”I found my way past the kitchen to the rear of her house, only one door was open, my sister’s bedroom. I paused at the jamb “Hey, you in here?�...�“Yeah, come on in.” She was sitting on her bed, her back resting on two of four pillows wearing a thigh length flower printed night gown. Her fingers were laced over the swell of her stomach as if she were feeling the baby. She had pulled her long honey colored hair into a pony tail which fell across her shoulder, the end of it fanned across her left. You should not get angry. You should not stop talking to me.Me: what are you gonna say?M: Something, You should say what you feel.Me: what something?M: Something which i would do when you are alone with me.Me: What? What’s that? What would you do? I will not do anything ok.M: Don’t do anything. I am saying what I am gonna do that’s all.Me: OkM: what are you wearing now?Me: Tees and long skirtwhy?M: Do not ask why for everything. Just answer and feel what I say.Me: OkM: Inside?Me: (Irritated)Why. Looking back on it I always had the option of refusing to allow myself to be used as her personallittle piece of ass. I'm positive that had I refused to be her little whore that we would still be just as close today regardless.The simple fact of the matter was I just couldn't say no. At some point I may have allowed myself to be subservient to herdemands out of my love for her or perhaps out of some misguided allegiance to our friendship. Now doesn't that sound just like a classic whore to pimp. ‘Who knows, boss,’ Julia said, laughing, ‘maybe you’ll get laid.’ So, that was how I had come to be strolling through the gate to the ‘quiet pool’ at the Tuscany Village in Orlando. I had a copy of the third volume of ‘The Last Chronicles of Thomas Covenant’ in one hand and a bottle of sun block in the other. Back home it was cold and gray, but in Orlando the weather was delightful – bright sunshine and 80 degrees. I was content, even though I hadn’t had any sex for three days. Sunlight always.