It hadonly ever been the two of them in the house and he worried about her,felt protective. Finally, after some time, he had gotten out of bed,dresse... and slipped out of the house into the cool night air.He could not explain why, but he had a feeling where she may have goneand followed it as if drawn into the dark woods down the street beyondtheir house.The redwood grove, perhaps 100 trees in all, stood as a monolithicanomaly in an otherwise normal forest and attracted any manner ofinquisitive. I didn’t have to wait long. After fifteen minutes that doorbell rang and I flew to open it. Brad was in his usual t-shirt, board shorts, flip flops look. He was holding a fairly large cardboard box and I assumed that it was heavy. He gave me a tight bear hug and carried the box upstairs. Moments later, he came back down with a sheet of paper and a pen. ‘Read and sign this, if you agree, we can start.’ Start what? The writing on the sheet of paper answered my question. ‘I, Isabelle Chan, am. It was during one of her recital-prep coaching sessions, as she tried to intentionally distract him with tickling touches, and shoulder grabs and loud noises in his ears, that she noticed him fidgeting in his seat more than usual. One look down and she saw just what was making it happen. His eager cock had risen to a well-endowed bulging fullness in his pants, from her soft touches and mere closeness, and no matter what he did, it would not go down.His face was red from his heated blushing, but. No microwave, no toaster oven andonly a rotary dial phone on the wall.The living room wasn't much better off. No cell phones no computersno VCR's or DVD's and only a 15 inch B&W television with rabbit earsto watch a mere three channels along with a large radio and aphonograph that only had a few Sinatra and show-tune musical recordsstacked nearby. I began thinking how rich I could be in a few yearsby loading up on IBM stock, then buying Apple in the 70's thencashing that in to invest in.
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