Page 102 of The Strength Of A Woman

“It won’t change what he did to me. Plus, there was the rest of the family. They knew something was going on, yet they dismissed me when I asked for help. They pretended I was crazy. So, no. You’d need to take care of all of them.”

“I might do that, too.”

She splays her fingers over my chest.

“It’s too much for me to think about right now. Let’s do this without pondering the implications.”

“All right,” I say, glancing at her body.

“You can touch me, by the way,” she says, reaching for her zipper.

“You want any help with that?”

“No. I can do it. That’s how I did it in the past. You can sit over there.”

She points to the only chair in the room.

“He used to sit when he looked at me before he’d rise and come closer.”

“Hmm.”

“You can do it any way you want, but that’s how it started.”

“Okay.”

I slide into my seat and look at her.

Her back is turned to me, as she drags her hand down, unzipping her dress down to her rear.

She’s removed her panties, so once she steps out of them, with her back to me, I have the perfect picture of her legs, round ass, tapered waist and beautiful shoulders.

Her hair tumbles down her back before she gathers it and ties it into a bun at the top of her head.

Then she slips out of her shoes and walks into the shower booth, naked.

I imagined she did it with her back to him so she couldn’t see his eyes.

There is nothing sexual about this.

Nothing arousing, but it was probably for him, since his request wasn’t about sex as much as it was about exerting power over her.

And it fucking worked.

For the next few moments, I watch her clean her body with a small sponge. I barely get a glimpse of her tits, and she never turns around so I can see her pussy.

At some point, she runs the sponge between her legs, and although I can’t see a damn thing, I imagine that small object brushing her clit, which ignites a dark desire in me.

I’m more mad than I am aroused now that I know the context of this story.

She said we shouldn’t think about it.

It’s the only thing I can think about.

I’m jealous.

More like outraged, really.

I wish I could travel back in time and smash that man’s skull against the wall.