And finally, the nights spent in front of the mirror with Courtney, getting ready for a night out and talking about boys. The door opened abruptly and snapped me away from my thoughts. “What’s taking so long?” Conch asked.His dick was now hard and pointing upward. He paced behind me and I could feel him staring at my ass. He came up behind me and smelled my hair - in a way that came across more creepy than sexy. His dick and body pressed against the back of mine as his eyes traced the reflection of my curves in the mirror. “You see, you coke whores are easy to figure out. This city gets a new shipment of them yearly. They have the bodies, the hair, the ass, the attitude. But they never seem to have the money.”His hands had now reached around and were fondling my tits. “But twenty-two-year-old tits are better than twenty-eight-year-old tits.”“I’m twenty-six,” I interrupted.“Well your face looks thirty-three. The party scene of West Palm will do that though. Don’t be. I kept roaring until my throat could not pass a sound. I kept roaring until I collapsed.I slid down to the floor, folding into a fetal position and kept sobbing.I heard a sound — Tracy was at the bedroom door sobbing."Daddy, take another tranquilizer, please."I pushed her away. I could not face her or anyone else.I remained alone in my room, folded on the floor, sobbing myself to sleep. I don't know how long I slept. I do know that I only used the bathroom and apart from that I did not leave my room, just lying on the floor and sobbing every minute that I was awake. From time to time I noticed Tracy at the door; she came in, hugged me, sobbed with me, told me that she loved me and then disappeared.After three days I calmed down a little. I came out of the bedroom and entered the family room — where my brother Tim was watching TV. I have to explain here — my brother used to be good at sports in high school and the two years he attended college. He never finished his studies. He lived.
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