I knew better, but the drug swimming in my system was smiles andsunshine.I desperately needed help.Asking Greg meant admitting a weakness, it meant sa...ing I couldn't do itby myself. It was the fucking pussy way out, but at the periphery of mymind lay the memory of the joy, the delight when I gave into myimagination- the wonderful world of pretend.I was used to taking care of myself. It had been that way since comingto Hollywood, and in fact, it had been that way since my mom stoppedtrying to. Unlike myself, she had supple tits, just enough but not too much, probably a small B cup at the most. She was drunk beyond belief, and I knew I could get away with anything if I wanted to. When we returned home, I helped her up the steps to our third-floor penthouse. She stumbled in the door and I followed not far behind, locking the door behind me. I stripped out of my shirt, because her drink had spilled on it when we were leaving. She turned around and looked at me with a puzzled look."Are. More

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