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She said she hoped she never ran into any men who were as rotten as those guys." Wow. I had heard it was about some pretty lovable characters." Well. I thought it was! I still think so! --I guess who's lovable and who's not lies in the eye of the beholder." I'm still going to try and see it," Annette said."Hey -- do you have a DVD player?" Well. My folks do," she said. "I still live at home, between semesters at State." Y'know -- if I forgot to load your ice cream again sometime, I could bring it over -- and bring the movie along, too." I work every week night," she said, "including Friday."When the Carlton Creamery brought by several cartons of ice cream on Friday, I filled out waybills for all the Columbus and Dayton destinations, but told the delivery guy that he needn't pay for the three destined for Marty's Ice Cream Parlor in Newark. "I know those people," I explained. "I'm going over there tonight, and I'll deliver their ice cream for free. Tell your boss to credit Marty. .. Chris put his key in the door and unlocked it. It swung open into a dark hallway with wooden floors, and he said "Ladies first," indicating for me to go inside. I was so nervous, if he found out I would be done for. My stilettos tapped on the wood floor, and I bent down to unbuckle and remove them. Chris squeezed my ass under my dress, dangerously close to my 'parts' lay beneath my white tights. "Come on," he said, and took my hand to lead me up the stairs, and into his bedroom. It was very masculine, there were posters of famous footballers and sexy women on the walls, and I noticed he had a huge pile of weights in the corner. No wonder he's so fit, I found myself thinking. I sat on the bed, unable to say anything because I was so nervous. I really wanted to kiss him, but I couldn't let him find out who I was. He sat next to me and brushed my hair out of my face again, seemingly his trademark move. He put his arms around my waist and pulled me in tight for a kiss. We were.
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He had slept for three hours and I had waited there for him the whole time. I was helpless. He smiled, seeing me still there. He called me a good boy. He would always call me a boy. I wasn't, and I’m still not, but his invalidation of my very core identity would always send a shiver through me.He told me to have shower, to clean up as we were going back to his place. He told me he was having friends over and he had a special job for me. Maybe the gist of it was obvious, but the possibilities terrified me, but also excited me. As I washed myself I couldn't help but find my fingers drifting down to my pussy, coming up against my clit. But then I remembered, he had ordered me not to touch myself without his direct permission. Back then I was so faithful and dedicated I just wouldn't disobey him, no matter how much I wanted to come. I cleaned and dried myself, put on a plain tee and jeans and he drove us to his house. He told me to wait in his room and I dutifully did so. He was gone for.

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