The man, like his voice on the telephone, contradicted his Germanic-sounding name that induced visions of a Freud-like older man. No, the good doctor ...was thirty-something and looked more like the neighborhood Little League coach than a psychiatrist.We shook hands and Dr. Mendelssohn mouthed the usual clichés about at last putting a face with the name, etc. etc.I wondered if I looked more like a left fielder than he looked like a psychiatrist. Probably."I think I am going to give myself a couple. "Nope." She cleared her throat. "You, uh, maybe want togo out to eat sometime? I know this place not too far from here that's gotgreat burgers." "What time do you get off work?" "What, uh, today? Um, five." "I'll pick you up." He grabbed his bag of groceriesand the receipt out of her hand. "Um, but . . ." She looked down at what she waswearing. She thought the smock was hideous; she could only imagine what thecute Mercedes owner must think of it. She looked back up to ask if maybe shehad time. Don’t be spoiled. You lose ONE HOUR of your life and all you have to do is lay down.”?My father put a hand on her knee and I just sat there stunned.I simply looked back at me and stated, “It starts tomorrow.”___________________As I got home from school I felt like I could hardly breathe. Sophia and Jacob asked to come over but I fed them the line my parents told me about being behind on school work and went inside. The clock in the kitchen ticked as I did my homework. It was so hard to focus.. I timidly reached up for the zipper that was on Bruce pants, Bruce took his left hand and cupped the back of my head with it. Bruce took his other hand and undid his belt and loosened his pants. 'There bitch, I made it easier for you, fish my dick out and start sucking on it. I was shakeing so violently, from rage, I quickly reached into his underwear and retrieved his hardening cock. Bruce pulled my head to his musty crotch, his cock twitching as my face got closer to his man hood. I parted.
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