nice big mini theaters you see in movies, was strewn with two bottles of white wine, a lot of empty coffee. He told her she betrayed him by making me look like a slut, like a skank. My mother cried, I cried, but he didn't stop. And then one day, he went too far.Another blow. "Ow! Stop, please stop!" Nothing, he just kept going. Pressed against the couch there was nothing I could do. I saw my mom crying on the floor yelling at him to stop. Nothing worked. "Come here slut." He ripped my tank top off, revealing my black bra. I screamed. I tried to kick him, to break my way out of his grip, but he was. She was certainly quiet, having been taught privately since a young age therefore having never mixed with people of her own age, or any age for that matter besides her staid, uptight father who had often beaten his own old fashioned and petrifying Christian beliefs onto her, made even more orthodox by the fact he was incidentally the man at the centre of the village, the vicar of the villages small parish. He’d taken her in when she was found on the doorstep as no more than a baby and he was. Thinking they were going to leave for lunch I started to walk to the car. Watching as I walked I see her leaning over and giving him a kiss, I froze in my tracks. I stood there watching them have a kiss then his hands went into her hair as he started to kiss her harder. Shocked and frozen watching this happen and now clearly watching his hands cupping her tits. I swallowed hard wondering what to do. His seat went back and I could see my wife watching him with a smile on her face. They were both.
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