She was pretty but nothing special. Her true talent was manipulating people. Sara would strike the fear of God into them, shrieking like an insane har...y until you felt your ears where literally going to bleed. She almost always got her way and no one questioned her. I was just grateful the principle was one of the few who wasn't afraid of her. My hell started from that day on: in every class I attended, the harpy witch was there. She was there spreading her lies. Breaking beakers in the chem. He still had a hard time accepting that it was real.He thought about her response during the day that followed what could only be called a night of torrid lovemaking. Everything about it had been precious. She had welcomed him, bare, into her inner depths ... had wailed her joy as he fountained in her. That alone was a precious gift for any woman to give her lover.His reverie was broken as he suddenly wondered if she was protected. He hoped so. The last thing he needed to do was complicate her. More

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