Brenda hardly talked to me anymore. She followed Johnaround like a schoolgirl meeting a teen idol. I wasgetting by on the idea that he might leave. Or...that Imight kill him first. Thursday night, we were sitting in the living room,John flipping lazily through channels. He wore one ofmy robes, though it fit him poorly, and his bare feetwere up on the footrest. He kept complaining that theywere sore.“I don’t know what I fucking did, man.” He belched.“They’ve just hurt. His back was to the drivers door. I reached for my bra and I noticed a bulge in his khaki pants. When he noticed me looking, he put his hands over it. I looked up at his face with a puzzled look and for the first time, I saw him blush. I pulled my hair back with on hand, and laid the other on his bulge. It felt so hard. I bit my bottom lip and looked him in the eyes as my hands moved to his belt. I pulled the belt through the buckle slowly, waiting on him to stop me. Would you believe, he just. More

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