"Uh, Susan, you're still here, right?" I'm here," she said in a strained voice."OK, what I got out of all this is that you were, well, a lady of the e...ening and—" I was a hooker," she said roughly. "A whore. Don't pretty it up." ... You know, my dad used to have a saying about that kind of thing," I mused. "He said it was OK to call a spade a spade when you had to, but that didn't mean you needed to call it a fucking shovel. I'm not trying to pretty it up, but why make it sound like you were. She also took me to a couplethrift shops, to get me some appropriate outerwear. Soon I was spendinglots of time in short filmy negligees, a variety of stockings, and elbow-length gloves made of fishnet material. I had to modify my body languageto go along with my feminized speech and fashions. In the thrift shopsshe found sleeveless tops and skintight leggings. There were two gaudyvests, some junk jewelry, and a pair of ugly sandals with thick corksoles. All that was just from the initial. (Mom knew I dressed as a girl of course but I usually keep it to a minimum when she is around.) About an hour later I heard the doorbell ring and looking thru the peephole I saw it was Ricky again. He apologized for his hasty exit, making up some silly excuse as to why he had to leave so quickly, and asked if I wanted to hang out together. I said sure and within just a few minutes we were making out again. This time he was more patient and I spent a good 20 minutes sucking his cock and. She even knew that her fosterling had visited me on a fairly regular basis since we’d been formally introduced. “Rebecca.” I said, note the full stop.Dulcie just raised an eyebrow and waited for me to continue.“She’s been on my mind since I found her,” I went on. “Her face, that is. But I found a song that made me think.” I explained.Dulcie laughed. “Did you know none of the Monkees could play an instrument* when they started? They were just a set-up for a t/v series. But the music really.