Her eyes were big, motley, with predominantly blue nuance. Her wavy dark blond hair was almost reaching the waist. Sexy gal, no doubt about that, but ...ust ... not suitable for Big Boy."Are you really a prostitute?" Big Boy asked."Well, I just ... why are you asking?" she said shyly and pulled up the neck of her tight black blouse. She seemed to be worried that the most of her breasts was exposed."I'm asking because you do not look like a prostitute." All right, I'm new to the job, actually .... She was raised six inches by a pedestal.A woman can live and yet not live, my George. She can damn herself out of her vanity and weep where there is not comfort. The sculptor did not flatter me. This is my image at the age of nineteen. This has been my vessel for thirty-four years. I used to shatter hearts. I would date a man, only to dump him when I thought there was someone better. I didn’t care. I’d do it again and again, but none was ever good enough. They adored me and I gave them. More

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