What became immediately obvious about my leaning mom wasn't the shortest dress I had ever seen her lithe frame don, it was the long grin sitting on he... face that revealed just the slightest trace of glistening white teeth behind her glossy pink lips. A smirk that spoke something of a thousand words without ever uttering a single word."Does she taste as good as she looks?"My fried brain hadn't quite registered the downright evil question that had come from my own mother's mouth. "I. . .uh."Not a. Her room, where I sat currently,consisted of one wall of mirrors, on the adjoining wall, a giganticmakeup table, with professional lights surrounding and another wall ofclosets, closed tightly of course. The makeup table I had seen in moviesfor when an actress adding to her makeup, impressive. Another table hadall sorts of things on it, most of the items, I had not a clue, butseveral of the items resembled plastic penises (not sure if myspellchecker ever saw that word before...LOL), with some. More

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