I found myself wanting him more and more, but since I had not been with anyone but my husband for the last 14 years of my life, I was scared. Excited ...ut scared. My sex life with my husband was like my life with him, boring and on his terms. He never kissed me, never fondled me, never cared about my pleasure. I was a cum deposit for him. We never made love, he fucked me for his release. As the days turned into weeks, it became a daily routine for me to masturbate, thinking of John. Once we even. A short while after my eleventh birthday, Uncle Tristram abandoned us, my aunt said it was for a ‘bit of totty.’ Overnight my lonely, albeit cosy existence, became clouded and miserable as my aunt grew moody and bitter. She began the complaint that was to continue until her death, to moan and berate men as scum, interested in no-one except themselves.“I’m surprised you knew,” I spat. “It happened long before we moved here.”“I didn’t know that my dear,” she lied. “Men can be so cruel and. More

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