4
December
Beneath the covers, my nightdress was bunched up about my waist. The only light that filtered into the room was from the half moon. My fingers stroked over my eager flesh. I knew how to rub myself, to bring myself quick and very illicit pleasure. In the past, it had been fast as I worried that the Arnolds would know of my late night activities. When they never fired me for my wanton behavior, I had to assume I had been quiet enough in finding swift release. But when Mr. Quinn and Mr. Porter talked to me earlier in the day, it was their faces, their broad smiles, and their even broader shoulders that filled my mind. The pleasure that built was only greater still when I imagined their hands on my body. How, I didn't know, perhaps having one of their hands replacing mine between
