My early life, growing up, was, as I look back now, perfect! I was the only girl with two, much older brothers. My parents were upper working-class with good jobs and incomes. My mom was a mail carrier and my dad was a truck driver, both military. My mom was in the Army and my dad was a code-breaker in the Air Force. I was spoiled, but I was humble and shy. My dad bought me my first car when I turned sixteen, a baby blue 1981 Chevette; I loved that little car. Back then, driving to school every morning, I felt so happy. 

After graduating high school, I went to college the following fall. I and my baby blue Chevette were away from home and in the big city of Grand Rapids, Michigan. I lived with three other young women in a campus apartment and we all got along beautifully. I was there to study hotel/restaurant management, with no boyfriend at the time. I was determined to make my parents proud of me. 

My roommates had part-time jobs to help supplement their income. My parents deposited money, weekly, into my checking account for my expenses. 

After the first semester, my roommate, Rose, started acting differently. Every Thursday through Sunday, she started carrying a beeper; that was the technology we used back in the day before cell phones were invented. I would watch her, and it would start around 4:30 in the afternoon. Her pager would beep, she would look at the number, smile, and then disappear into her bedroom with the cordless phone. A few minutes later, she would be heading to the shower. When she came, out she was very sexily dressed with her hair perfect, eyes smoky, and dark mascara on her lashes. 

Usually, she was wearing a black mini skirt, black, thigh-high stockings, and a low-cut, revealing, blouse without a bra. She wouldn't look at me or any other roommate; she simply picked up her purse and car keys and walked out the door. She was my roommate, so I would wait up for her. I needed to make sure she got home before I could sleep. 

I would be reading, a tiny light clipped to my headboard, illuminating my book. She would smile warmly at me as she gathered her night clothes and went into the bathroom. I would turn my light off and roll over and drift off to sleep. 

This would be our routine for the next six months. Her clothes became more expensive; she traded her old Chevy Malibu for a shiny red Camaro. She dropped a few classes but maintained her grade point average to remain in campus housing. I started getting jealous. 

That little green monster would forever change my life. 

I was waiting up late, for her, one cold October night, and she was later than normal. I heard the door unlock as she finally walked into the dorm. I was sitting on the couch, with a blanket tucked around, me reading. The first thing I noticed was the sparkle around her neck. She was wearing a diamond choker and the light made every diamond twinkle in the dorm lighting. 

My breath caught, as she stood there in silence. Our eyes locked and she put a finger to her lips, “shhh,” as she mouthed, “bedroom.” I followed her into our room and shut the door. We sat on her bottom bunk bed and I saw her tiny hands were shaking. 

She looked at me, took a deep breath, and said, “Please, Wendy, don't judge me. My father lost his job and my scholarship was cut in half. I needed money if I was going to stay in school.” 

I didn't say anything for the next hour. I simply held her hand as she poured her heart out to me. 

She had answered an ad in the school newspaper for an assistant for a lawyer. She figured it would be running errands, picking up dry cleaning, and such. She went to the interview and the woman was in her early forties—tall, beautiful, every bit the professional that Rose had expected. She had explained that she needed an assistant to handle different duties while she would be busy with clients or in court. The pay was $400 a day, with extra compensation if she needed Rose at the last minute. Rose was offered the job and started that same week. The job was perfect for the first six months, and then she started getting asked to pick up clients from the airport or go to dinner with both male and female clients. She was given a clothing allowance, a credit card, and a beeper. 

Her first “client” was a famous actor who was flying into town. Her boss, Geneva, obviously not her real name, needed Rose to pick him up and "make him happy;" she would be paid $1000 for the effort. Rose accepted the assignment, and she bought sexy black thong panties, a black push-up bra, black stilettos, and a low-cut little black dress. 

The limo pulled up to the airport fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. Rose was in the back waiting, as she had no idea who she was picking up. At exactly 9:30, the driver got out and opened the door. Rose, felt her heart stop when she realized who the actor was; it was a soap opera star, and she recognized him immediately! 

He was friendly and introduced himself. He said, “Call me, Jack.”

Rose felt nervous but comfortable. The driver drove down by the river walk, pulling up to the valet station of a high-rise Merritt hotel.  The valets opened both doors, and Rose watched as Jack tipped the driver and both men. He took his bag and Rose followed him into the hotel. He checked in, took her hand, and took the elevator to the penthouse floor. 

