"Ah," he smiled, "some birthday suits for the birthday boy. Nice. Want some wine?"I said yes, and we drank a glass while discussing the photo styles. ...hen we drank some more while he showed me some of his work. His commercial work was fabulous, and then he showed me some personal model shots and portfolio prints. They were stunning works in craftmanship, and there were some beautiful photos of women in all kinds of nude poses. "Oh my God," I blushed as we drank more wine. I was getting a heavy. (I refused to use my mother’s maiden name until the divorce became final in hopes that they would have reconciliation. They never did.)I was no longer bed-ridden, but walking around, even venturing outside for short walks (encouraged by my doctors) in the park, wearing a sweater even on the warmest spring days.There were visitors too. Becky stopped by at least once a week. When left alone by my mother, we kissed a little and I fingered her to a fairly rapid orgasm. There were sultry promises of. More

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