“I know, but work is what I need,” she demanded.“Okay then,” I said then picked up the phone. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but I agree... to listen.“Mac, where and when do we meet?” I asked.“Meet me at the University Club on Carolina Ave for lunch at noon,” he demanded. “Bring all your work equipment.”“I turned all that shit in after the last job,” I said.“Okay then, make me a list of what you need to operate independently,” He said.“Fair enough,” I said ending the connection.That night. I have many stories about delicious sex scenes and gorgeous ladies. But this is a little different. I put on a show for my clients, and in reality don't expose much in the way of emotion. I have seen it all, tasted it all, and fucked it all.Yet Betty-Lou was different!You guessed it. She was indeed a client. One that I had found drowning her sorrows in alcohol at a small pub late one night. Usually I only proposition the older, obviously wealthier woman. But this lady looked down and was very. It had been so long since I'd felt like one, it didn't really matter. All I was now was whatever my stepdaughter wanted me to be."She's getting better, but she still makes mistakes," she continued. "Just last weekend, for example, she fell asleep while I had her servicing a few of my friends. I had to punish her for embarrassing me."A few friends, hell, I thought to myself, not missing a beat with my tongue. Twenty-six couples, and before I even got to the first woman, I had to take each of. The outfit was exactly the look that she wanted but with the knowledge that what was underneath should have the desired effect. She had ordered the taxi for 10.15, she wanted to be sure she wasn’t late, she had read what could happen for disobedience, and knew that she could grab a coffee if she was early. The taxi driver couldn’t take his eyes off her as she walked down the front garden path and tried to find out about her day, but she fobbed him off with “I’m just meeting a friend”..