When Rose is talking, she gets a faraway look into her eyes. She was reliving that first night as a paid escort. 

The room had a view of the river. Jack moved her to the big window and stood behind her. He whispered, “You smell so tasty,” in her ear.

He felt her tremble as he caressed her arms, gliding down her hips. His cock pressed hard against her ass and she closed her eyes. In her mind, she was running through a field of daisies. He undressed her and the black dress slides to the floor. 

Jack was an easy lover. He made her cum many times, but she was still running in the field of daisies. He called her a cab around midnight, then handed her $500 and thanked her. In the cab, she calculated her expenses for the next semester and decided to continue as an assistant to Geneva until she finished her degree. 

We talked well into the morning hours. She told me that she was no longer an assistant as her contract had been bought out by a Sugar Daddy and that she now belonged to him, exclusively. He paid for her schooling, her expenses, and the diamond collar she now proudly wears around her neck. She mentioned that Geneva was looking for a new assistant since her contract had been purchased. 

“Wendy, you would be perfect. You're a natural flirt, you love sex, and there's no commitment. I can set up the meeting for tomorrow. Say yes!”

My heart was pounding. The idea of not being financially dependent on my parents was so enticing. Plus, the euphoria of having sex with rich, powerful men was even more thrilling than the money I could make. 

I shook my head up and down, and she hugged me tightly. “You won't regret this, Wendy.” 

Famous last words! 

I remember the meeting with Geneva like it was yesterday. My hands were shaking, my stomach was in knots. Rose had me wear one of her new dresses. It was lightweight, pink, had small rosebuds on it, and was low-cut. She made me wear a pink thong and a pink push-up bra. My breasts are big and the bra made them more glorious. 

I was escorted to a corner office, where the receptionist knocked on the door, waited, and then pushed open the door. My heart practically stopped. The woman behind the desk was drop-dead gorgeous. She had this radiance about her, power, femininity, confidence. I'm not a lesbian, but I felt my panties getting damp, my pulse was racing, and my nipples grew hard. 

Her green eyes never wavered as she smiled at me. She never stood up but just motioned with a slight tip of her head to the chair across from her desk.  I sat down, legs together, trying to look calm and professional. 

“Wendy, you are twenty-one, you just finished your associate's degree in management, and are now going for your bachelor's degree next, correct?” 

My throat was suddenly bone dry, “Yes, ma'am, that's right.” 

“Rose was my first assistant; she gave you a stellar recommendation.” 

At this point, Geneva stood and walked around her huge desk. She walked to the door and locked it. She stepped back, sat on her desk, opened her legs, and showed me her perfectly bare pussy. She looked at me as she pulled her shirt up. I tried to look away.

Her voice was like a whip across the face. “Wendy, look at my pussy!” she said as she started to rub just inside the tan velvet lips.

I watched, transfixed, as she spread her cunt lips open. She was already moist inside, little beads of liquid caught the lights to glisten against her pink inner flesh. 

“My assistant must be able to please both men and women, equally. A woman deserves the highest level of service as any man.” 

She was rubbing her growing clit inches from my face, “Wendy, smell my pussy.”

I leaned in closer and inhaled her scent. My mouth started to water and I moaned out loud. I felt her hands in my hair. “Have you ever tasted pussy before, Wendy?”

I shook my head no. She looked at me and said, “Call me Madame.”

“No, Madame,” my voice was so soft. 

“You will be my assistant, but first you will need training. Put your face in my pussy and lick it all over. Get me wet with your tongue.”

She pulled my head close and pushed her pelvis against my face. My tongue darted in and around her pussy as I found her clit and soaked it with my tongue. I tasted her liquid as she became more and more aroused. She was moaning when I sucked her clit deep into my mouth. She started face fucking me with her cunt, my head almost completely submerged inside her. 

“Put three fingers in my cunt, now!” she ordered me.

I slid three in, never letting go of her cunt. In and out, I pumped inside her until she groaned, my fingers being squeezed by her pussy walls. She groaned and pushed my head in harder until I was swallowing her juices, squirt, squirt, down my throat. My face was wet, from her orgasm. 

Her legs were shaking when she let me breathe.  She smiled as she pulled me to her and French kissed me. 

“Touch your pussy, Wendy. Rub your clit for me.”

I obeyed without hesitation. I reached down between my legs and moved my wet panties to the side. I touched my hard, swollen clit, as she watched me. 

