Looking back, I don't how Tony and me ever became friends. Even as a kid, he was the opposite of me: loud, brash and arrogant, full of his own importance, lacking any intelligence or personality. He got by on three things: his good looks, his dad's money, and his big dick. He never shut up about either. 'I'm deciding whether I wanna follow in my dad's footsteps, be a model or a porn star', he would say to me, agonizing over this choice. What the hell was I deciding between? I'd been kicked out of the house at 16, was ugly as sin and didn't dare look between my legs at what was there. My dad was hung like a moth. I'm 5' 7'' to Tony's 6' 3''. Do the math. Tony was a jerk but nobody ever said. We'd been friends since the age of 5 and this continued throughout our adolescence. I was the butt of his jokes and the fall guy who always took the blame for his stupid mistakes. I was the one who had to stand watch as he took girls to his car, and then have to console them a few days later once he'd tossed them aside. I thought we were equals. I was wrong. I was his assistant.