"I always thought she wouldn't say 'shit' if she had a mouthful," someone else tossed in.Devi knew what everyone always thought about her. Sweet, timi..., defenseless, a real pushover — but they had no idea the emotions that always boiled beneath the surface or how she'd been trained all her life to control them. Not once, since her earliest childhood, had she given vent to the rage of which she was capable. Not until now.As good as it felt to smash that woman's nose all over her face, Devi still. It makes me grin. I know how I look, luxuriating here on the black bedspread which shows up my too pale skin, the lightly sagging breasts and stretch marks after Janna’s birth. I look like the woman I am, close to middle age, a body that shows signs of life. It does not matter, not with this man, not with this friend. It does not even matter that he had only become more stunning over the years, his physique settling into the definition of manhood, muscles and lines simply asking to be touched.. More

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