“That's right, little one, rub it faster. Don’t close your eyes, look at me.” 

 She opened my dress and took out my heavy breasts. She started pulling my nipples hard, twisting them. 

“Before you cum, you must ask my permission. Do you understand me?”

She pulled my tits hard again and I moaned, “Madame, can I cum, please! I'm begging you!”

“No, not yet. You have to earn it!”

She pushed me to the floor, got between my legs, and started rubbing my clit with her thumb as she finger-fucked me. She was laughing each time I begged her to let me cum. It felt like an hour that she fucked and played inside my wet cunt. 

“Ask me again, little one,” she whispered. 

“Madame, can I cum? Please, please!”

“Yes, squirt!” 

She put her mouth on my mound as I let loose. She swallowed every drop. I couldn't move; I couldn't think. I felt like I was on an amusement ride spinning and spinning. 

She stood and fixed her appearance. Then, she reached into her desk and took out a bar of dark chocolate. She then turned and took a bottle of water from her mini-fridge. She knelt next to me and helped me sit up. 

“Here, eat this and drink this after. Your first client will be tomorrow. Leave your email with my secretary.” 

She handed me a cell phone. “This has a tracking device in it, in case of emergency, I will email you the itinerary. You will be paid in cash before the assignment. A messenger will hand-deliver you a package with your rate and any last-minute changes.” 

“You can freshen up in the bathroom. Every Monday you will come to my office for a meeting. If I'm too busy, you will come to my house, or we will meet at a hotel. You are still in training, but this client you are seeing tomorrow wants an escort to a doctor's conference dinner.”

I did as I was instructed, left the office, and drove back to college. Have you ever driven somewhere but don't remember doing it? That's how I felt; it was a blur. The only thing I knew was that I had less than fifteen hours to figure out how to be an escort.

I had very little sexual experience. Of course, I wasn't a virgin, but I hadn't been with many men either. The “web” wasn't available yet, there wasn't any Google to use for research. I had the college library, and that was it. I pulled some old magazine articles but they didn't offer much help. So, I walked back to my dorm. 

The messenger arrived at 12:30 pm with my itinerary. Inside it was a stack of twenties, rubber-banded together, and a computer-printed letter with all the information on it.  My date that night was thirty-eight, a trauma physician, and his name was Dr. Anwar Raguliti. 

I was to drive to the car-share parking lot on Baker Street. There, a car would pick me up at six-thirty, dinner was at seven. He had paid extra for sexual favors after dinner and he expected me to stay with him in his hotel suite until after breakfast. 

I went shopping at the local mall and picked up a sexy bra and panty set. I was going to borrow a little, black, sexy dress from Rose.  I got a bikini wax and had a pedicure. I felt sexy and excited. This young girl of twenty-one had confidence and a sexy, hot body. She was ready to take on this new world and milk it for all it was worth.  It was about financial freedom and sex—no love, no commitments, no problem. 

I was dressed to kill in a black silk push-up bra, silk French cut panties, silky smooth legs, a little black dress, and sling-back heels, with my red-painted toes peeking out. My thick, dark, brown hair was loose down my back, and I had red lipstick, with a splash of perfume in all the right places. 

I parked my car in the lot and waited. At six-thirty, a long, black limo pulled into the parking lot, and it pulled right next to me. The limo driver got out, opened my car door, took my hand, and reached for my overnight bag. He opened the limo door helping me inside. 

Once inside the limo, all my senses took over. The smell of his cologne, the size of his feet, his hair, how big his hands were, and finally, his eyes, hazel with a touch of gray assailed me. He greeted me by name, as he had been filled in as to who he had spent his money on. He touched my leg and his voice was deep, powerful, and very sexy. He motioned for me to scoot closer to him. 

“Thank you, Wendy, for being my date tonight. I usually find a way to get out of these formal dinners, but tonight is about hospital politics and trying to secure money for a new surgery suite. You look very beautiful tonight,” he caressed my thigh softly. 

He kept talking, I think he was more nervous than me. 

“There is a cocktail hour before dinner. I will be holding your hand and keeping you close to me. You are my girlfriend from out of town, going to college for her bachelor's degree. Just be engaging and polite, and it will be a mostly painless night,” he winked at me. He continued, “I assume you're on birth control.”

“I am.”

He smiled and moved his hand further up my thigh. 

