In love with a prostitute

Yes, I am in love with a prostitute.  Well, an ex-prostitute.  And yes, I met her as a customer.  No sex ever took place before we became a couple, because I do not normally frequent ladies of the night.  I suppose it could be said that I have a looking fetish.  If I ever do employ the services of a pro, no bodily contact is required.  I just like to look. 
    I was on my way out to panhandle some money one autumn day when I saw her walking my way and was suitably impressed by the size of her chest.  Being a white girl in the area in which I lived at the time, I knew what the deal was.  I had no money at the time so I asked if she did heroin, another reasonable assumption on my part.  She said yes, did I have some?  I replied honetly that no, I did not, but I really liked the looks of what she had in her shirt and would morphine take any of the pain away?  Of course it would, and so we returned to my house.  She was impressed that I actually had one and said so.  She came in, I gave her a morphine pill and off came the clothes.  Now it was my turn to be impressed.  42-dd is nothing to sneeze at.      To be continued.