She was hoping for a girl and was disappointed that I turned out to be a boy."Why couldn't you have been a girl?" she'd ask. "I don't like boys. They'...e too rough and aggressive. I should have put you up for adoption the day you were born." Then she'd become cold and distant. She'd threaten to abandon me or put me in an orphanage if I turned out to be like my father. I was terrified. Mother was all I had and I needed her love and approval. So I tried hard to please her -- and what pleased her. "Take you to dinner?"He asked."Yes, that sounds good."He made no pass at her that night, but she caught him studying her intently several times.The following Friday afternoon Brad smiled as he said, "Say, how would you like to spend tomorrow at my place? I have a large pool." Is that asking me on a date, Brad Johnson?" Something like that."It was a pleasant afternoon. Karen, who was a diver in high school, did a few easy dives off the one-meter board. Brad clapped when she did a full. “Ouch! Not so hard, Josh!” Then her voice softened. “Be tender with them.” He began to massage her breast. “Fair is fair, Josh. Let me run my hand over your crotch.” He stiffened as she grasped his growing bulge with her hand and squeezed it. He groaned. “Use your other hand. Take both my breasts in your hands and squeeze them,” she suggested. Josh obeyed. They didn’t say a word. All that could be heard was their breathing. “Okay Josh,” Tammy said after another minute. “That’s enough for now. I. “Me? Are you kidding me?”“That’s right, professor,” I said, swaying my head tauntingly at her.She bit her lip and gave me the finger. I leaned to her and tried to bite it. She laughed, yanking it away, before touching my thigh rather affectionately.This was a few hours before she OD’d.She was a friend of mine, separated by a couple of decades, but with a mutual love of bars and good times in lower Manhattan. We met through friends and kept in touch through texting and Facebooking. She took the.
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