Chapter Six
The Understandings
He had eaten quickly and largely in silence.
He had been in the habit, on leaving for the day, of giving me a perfunctory peck on the cheek.
This day, instead, with some force but no real violence, he had pressed my cheek to the kitchen table, forcing me to bend, thrown the hem of my bathrobe up onto my back and roughly kneaded my bottom for a few long moments.
Then he spread me open, with the fingers of one hand and, with some firmness, pressed the thumb of the other onto, but not through, the rubbery gate between.
I heard myself make a mewling sound, like a hungry kitten; he gave in response a growl of both promise and menace, then bent, kissed the small of my back with surprising tenderness, and left without saying a word.
I stayed in that position
