Harry Landers had always been proud of his years in the shipyard. The long hours had supported his obsessive wife and two sons through the family year... with a sufficient income to afford the necessities with ease. He had watched his boys turn into men and disappear over the horizon towards their destiny as his wife became increasingly frigid and antisocial. One morning in one of her frequent bursts of rage, her overtaxed heart burst, leaving him to weather his final years alone and lonely. He. She squirmed slightly in her seat, her cheeks pink with both desire and embarrassment. He pressed his stubbly cheek against hers before hissing in her ear in a low voice, “How does this make you feel, girl? How does it feel to be someone’s whore in a place of worship? To be… dripping on the very seat that people sit on to pray to their God?” Her eyes fluttered open to look up at him, his hands still moving between her legs. She replied to him in a breathy and hushed tone “So…good, Sir.” His. More

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