To me, he was my tormentor. There was nothing in the world that I hated more than that man, and he knew it. It had seemed like a personal goal of his ...o make my life a living hell. I had confided all that he had done to me to my grandmother, of my dead father’s side of the family. She was my savior, my angel, and the one person I loved and respected above all else. She had arranged for me to attend the Royal Jarvis Conservatory, a private school, in the south. It was a reputable school that. “I really like these shorts on you” he said. And with that, he turned, and walked out of the pantry with a coy little smile. I stood there for a minute after he left, replaying what had just happened. I was teasing uncle Steve, Uncle Steve was flirting back, and the worst part was that I liked it. The thought of his hard body pressed up against me, the way he smelled, the way he sounded. His firm, masculine grasp on my hips. The feeling of his hard cock against my butt. The replay of events. More

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