Her nails dug into my thighs until I slapped herhands away. She glared at me.‘Bastard,’ she spat out, coiled like a snake under myhand.It was always like this with her, always the defiance,even while she conveniently forgot that she was payingme good money to make her feel like an utter whore. Shepretended to be livid with the injustice. She pretended tohate me. She pretended that she was above me, so high ona pedestal that even if she spat in my direction, the windwould carry it too far to hit me. Pretending like that wasfine, if that was what she needed, but I wouldn’t put upwith it much longer, and she knew it. She could push, but Icould push harder.I yanked her hair again. She gritted her teeth and hereyes sparkled. She was on the verge of playing Little MissWounded. Her games were becoming old hat to me bynow. I was getting tired of them, but I wasn’t tired of themoney. More than that, I was getting interested in a verynon-sexual sort of way. I knew I could break her. Shewanted. Chris was slightly taller than me with a skinny build and fair skin. We were on the same bus ride home and quickly became best friends. Chris had slightly long blond hair, and light blue eyes hidden under his thick rimmed glasses that rested on high cheek bones spotted with freckles the sun had made more noticeable. We did just about everything together: slept over each others houses, built forts in the woods, went fishing, and we shared all our secrets with each other. It was early August and the weather in Massachusetts was perfect for two young boys to be out riding bikes and enjoying their summer vacation. We spent the day at the pond swimming and fishing. It was a couple hours before dinner and the sun was still out as we left the beach heading home. Along the way we were talking about the things that happened at the pond when out of nowhere Chris asked me "Jonny has your dick ever gotten hard?" I thought it was a strange question, stranger still it turned me on a lot when he.
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