street fighter menat

I left her there, naked and bleeding, and the next time I saw her, she was at the base of the west tower, having jumped to her death. Galvin told me not to concern myself with her, that she was simply a broken toy, and that I would find another. But I knew different. She wasn’t a broken toy, and though she made her choice, it wasn’t suicide; it was murder. I killed her. I hurt her, I violated her, and made her life so painful that I might as well have pushed her off that tower myself. I knew it, but I didn’t want to accept it.

This was many years ago, back when teachers could lay an encouraging hand on a student’s shoulder without being labeled a sex offender. Teachers could sit close by a student to help them with a hard concept, and no one thought anything of it. The boys flirted back with Mrs. B. and the girls got valuable lessons in how to attract boys’ attention and drive them crazy. It was fun. And, Mrs. B was married with a couple of young kids, not that it mattered. It was all just innocent fun.

Her hands shot up above her head, one to cover her mouth, while the other reached up to the ceiling to brace herself. Sarah’s body rocked with the most powerful orgasm she ever had. Every part of her trembled, shaking the bed as her toes curled in, but her hand on the ceiling kept her steady. Clapping her hand over her mouth she was barely able to suppress a long moan that came directly from her core. Her eyes were glued to her father watching his breath and listening to his snoring. Finally, her rolling orgasm came to an end, her father letting out a loud snore as he exhaled.