I convinced myself my attraction to other women had just been a phase, the foolishness of youth. I was grown up now, a woman about to marry an amazing...man, and I cast aside girlish things. We planned the wedding and the honeymoon and the post honeymoon. Marcus wanted to start a family as soon as possible, and I wanted nothing more than to please him, to take his seed and let his children grow in my womb, big strong boys in his image. We agreed I should give up work; after all, I’d be too busy. And then, inanely, disgustingly, I chickened out."You'd have to ask him that question, I think."The young man grinned condescendingly. If Richard objected, that grin told me, which I simultaneously did and did not want, the young man would ask him outside to discuss the situation further. Richard, forced to defend his manhood, would blusteringly agree, only to get his butt kicked in the falling snow. Or so I thought.Richard said softly: "I have no objection to anyone dancing. I do have. I'm a whore, a prostitute. I am what I am and it's not so much what others say. No, I don't need to pose on the internet. And no, I don't need creeps jerking off to my pics and writing me lust letters.I have a life, a sorta fucked up life. So my therapist says that I should freely express myself about how I feel and how I live.She tells me to write it all down and sort it out later. Here goes. I'll tell you about each of my clients, one at a time. Part Two - My Boys - ROBBIEWilliam Robert. They said that all the women went shopping and would not be back till this afternoon but I was welcome to stay and keep them company. I decided to stay, to be nice. The men were drinking and gave a glass full. We started to talk and they were flirting and I flirted right back. Some how we got to talking about sex, strangest place, position, stuff like that. It was making all of us horny. Then we went to truth or dare and they had me flash my tities and then my pussy. And I had them flash.