She was extremely proud that herbreasts were completely real. Marla looked down at her hands and saw long bright red nails on the endof each finger. I...stinctively, she knew that the color matched herlipstick. Her blonde hair flowed down around her face; like her breasts, her hairwas all natural. The man ran his eyes over her as she approached him. She was exactlywhat he was he was looking for. "What's your name?" he asked. "Marla," she replied automatically. "Marla Seaver." I haven't seen you. It was during this period that my mother started looking elsewhere for what she thought she was missing. After she left, he didn't have the time to spend every evening with me, but he seemed to give me every minute he did have.The thing I remember most is the reading. It started out with me sitting on his lap, the book in my lap, Daddy moving my finger across the words on the page as he read. That changed to me dragging his meaty hand along as I read to him, slowing only when I needed some help. More

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