She’d also left her skirt in the guest room and was now wearing her t-shirt, panties and nothing else.“It’s easier for me to move without the sk...rt,” she said. With that, she snapped a photo of me, still on the couch. “How about if you lose the shirt?”I complied, dropping my shirt beside the couch. She snapped another couple of shots.“Mm-hmm, good. The pants?”Taking a deep breath, I undid my pants, pulled them off and dropped them on top of my shirt.“And the boxers, honey? I never photograph. This to many men, will seem, perfection, but its more than that, it’s darkness and it’s not what they can accept. So I did without. Sugar, the whore on they all dreamed of, became a nun…at least figuratively. One man who entered my life as a partner for a time, was so unable to get past the entire Sugar thing, when we were at dinner one night, and some other man kept staring at me rather rudely, he noticed. I am a good looking woman, and I do get looked at, but his face sort of turned this. More

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