"She smiled, gave me a pat on the cheek, and walked away from me. Later that night, as she and my son were leaving, Becky kissed me on the cheek and w...ispered in my ear:"Soon baby, and it will be worth the wait - I promise."I did not sleep that night; I tossed and turned as images of Becky moved in and out of my subconscious. If she called I would go to her regardless of the consequences to my marriage, or hers. I knew it wasn't right, but I knew that I couldn't stop myself.The call didn't come. All my weight was in my tits, which was my basic attraction to boys and men, with the occasional woman thrown into the mix.My ass, also not bad, snuggled comfortably on the seat cushion in front of my keyboard. Clad only in bra and panties, my long, thin fingers rested upon a-s-d-f and j-k-l-;. The nails were gaudy, whorish red, shaped to deliver painful rakes down the back of any man who might anger me. Or who might prefer it.The first words of this story were already in my head: I'm a whore.. Wo akad ke boli kitne paise hue ye lo card debit kar lo . Me deko miss ye card kya mai tumhare machine me dalu give me cash . Wo boli mere pass cash nhi hai please ap man jao main bas aise hi gussa kar rahi thi ki ap dar jao. Achanak aisa badlaw dekhkar main hairan tha magar itna smajh gya tha ye ab hanth me aa gyi hai maine kaha paise to dene padenge ya to apni jawani se debit kara do miss.Wo gusse me kya bak rahe ho .Maine kaha chup yahin chod kar phenk dunga koi aayega bhi nhi puchne wala. The more she thought, the more she wanted another drink. The rest of the evening was hazy at best. Only small snatches of conversation stuck out in her mind. ‘Julia! I’m making my signature cocktail, come have one,’ she remembered the senior staff writer calling to her. She had quickly finished her drink to try his mystery concoction. ‘Who’s up for a game of quarters?’ one of the young photographers had shouted. ‘Julia? You in?’ She had agreed. From then on all she had was flashes of memory:.