Innocent Temptation

One

s*x.

I was addicted to it, it was something my body couldn't go without for long periods of time. Something my body craved, and yearned for. Something that angered me because I couldn't help it.

Whenever I denied my body from it's itssure it would only find a way to completely torture me.

As a child, father warned me to stay away from things that didn't belong to me or things I couldn't have.

But I never listened, if I wanted something I would always get it.

Growing up, I was always a spoiled brat to people because of it and they were completely wrong.

In the eyes of the world I was his daughter, also known as a young seductress who was incredibly reckless.

Reckless.

An adjective used for a person or their actions without thinking or caring about the consequences of an action.

The word was used a lot for me when I turned sixteen, I seem to not have a care in the world.

Today is my nineteenth birthday, Grandma being the holy Christian she is prayed with me for over twenty minutes about a long and sinless life.

"Must you show so much skin?" Grandma gave me a disapproving look as I emerged from the long, white stairs. The sound of people talking filled the room, the words 'Happy Birthday Honey' written on a banner.

Men dressed in formal suits and women with dresses hitting their ankles. Here I was with a cut short, wine colored dress that hit my mid thigh. A deep v-neck showing off the curves of my breast.

"Isn't there something in that bible of yours which says, 'Thou shall be comfortable in thy skin'?" she glares at me and clutches the small, brown book tighter in her hands.

"Honey, come here please" I look to see father speaking to a woman and a man.

I join him as he stands along with a family, a married woman who seems to be narrowing her eyes at me and a her husband who cannot take his eyes off of my exposed thighs in the short dress which exposed the deep view of my breast.

"Honey, this is Mariana and her husband. You know them well, yes" Father introduces and I stare at the couple whom I have never once seen in my life, he glares at me to go along with it.

"Actually no, I don't" I give the woman a short smile and she plasters a fake smile on her lips.

"I was best friends with your mother in college, around your age" she clasps her hand around her husband's arm and he only licks his lips staring into my eyes.

"Eyes just like hers. She will be truly missed" My own smile threatens to fades but I keep it.

"Mother had never mentioned you, are you sure the two of you were even close?" I respond with a slight head tilt.

"That's enough Honey" Father warns and I roll my eyes.

The nerve half of these people have, to pretend as if they new my mother for the loving person she was only to be the same people bashing her as well as me for something we had never asked for.

The fact father allowed people to do so only pissed me off more with the man I was supposed to call my father.

The sad truth was, he was ashamed of it. Of her, until she couldn't handle it anymore. He doesn't speak about it unless it's brought up and everyone including him only seems to cry crocodile tears and speak every so kindly about her to "comfort" us during the sad times.

"I think it's best if I get you something to drink, would you like to come along?" Her husband asks, he was definitely in his late thirties. Though the stress seemed of being married to a fake b***h must have gotten to him because of the silver hairs slowly spreading across his thick black strands.

I follow the attractive man over to the large table away from people including his wife's and my father's sight, I begin to pour myself a glass when I feel him pressed against me.

"Is there something you need?" I place the glass down and feel his hands fall to my waist.

I can't help but curse my body for reacting so quickly.

"Who I need is right in front of me" He pushes my hair behind my back. "What I want is under this dress" He dips his head in my neck, moving his hand to the material of the thin dress. His index finger slowly glides down the valley of my breast.

"You have a wife" I close my eyes trying to convince my body that this is wrong, though my mind was completely hell bent that this was. My body hadn't cared if this man could had potentially had a child.

"As if you care, you're just another c**k hungry w***e. Like mother like daughter, no?" And for one of the few times in my life, my body and my mind had the same idea and that was to completely ignore the fact I was soaking wet and not because of him but because of touch.

The sound of a loud groan erupted in my ear when my heel slammed in his foot.

Anger clouded my mind and my eyes as I left the pathetic man to wallow in pain and I found father speaking to grandma, she nodded in agreement at what ever he had said when they came over to me.

