Perhaps you cared who she was, more probably you didn't. Did you look at her face while you thrust into her body, or did you take her from behind? - T...e reason I ask is that the prostitute could have been my wife or, if it were a few years ago, even my mother.Yes, that's right, my mother was a hooker most of her life. She worked in a whore house (or as we used to call them in those days - a house of ill repute!) in the red light district of a large city. She had me when she was only s*******n. I walked over to the blouse. God it was fabulous. I carefully picked itup and slid my hand into the sleeve. The material caressed my back as Ibrought around the sleeve to my other arm. Starting from the bottom, Idid up the little silk buttons, stopping at 2 before the collar, makingmy bra visible beneath.I thought to walk effeminately to the bathroom where I could see myselfin the big mirror on the wall. My heart skipped a beat when I saw thereflection. It wasn't exactly the desirable office. In the bedroom, on the desk, they were engaged; one, the lady, half sitting on the edge, naked but for a pair of socks half on her feet, the rest of her clothes crumpled on the floor or hanging from the tip of her toes. She was beautiful, with coal black hair, her chubby-ish face touched up with a hint of makeup. Her face was scrunched up as if in pain, her eyes closed and her lips quivering, but from the moans she made and the motions she moved in it was plain to see that she was, simply put,. I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine:There sleeps Titania sometime of the night,Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight;And there the snake throws her enamell'd skin, Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy inWILLIAM SHAKESPEARE"A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM"The unassuming village of Brea was a quaint little village that laywithin the Shire of.