Using the other hand, I brought the lip of the bottle in to position just above her clit, and tipped it the smallest of amounts. A single drop of purple liquid fell down, on to her clit, quickly coating it and disappearing, absorbed in to the skin. Next, taking care not to use too much, I dipped my little finger into the tincture, bringing it out with another drop. I very gently inserted the tip into her pussy, curled it upwards, and stroked along her g-spot. There was a small, barely audible moan and I froze, unsure whether to take this rather ambiguous sound as that of pleasure or discomfort… eventually, however, she settled back down into her sleep and I relaxed. Finally, I undid her top-most buttons, pulled her bra downwards, and, trying not to look too much (I was saving her breasts for later and was very aware that time was running out) applied a drop to each. Disposing of the bottle, I watched the result of my handiwork. At first nothing seemed to happen, and I cursed my. She always felt dirty after seeing him, although he never touched her or right-out harassed her. This morning, though, two days after her mother’s cremation, he’d called her over to his office, closing the door behind her. He sat down at his desk and watched her as she stood waiting, his fat lips pouting under his gray, motley moustache.“I hear your mother died,” he said. “My belated condolences, I’m sorry I couldn’t be at the funeral.” She just stared at him. He’d been on one of his numerous ‘vacations.’ “You see,” he went on, “your mother and I go way back, did she ever tell you? Same schools and all. Not that she gave me the light of day; I guess she was too po-pu-lar for that.” He stretched the word sarcastically. “She was a real little cock tease back then, you know,” he proceeded, “a little whore who did it with all the jocks. No wonder she never knew who knocked her up.” Lilian felt a flash of rage choke her.“I ... I don’t think,” she began, but he came from behind his desk.
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