Abigail knew what he intended to do with it. She was not entirely ignorant of the ways of men and women, and knew what her husband would expect her to endure. Yet here was Margaret, seemingly eager for what Abigail’s mother had explained was a woman’s painful and humiliating duty. ‘The man’s pleasure is in the act,’ Jane Creighton had explained to her shortly before Abigail left home for Dame Agnes of the Hills. ‘The woman’s joy comes when she fulfills her purpose and holds her newborn babe in her arms.’ Her mother had mentioned nothing of the sensations that held Abigail captive. She had gone on to impress upon her daughter the importance of virginity, and how no good husband would be pleased to travel a road that others had been down. Surely Margaret’s mother must have given her the same counsel, for most of the girls at Dame Agnes of the Hills reported similar lectures and Headmistress Elspeth herself had reaffirmed it. Margaret, therefore, should have been appalled at the. How dare she fuck MY man! How dare he have anything to do with that fucking bimbo! Now I know why he told me not to come up; that I wouldn't like the conditions and rather than subject me to them he would just tough it out. Yeah! Right! Tough it out with that fucking husband stealing skank.But I managed to control myself and I didn't think I gave what I was thinking away. I held it together for the five days I was there and I did my absolute best to fuck Stan senseless to show him that the skank wasn't half the woman that I was. On the flight home I sat in my window seat and stared out the window at the empty sky and thought bad thoughts about the cheating bastard I was married to.Looking back on it now I realize how totally irrational I was. Not once did I think "Get a grip girl! How can you get pissed at him given what you have been doing for most of your married life?" Not once did I relate what I was doing to what he was doing. I was pissed and by God I'd show him! Cheat on me.
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