I wondered about it for the first several years but then later, figured it out on my own. It was both shame on the part of some of the men folk and an...er or envy from the women. Miss Rose didn’t seem to mind but she was always very quiet on the way back from those trips. On my sixteenth birthday, Miss Rose called me into her room. I had never been there before, even for a visit. It was a Sunday and the bordello was closed to business. I went with my heart in my mouth, fearing that I had done. I didnt know what he had planned but really didnt care if I came as hard as I did the first time he fucked me. I do anything to cum that hard again, anything! Brent pulled in and I got out of the car. As I shut the car door he walked over and kissed me and shoved his hand up my skirt. I gasped at the sudden hand rubbing my pussy and working the toys in and out, I had almost forgot we were outside and people would soon be coming out to go to work. Suddenly he grabbed my nipple and pulled me to. I wondered to myself, was this here? It can't be, right?I glanced across the table again and yes, bleach blonde hair, cut very short, the milky white smooth skin, it was her. Now, did she recognize me? There was no way she could have recognize me, I mean, I'm just a regular guy, nothing that makes me stand out. Then she stared right at me. Her eyes making long direct contact with mine. Shit, she knows. I quickly drop my pen on the ground to break up the contact. I get down on my knees and reach. Two weeks in, and he was starting to get sick of squirrel "literature". To start with, he had never been that into religion. Oh, sure, church, Jesus, God, all that. He believed. He had never actually read the books Jesus wrote, though, leaving that to his Mom and others. It wasn't like it had mattered, and quite frankly he preferred fiction. Thus, the ... quality of the religious texts before him, the style of arguments, were totally unfamiliar. They made his brain hurt. Melinda, bless her,.