"What can I do for you?" she said seductively, suggestively. The woman had long, dark hair and striking eyes. For a hooker she was very beautiful. More a model than a streetwalker. But that's what she was.

She began to undo my tie but I stopped her. "Can we just talk for a minute?"

"Just talk?" she raised an eyebrow. "It's expensive; I get paid either way."

"Fine." I lay the five hundred dollar bills on the Days Inn night stand.

"But we can at least get comfortable, can't we?" she purred, removing her dress in one clean sweep. Now she was only in her bra and panties. Distracting. I looked her over. Too young to be her. She should be around 40 or so. But this woman was no more than mid thirties. 36, tops.

She was 18 when she ran off to become a whore.

"I'm looking for someone," I said, offering her a drink.

"Everyone is, honey," she said, sipping the liquor. "We're always looking for some love and attention once in a while. And for a price, you've got my love and attention for an hour."

"No, I'm looking for someone I lost many years ago, when I was only three."

"That's a long time kid. What brings you here?" Despite my protests, she reached up and pulled off my tie. She managed to unbutton three buttons before I held her hands fast.

"It's a woman by the name of Helen. Helen Troy." For a split second, her hands stiffen, her eyes went wide. Then, she looked away casually.

"You know her." It was a statement.

"Never heard of her." Then, smiling at me. "You don't think I'm her, do you?"

I did not answer, my voice caught in my throat, hoping beyond hope.

"Kid, you've got to be kidding. Name's Felicia. Not Helen. Don't know any Helens." She sounded convincing enough as my heart sank into despair again. Not her. Couldn't have been. Hoped too much. This Felicia was too young, too slutty, too womanly.

She saw that I was upset and turned her charm back on. "There, there, kid. It's all right. maybe someday you will find this Helen. Who is she to you anyway?"

"Nobody. Just an old acquaintance."

On Bourbon Street. That's where all the whores hang out. That's probably where you'll find your mother. But don't go there, son. Don't ever think of going there. She's just as good as dead, that slimy bitch.

"Cheer up, kid. I can make you forget. At least for a little while. That's what I'm here for." I no longer fought her as she unbuttoned the rest of my shirt and slid it off. As she sat on the bed from behind, I could felt her remove her bra and press her warm body close. Her milky breasts cushioned my back and I leaned into her for support. She turned my face to hers as I fought back tears.

"But I don't want to forget," I whispered. "I don't want to forget Helen."

"Was she your first love?" she asked, undoing my belt and trousers. She freed my throbbing cock and massaged it to full length.

I nodded silently. "I guess you could say that."

She pulled me to her as she lay back on the bed. I bent low and sucked her bountiful breasts, licking each in turn and biting her now erect nipples. "Oh, yeah, baby. Suck 'em. Suck my tits. I can be your first love, too. I can be whoever you want me to be, honey. I'm all yours."