Soft, like a ballad, the song was more than jazz, less than swing, a bit of rock and roll, yet had the country sound to it. "Sing it Jeff!" I stood at...the mike and we started again. I sang it, thinking nothing of my voice since I am not normally a singer, but it sounded great, even to me. Mom heard it, and came down to listen to us, smiling as we went over the song again and again, refining it, tuning it until at last I sang it again. My voice echoed in the basement, the music sounding as if we. Finally I reached the chambers of Princess Maidina. I was encouraged in (pushed) and the door closed behind me. In an inner chamber there was a movement and I took a deep breath and ventured forth. There she stood: the image of her mother as a twenty year old. Maidina was a massive roly-poly person in a chiffon, fairly see-through, negligee. Like her mother, she moved with a grace that belied her bulk; she had breasts that probably outweighed most water melons. And she had the hots for me, that. More

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