But it was my own fault that when Papa got home from the pulpwood, I was still sitting there admiring my brand-new shining quarter, and not a bed made...or a floor swept. The minute I heard his step on the front porch, I flew up and started in; but of course it was too late. He stood in the doorway before I had hit a dozen licks with the broom, glaring at me; it hadn't taken but one glance to show him that I had done wrong. "I don't know what I'm going to do about you," he said in his heavy. So, what I did, was no where near cheating. My hands didn’t touch anything. It was only like a minute, compared to the three years, which was well over one and a half million minutes that were all Aaron’s. A few minutes, compared to all of those, was really no comparison. That’s how I justified it. I wasn’t going to worry about it anymore, even though it did consume so much of my thoughts.I just couldn’t get Michael out of my head. He knew how to make a woman cum. I just knew it. He probably. More

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