Charlie married a little blonde hair-dresser and moved to Portland. Brenda was sad about that at first, but she had Ken and in a month or two she forgot about Charlie.What difference did Charlie make? No man could give her what she was getting from Ken.The boy kept her pussy on fire. He was always ready to fuck or suck or do anything she wanted.Sometimes she thought the constant sexual excitement was no good for her health. She discreetly asked her doctor about it, but he said it was probably good for her. He even hinted he wouldn't mind throwing her a fuck right there in the office. She said nothing to him about Ken, of course. She decided to turn the doctor down, but then she compromised and jerked him off into the wastebasket in his office. He seemed happy. He dropped her bill in half and patted her ass as she walked out.When Ken's birthday approached, Brenda convinced him to have a party in the house."You're only young once," she said. "Besides, it'll give me a chance to meet all. With the anger came the contents of my stomach, fortunately just a glass of wine and some nosh. Finger foods for polite, if strained, conversation. ‘You knew better,’ I scolded myself, lifting my bloodshot eyes to the mirror as I spat into the sink. Every fiber of my being had told me not to go there, that naught good could come of it. I did it anyway—because he wanted it and I wanted to please him. Simple, really. The reason why he wanted it was not lost on me, though. It added to my anger. Packing wouldn’t have taken nearly as long if not interrupted several times by dry heaves. I saw his eyes as I squeezed my own closed. Not the eyes I cherished—the ones that studied me with a mixture of amazement and adoration—but the placating, angst-filled eyes. The pleading eyes. I never wanted to see those eyes again. I heard his voice as I ran the tap water to wash my face. Not the voice I cherished—the one that promised me all his tomorrows—but the appeasing, soothing voice. The ass-kissing.
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