There was one area Isaacs insisted he be allowed to organize the fixing up of. That was the dental work I needed, because of my shattered mouth. My go...ernment insurance never covered dental work, false teeth and so on. Isaacs arranged for me to see a dentist, who was part of a small group that did work for people who lacked funds, especially crime victims.I also got several pieces of identification restored to me, though Isaacs never told me he was initiating action in that department. Better. Questions bounced around in my head."Mom, will I be a prostitute when I grow up?" Oh shit, Jen, I hope not. But you must never tell this to anyone in the world, not ever."Truth be told, I wasn't so sure that she spoke honestly when she said that she didn't want me to grow up to be a prostitute, nor did I completely reject the idea of following in her footsteps.Yet I never told that story to anyone, not ever. Except not until the moment that I posted this story. But so what? You don't know if my. I know this is sounding a bit romance novelish, but the fact is I knew that I was putty in this man's hands; and he was about to shape me in ways that would change me completely.He was walking me backward as he kissed me, and my hands were all over him! I was feeling his neck, shoulders, arms, back, butt...and feeling his strong hands on me as he did his own exploring. Byron has a strong, powerful body - one of those short, stocky men that look like they could lift a car - but I was still. I became wet, imagining unbuttoning her vest and taking off her shirt. The lust was unbearable.She payed for the cab and invited me inside. Her apartment was warm and cozy and I felt really glad to be there. She came, with two glasses of red wine, and proposed a toast. "To this night," she said. I smiled. There was some good music playing, from her laptop, and the wine made her lips red and even more desirable. We were getting pretty drunk and she started dancing. It was a slow, seductive song.