The image of a "young me" screwing my son in the heat of passion.By the time I reached my son's bedroom door I was breathing harder than I normally wo...ld have from the climb. I pressed an ear to his door and listened.I could hear muffled voices, first a female voice then a deeper male voice. I couldn't understand what they were saying but when I heard a muffled female moan of pleasure I knew that Jennifer was enjoying my son's efforts.I knew that I should have waited till later but I gently. A thousand fan girls dressed like Jenna lined up in front of the Jerry Cramerstin Ballroom where the concert would take place—yes the Flaming Llamas were playing in a ‘Ballroom.’ She had to stand on her tiptoes if she wanted to catch a glimpse of the band but Sara had flat-feet and standing on her toes were not good for her feet, so her podiatrist never said but Sara knew. Her lazy feet never lied! ‘Yo.’ ‘Hey Jen.’ Jenna wore a blood-red dress with knee high black boots and had a cigarette. I would wake up screaming, which pissed off my cellmate when I had one, and then I'd try to not go back to sleep again. They weren't entirely new; but they were like the subconscious negative culmination of all I had endured or enjoyed in my sexual history. I understood now in an instant and ghastly revelation that these dreams, which had become a gothic reality already in my early visits to Margaret, might very well have been but a prelude, a mild taste of what was to come.Once or twice, in. Instead she asks another question. A new question."But honestly, how would it work? How would you keep my job from finding out?"You have to think of a quick answer. Easy. "I wouldn't. Your purpose as a whore will not be hidden from the world. A video will be posted online, almost immediately, of you declaring your new self to the world. If your boss finds out, you will do what's necessary to keep your job. You will lick his balls, you will suck his cock, you will eat his asshole, you will.