Lessons in Sin

by Pam Godwin

they’re all I have here. I’ll be devastated when they move on. But I’ll also be proud and blissfully happy. I only want the best for them.” She smiled to herself. “Animals are better than people.” “How so?” “They don’t judge. They don’t hate. If humans had hearts like opossums, what a beautiful world this would be.” If people had hearts like Tinsley Constantine, my faith in humanity would be renewed. For the next few hours, I led her through her lessons. She took some exams, went to lunch, and sat through my afternoon classes. Then she finished her day with the punishment she’d earned for being late this morning. Scrubbing floors wasn’t teaching her a damn thing. But I made no allowances. If she broke a rule, she paid the penalty. I was nothing if not consistent. Thirty minutes into her punishment, she’d worked herself into the far corner. She also had that skirt inched up around her waist again, and this time, I didn’t look away. Bent over on her knees, she gave me a direct view of her heart-shaped bottom in white cotton. The high-cut underwear followed the curves of toned, youthful thighs. The swath of thin material between her legs clung to her flesh, carving an explicit, mouthwatering valley from one virgin hole to the other. I shifted in the chair behind my desk as heat rushed below my belt and tightened between my legs. That damn skirt hadn’t bunched around her waist on its own. I now suspected it hadn’t been the breeze that exposed her this morning, either. She was ...