As my move out date approached, mom was visibly getting depressed. her little boy was growing up and moving out. we would watch movies together, go ou... for dinner and dancing, camping you name it, mom and i were close.as i was packing up the last of my room, i noticed mom standing in the door watching me. i don't know waht im going to do without you here son, im going to be so lonely. dont worry mom im not that far away and we'll see each other every other weekend. i still cant believe your so. Quite predictably, it was a slow, romantic song. I didn't recognize it at all; it was by a male vocalist, sung in Spanish.Inez possessively grabbed my hand, as I led her out onto the dance floor. There was no way she would let anyone else have this dance with me. And there was no way I'd ever give it to anyone else but her.We moved in close and began to sway gently to the music, my arms down around her waist, hers up around my shoulders. The closeness was intoxicating. I tried to make small. He became aware of the overall falling from her hips the big white working bra the magnificent cleavage, his hands running over her smooth knicker clad backside. He swung her until she had her back to the big table pushing her back onto the cloth covered surface her elbows supporting her shoulders her head thrown back as his face buried itself in her crutch, tongue trailing over the thin pink knickers. She groaned loudly as his fingers scrabbled at the waist band. The urgency throwing caution. So where was the negative side?Nowhere. Except that I wasn't in a position to carry my share of the load, economically, and I likely wouldn't be, any time soon. I was going to be a kept man. Just a gigolo. I knew damned well that Emmy wasn't thinking in those terms. It was insulting to her for me, even, to be thinking in those terms.But I was. I guess I was still a charter member of the "You Gotta Have a Dick" school. If you're going to buy the house, and the groceries, and pay the electric.