And Becky somehow knew exactly what I wanted to do. The four of us became good friends and would spend two or three evenings together playing Canasta....The whole time she would torment me by throwing her hair around; running her fingers through it; then give me a look that said, “You’d love to do this, wouldn’t you?”I’d sit there, get a boner, and rub it to pretend that Becky was rubbing it and saying, “Would you like a blowjob, Bill? I’d love to feel your hard cock in my throat.”I had to do. Or should we wait until the morning. You paid by credit card, so they’ll get paid, one way or the other,” Mireya wondered aloud while fondling Jonny’s groin a bit.“Yeah, just wait until the morning, querida. As for jobs, I run my own business now, so I can get you a spot there. Mind you, it’s good to have a back-up plan, such as the webcam and amateur porn stuff. My business is ... well, it’s a travel agency, one that Mom owned, which Dad turned over to me when she died. Damn pills killed her,. Uh...yeah?She was dressed in a housecoat of some sort and her hair was wet from a shower. When she let me into the house, I saw her living room covered in drop cloths with a ladder and scaffold to the cathedral ceiling.She grinned. "Follow me, honey," she said.I went down a hall of pictures of her k**s at various years of their life and past empty bedrooms now used for an office and sewing. At the end was the master bedroom. She turned at the door."Are you sure you want to do this?"I nodded,. She did not mind serving tables. She liked the people she served in her little neighborhood restaurant. Celia had waited on tables there since high school. She would now never consider leaving the place. For years Celia had told herself and any one that would listen that she would leave the job in a second if she could. For fifteen years she could have but she didn’t. She was now glad she had not. She was now a shift supervisor and emergency chef. She loved gong to work. Almost five months.