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I could feel her eyes focused on my face. The women, never moving, went on staring at me for a long time. I sensed her slow, gentle breathing but not ...ear a sound. Eventually, the women reached out and placed her fingertips on my penis, very carefully, as if inspecting some valuable, fragile thing. Then she began to caress it. I didn't know how to react to this, or how I was expected to react. The women said nothing. Aside from the sound of rustling clothes, the room was enveloped in a deep. “Huh?”“I...” Shame burned through me.“I saw it all,” Mom said. “On your hands and knees. Moaning like a whore. Begging to be your little brother's slut.”“My...” I frowned at her. “What, no! Never!”“I thought you were pure, Leyla.” She sat down on the bed, some of her dark hair peeking out of her hijab. “I thought you were my good girl. But you're just a slut.”“I'm not!” I gasped.“I heard you.”I flushed more, remembering the hot, degrading words I said while caught up in the fantasy.“You're a. More

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