It took a minute for our eyes adjust to the darkness. There was a long hallway with doors every five or six feet that led into small rooms. The rooms ...ere about four feet deep by three feet wide. In the back of each booth was a small TV and in the middle of each one there was a single, straight back chair.I had heard about these places. But I had never been in one before. I started down the aisle and looked in a couple of booths to see if they were all the same. They seemed to be.I saw movement. In spite of all the climaxes she had had that day she was feeling excited again. For a moment shame washed over her, but it quickly passed. They were being forced into this situation, otherwise she would have never done what she had with her son. She was a good mother and had always been. This didn't change that.Then she thought about what would happen if they every got out of this situation. Would she be able to continue the relationship or would they just return to mother and son. The thought. .." She was looking at her reflection, seeing the once prim andproper Lady now turned into a wanton tart. Her breasts were heaving asshe still feverishly tried to fuck herself, but she knew what her new"flower" needed.She looked to the closed door and thought of the young man behind it."I need a man."CHAPTER -THREE-Phillip was sitting in a tiny chair, distraught at his currentpredicament. He was asked by the King to paint the Princess' portrait,and halfway through their session she had. Vanessa turned and looked at me and said, “You mean it?” "Yes,” said someone. It was me again, and I realised I really did mean it. “Fuck this job. I'm going to walk out that door and post my keys through the letterbox and never come back here again.” Vanessa looked at me in wonder for a moment, then looked thoughtful. “You're right,” she said. “Fuck this job. I'm in. I mean out. I quit, anyway.” I grinned, relishing the moment. We were all quitting. Just walking out the door and never.