The internal conflict, the torment, all of it became too much. I beganto cry. I needed to cry, it felt natural and I hated myself for it. Iwent back t... my room and laid face down in bed. The tears kept comingand as each one left my eyes I felt a little more self-spite."Steph, honey, are you okay?" I heard Mrs. Taylor say from outside thedoor."No," I sniffled.I wanted to confide in her, to tell her everything. I thought of herlike a mother, like she could make everything better. I hated. I found her cunthole and pushed my thumb in. She clamped her legs shut, effectively trapping me in her. My forefinger was right at the other side so I tickled her stiff clit with it. She sighed softly into the phone and her legs parted slowly. I replaced my thumb with a finger and when she was slippery enough, added another. She rocked back and forth, getting wetter and wetter. I was surprised at how calm her voice was as she came, her juices running down my fingers. I knelt behind her and. More

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