"Climbing onto the pool table," the article continued, "the mystery stripper proceeded to participate in oral, vaginal, and anal sex with anyone who w...nted it!" Did I really DO that?" Megan asked once more and I nodded yet a third time."No wonder I'm so sore!" she groaned. "Are you mad at me?" Hell, no!" I hugged her. "It was the most erotic night of my life. And by the way, you took very good care of me, too!"Then I remembered and told her about the money! I explained how she had gotten tips. She started by saying do you remember when I first started working at Jilly's ? I said yeah you started as a hostess and you always wore short skirts, your legs looked so good in pantyhose. She said yeah it's a health code all female employees are required to wear hose. I said I bet it helped with tips too. She said all the female servers wore shinny Leggs brand pantyhose and it definitely helps with tips. I asked her what happened ? She said oh yeah I got off topic, well you remember Tim. I. I beg his forgiveness for my sinful thoughts.Lord, why do you torture me—I ask in the lord’s prayer ‘and deliver us not into temptation, deliver us from evil’ it says plainly. Why do I enjoy these dreams?In my little red journal I wrote a lot about sex, a lot about God, and very little about my real life. Real relationships seemed impossible.Everyone knew me as the prim and proper girl who liked learning. Even among the nerd boys, I seemed an off limits alien. At one point, I shared chemistry. How could that not work? That Monday I found myself knocking on Mr Johns's door, a cheap shiraz in one hand, boobs being adjusted inside my low-cut top by the other. He couldn't refuse, he would sympathize, he's human after all, I kept thinking to myself. - Hello, Miss Brookes - he smiled as he let me in. He was a man in his 50s, not a sophisticated one but polite enough every time I'd spoken to him over the phone in the past. - Thanks for having me, Mr Johns - I cooed and immediately.