"Remember what you said to me about him?"Are you kidding I thought! With all that has happened since we became menand he asks me if I remember one thi...ng that I said to him?"No, sorry," I said, "I don't." You were concerned about my, err, I mean his being somewhat famous;remember?" Only because you were impersonating him!" I reminded him. Jack smiled and chuckled briefly. "I understand that," he said, "what I'mtrying to tell you - I mean ask you, is this: Are you sure you're goingto like being. Back in my room, I flung myself on the bed. I tried to think about possibilities of further interactions with my mother on this subject. Nothing working, I attempted another typical male response to resolve issues through meditation. I went for a shit.Sometime later, after a water level raising dump, I washed my hands, always wash your hands folks, deciding to end the day. Walking through my darkened room, my attention was drawn to the glowing ring still on the floor.Without the glow, I would. Everything is coated, there is not a free inch. Everything is covered with photos from porn magazines, from porn magazines of lesbians fucking in the most different situations. There is everything ... In the middle of all the photos, on the four walls, there are four screens, one on each wall, HD, which project to me all the time, 24 hours, videos of lesbians fucking and cumming like crazy. Those screens are huge 75-inch, high-resolution screens.Both the photos on the walls and the perpetual. I look around to find a room, a big room, two beds, a huge wardrobe behind me, in front of me a big desk, with many girlie things on that and a mirror. Now is time to face the fear, I stand up noticing my really tiny feet, and how different is the sensation of this body, if I have to describe with one word, this word is soft, I am extremely soft.I walk to the mirror, and yes, I am the blond hooker. I am a girl with maybe 20 years, with a messy hair, a beautiful face that looks at the same time.