‘Thank you, you may sit back down. Sara, if you would please,’ Lucielle asks. Her blonde friend stands, drops her robe, and walks over to the mirr...rs. Their host unclasps the brassiere. Once it falls to the floor, Lucielle steps back a couple of paces and utters ‘Oh, my …’. Apparently the sight of the massive and wonderfully shaped pair of mammaries on Sara’s chest has impressed even a ‘professional’. Lucielle repeats her measurement tasks with the blonde, letting her hands linger just a bit. My fist connects his face and he stumbles back, stunned. My knuckles throb and I am furious with him. He touch his face and steps toward me. I take a step back to keep the distance between us but he reaches for my arm and pulls me toward him. He hugs me tight so I won’t be able to hit him again. “Let me go Douglas,” I say with clenched teeth. “I’m sorry,” he says. He is always saying sorry. It’s starting to lose it’s meaning. “Let. Me. Go.” I enunciate each word slowly. “Please,” he. More

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