It was a warm summer night, and the only light came from the flickering candle on the kitchen table. My stepfather had just returned home from work, and I could hear him taking off his shoes in the hallway. As I sat at the table with my book, I felt his presence behind me. He placed a hand on my shoulder and whispered in my ear, I have a secret for you. He led me to the bedroom, where the sheets were already rumpled from our earlier lovemaking. His hands roamed over my body as he began to explain what he had been keeping from me. It turned out that he had been seeing another woman at work, and they had been meeting in secret for months. But as he spoke, his fingers traced patterns on my skin, and I found myself unable to listen to the words coming out of his mouth. tead, I focused on the feel of him ide me, the way our bodies moved together. When we finished making love, he lay beside me for a while, whispering sweet nothings in my ear until I drifted off to sleep. The next morning, when I woke up, my stepfather was already gone. But I could still feel him ide of me, and the memory of our lovemaking lingered long after he had left. From that day forward, we continued to keep our secret hidden, but it only made our love stronger.
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