"Hello?" I called out.Dr. Crumholtz trudged out, looking like she'd been burdened with serial killers and other misfits all day. Her shoulders slumped...and her eyes were at half-mast and dark. "Oh, its you. Come in." She led me to a small room with just two chairs. One painting, a beach with crystal clear water, adorned the right wall. The left wall had a floor to ceiling drape. Small shelves stuck out from the fancier chair on both sides. One shelf held a telephone, another a leather-covered. Both girls were inside the cabin, smiling and standing with hands clasped in front of their tiny, navy blue mini-dresses. Bob thought Vicky looked nervous; he could see that her cheeks were flushed and her breasts – tightly bound beneath the gold buttons of her uniform – heaved with her rapid breathing. He stopped momentarily to admire the long curves of her legs, propped up on high heels to lend shape to her tight calves and small, round bottom; he could see so much of her long, slim thighs. More

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