She didn’t want him to worry about her, didn’t want him to know just how far her self-hatred really went. How deeply rooted in her mind it really ...as. How every time anyone got just a little glimpse of it, they would tell her that she scared them. She couldn’t do that to him…. But she already had…. And she hated herself for that. She had scared him once already, let him see the one mark she had made, the first mark she had made in months. A mark she made because those feelings she tries to hide. But when Dora caught me doing the vacuuming with the skirting board attachment stuck over my dick for later use she yelled at me for not being fully nude. Of course she would take the opportunity to parade around in all kinds of skimpy clothes, bending over front ways so I could see her cleavage and bending over the other way so I could see the ripe curve of her butt. Then one day, just as I was coming out of the bathroom after cleaning it, she appeared in a skimpy towelling robe and pushed. More

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