"Is this naughty enough for you, Schoolboy?" Yes Miss," Dean replied his voice thick with lust as he watched my thumb and finger pinch my bare nipples... "Although," he carried on enthusiastically, "I always wondered what it would be like to see the teacher frig herself?" Why don't you get your cock out and I'll show you," I heard myself saying, throwing caution to the wind.Dean, obviously having anticipated my answer had already begun unbuckling his belt and I watched with baited breath, hardly. The wind slowly brushed past her, gently moving her clothes as it made its way into the tomb, lifting the grey dust and carrying it through the morning air. She felt nothing. She’d expected to feel some sort of satisfaction, pleasure or contentment… but no – nothing. No regret, no joy, no sadness. Her husband was dead, her revenge complete. So what? It had been seven days – seven long days. Days in which her supposedly loving Foster Brother had put her through every indignity imagined just so. More

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