I was tight, and my body resisted him. As wet as I was, it still hurt some. He continued to thrust in a bit further, until I tensed under him. “Are...you okay?” “Yeah, keep going. Please.” I begged. He hurt a bit, but it felt so good. He continued to enter me, and I kept my body as relaxed as I could, biting my lip to stop from making any noise. “You feel so fucking good.” “So do you,” I admitted. The head of him was at the back of me. He stayed there for a few moments, letting me get fully. They treated me very well. Mrs. Foster was happy to cook and clean for the family every day while Mr. Foster, now retired, sat around reading his newspaper and smoking his pipe. I sat all day long on the sofa devouring novels I had brought over from Europe. We made quite the old-fashioned family in many ways, but I knew it couldn’t last forever. Today was Christmas day. Mrs. Foster had invited a couple to dinner that she and Mr. Foster had known for many years, and a friend that they called. More

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