” “Well,” she said, “that day when the elevator was broken, I saw you at your door. I thought, ‘There’s that nice guy. Wonder if he’d do...me.’” “You really thought that?” “I did. I was a slut.” I laughed aloud. “You were never a slut.” “You just didn’t know. Anyway, you gave me the bourbon the day of the funeral.” “Before and after, if I recall.” “After. And, I thought, ‘Maybe he’s trying to get me drunk so I’ll fuck him.’ But, you weren’t. And then, when you said my name, it really became. He looked up at me and said, what are you doing I shouldn't have to tell you what to do, you should know that when I come over you need to start to work on my cock immediately, I'll forgive you this time but don't let it happen again, now massage my cock. I said Yes Sir, and sat down next to him, he was wearing loose jeans that night, but I could still make out the bulge in his pants, going down his leg, so I started to grab it and massage it for him. It started to get pretty hard and it looked. More

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