"We should go home now, we have many things to discuss" Everything about this seemed weird, a gut feeling telling me that my birthday was going end in yet another shitty night.

I follow them into our limousine as we arrive at our luxurious mansion. Father the first to turn around as Grandma sits on the chair next to him.

"What is this about?" I speak first as I close the door behind me.

"Go on tell her Morgan, she deserves to know before tomorrow" Grandma says placing the small, brown book on her lap.

"You are eighteen now Honey, chances have been given to you to prove that you aren't falling into her ways. And yet again you have failed" He removes a photo from the table besides him.

Showing it to me, it's a photo of me sneaking from his business partners house. "How"-

"See Morgan, the first words coming out of her mouth is how did they get this. This place will be perfect for her" I send a glare straight towards Grandma and she only looks to my father.

"What place?" I let the photo fall from my hands onto the floor when he sighs.

"Your Grandmother and I have made the decision to send you to Hartford Academy. You are of age and this place will help you continue to focus on your studies"-

"And teach you to ask God for forgiveness of your unspeakable sins" She finishes his words.

"I'm not"-

Conversations in this house always called for your words being cut off.

"Don't even protest because this isn't up for discussion. It's already been planned and your bags have already been packed."

"This isn't f*****g fair, you can't just up and send me across the world" I felt my body grow with irritation.

They were so set on sending me off almost as if they waited for me to f**k up.

He was sending me to hell, Hartford was a prestigious boarding school and the top university in the world. It was also known for its religious studies. It had been the same one mother was sent to, the same school I blame for ruining her life.

"Why not? You're proving to be just like her, Hartford helped her and it'll help you. You'll continue your English and Art Majors there, as well as finding your way back to God" Grandma replies right back.

"Helped? Helped her? Because of that school she's dead" I bite back any emotions wanting to seep into my heart that want to cause tears to brim my eyes.

"Honey"-

"Do not speak on my daughter when you knew nothing about her" She stands now.

"You don't even speak about her, and if you so it's to slut shame her" I throw my hands up on frustration.

"One thing I do know, is that other than being a terrible mother. You're the same reason why she couldn't even remember my f*****g name" She places a hand on her chest, shocked by my words.

"That is enough Honey. This conversation is over, your flight leaves in the morning" I watch as he walks up the white stair case and the sound of his study door slams shut.

Grandma stares at me with daggers and anger apparent in her eyes.

"Even if she could remember you, she would be disappointed in what you've become because you've turned out to be just like her."

"Maybe in Hartford you won't be so disrespectful, something the two of you seem to have in common" she grabs her stuff and shuts the door.

Grandma was always a religious woman, and when she had found out her daughter had the "devils curse" as she calls it. She sent her straight to Hartford.

I was always left in the dark about her time spent there, I still remember her warm embrace as a small child. But I also remember the constant hospital visits and late night as well. Most would say if you truly wanted to remember what she looked like, look in the mirror.

I was a spitting image of her.

From the soft tanned skin, the raven black hair that cascades down to my ass with its natural waves. The different colored irises, one that matched the afternoon sun shining through a glass of whiskey to the ocean strong ones swimming in the deeps depths of a ocean view under the moonlight.

The curves of my body from my waist to my perfect breast to my toned abdomen and the ink reading honey on the left side of my boob to the rose on my finger and the one on my wrist. Perfect lips some would even say had a taste for everything I couldn't have.

My looks were more of the reason people could not help but compare me to her all of my life.

Hearing my family whisper words on how shameful it was to have hyper sexuality and that it was enough to allow God to turn his back away from us. The many times before I was even diagnosed they sent me to therapy or took me to church to cast the bad out of me and seemed distraught that they had failed when I had my first diagnosis.

I was always told to blame her for my ways, I had done things that would make even the deadliest sinner turn from me and not because I wanted to but because the smallest touch whether it was s****l or not could have my body burning with desire at anytime.

Well then, Happy Birthday to me.