“How old were you the first time?” Melissa asked.“Fourteen.”“Holy cow! And the girl?”I smiled, “Woman. She was twenty-three.”“Mrs. R...binson?”“She was widowed. And from there, well, just assume I lived out every heterosexual man’s fantasy for the next eighteen years.”“And I was going to be another notch in your bedpost?”I shook my head, “I never, ever looked at it that way. I only know the number because someone who reads my journals counted them.”“Wait! You would have written about us in your. The bedroom door opened and in walked my first and only patient. "Mrs. Peterson," I said with a smile, "Please take a seat. How may I help you?"After a little hesitation, Mom walked into my bedroom and my jaw hit the floor. She had definitely dressed to impress and I thought my eyeballs were going to pop out of my skull. She had squeezed her voluptuous frame into a low cut black leather one-piece number that barely reached to mid-thigh and which I sort of remembered from back in the day when. More

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