I didn’t really want to look at Megan. I had no doubt she was still making it very clear to anybody that was interested that she didn’t really wan... to be here. She could be such a spoilt bitch! I was good-as-gold at her eighteenth birthday! Dad’s right hand was suddenly between my shoulder blades pushing me firmly forward onto the empty kitchen table. I complied of course, my upper body suddenly horizontal on the plain wooden surface. It was difficult not to look at Megan from this angle; she. “You want something?,” he speaks into the door. Silence inside. “May I open the door a little?,” he asks. He opens and peers in the crack. There is a new woman sitting up to her waist in milk, her wet and shiny torso and pert pointed breasts the colour of rich dark chocolate. She smiles and beckons him in. She mimes wiping herself with a towel. There isn’t one hanging on the rail. When he hurries to bring one back, she beckons him to soap her back, again with such a delicious smile. . More

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