About twenty minutes later the limo pulled into the Marriott on the River, a beautiful high-rise hotel overlooking the city and river. Other limos and fancy cars were also pulling into the valet area. The driver opened the doctor's door first, then, he ran to my side.

He took my hand, gave it a slight squeeze, and whispered, “I'm your security, not his.”

I smiled at him. It did make me feel better knowing that. 

The cocktail hour was in the Garden Room of the hotel. He held my hand as he mingled and chatted. I caught more than one woman glaring at me behind her husband's back. It appears, that Dr. “Armani”, my secret name for him because of his suit, had some admirers there. 

After the cocktail hour, we took our seats near the grand stage; we were served a beautiful, plated dinner. After dinner, we listened to speeches and then they served dessert and coffee. I was sitting at the table, observing the room, when I noticed an older gentleman smiling as he walked toward me. He introduced himself as Dr. Jacobs, Chief of Staff. He sat down and asked me how long I had known Dr. “Armani” and if we were exclusive?

His voice dropped to a whisper, “I'm looking for an escort in two weeks to Las Vegas.”

I reached into my purse, removed a card, and said, “All of the information is on the back.” 

He quickly placed it in his pocket, kissed my hand, and took his leave. 

Dr. “Armani” walked up to the table, he was angry and his eyes were narrow, “What did he say to you?”

I acted nonchalantly, “He asked if I had enjoyed the dinner.”

Dr. “Armani” wasn’t buying it. He took my hand and I stood and we walked back through the lobby. He was crushing my hand as he walked straight to the elevators. 

I didn't realize he had a room here! I glanced to my left before getting in the elevator and the driver was sitting on a chair. I felt my arm being tugged, so I stepped into the elevator. I wouldn't see the driver for ten more hours. The elevator stopped on the tenth floor. He walked so fast I could hardly keep up, and we stopped at a door marked, "Suite Three." He opened the door with his key and pulled me in after him.  My instincts told me not to say a word. I was getting paid to be his escort and I wanted the money. He pulled his cock out and told me to get on the bed, so I sat on the edge of the bed.

“Don't touch it yet. I will move it; open your mouth, and stick out your tongue.”

He moved his hard, thick cock all over my face, then back and forth against my tongue, over and over. He yanked my dress down, pulled my bra down, and slid his cock back and forth on my tits and then into my mouth.

“Suck it bitch,” he said. 

I closed my mouth around him and sucked so hard I saw stars. I heard him inhale, holding his breath, as I tasted the precum on my tongue.

He pulled out, “Give me your tits!”

I pushed my breasts together and he started pumping.

“Lick it!”

With every thrust, my tongue tickled the tip of his cock. After a few pumps, he squirted all over my face. He was elated. He crawled onto the bed and fell asleep. I would have left, but my contract said I had to stay for breakfast.

Thankfully, my overnight bag had made it to the suite. I stripped off my clothes and took a shower. I slipped on a silky nightgown and slid into bed as quietly as I could. I fell asleep, instantly, until my legs were pulled roughly apart. The sun was just peeking through the window. 

He moved his body between my thighs, he was urgent. I could tell by his breathing that he was horny and wanted my pussy. His morning hard-on was making him rush. He never checked to see if I was properly lubricated, he just grabbed his cock and pushed it into my pussy. 

“Oh, fuck, your cunt is so warm!” he panted as he pushed deeper inside me. 

He pushed all his weight on top of me, his shaft pumping me in and out, his loud sex grunts in my ear, “I'm going to cum inside you. I want to lick it out of you.” He pumped a few more times and then I felt him jerking as he sprayed his thick white load inside my waiting cunt. 

Within moments, his face was buried fully in my pussy, slurping his seed out of me. He was rubbing my clit, urging my body to cum. “I'm not stopping until you squirt, I want our juices down my throat.”

The pressure was building, so I grabbed his hair and pulled him inside me more as I let out a loud yell and squirted our mixed cum down his throat. He drank every drop. 

He kissed me after, pinched my nipple, and said, “You were worth every penny, order room service, I want coffee and an omelet with cheese, and get whatever you want.”

After breakfast, he called the front desk to order a taxi. He handed me five one-hundred-dollar bills. “Great fuck,” he said and then turned and left. I stayed, took a shower, called the limo driver, and left about forty-five minutes later. I made a thousand dollars in less than twenty-four hours. I had completed my first escort assignment and I was flying high. 

Over the next three years, I would finish my degree, buy a condo in a gated building, buy a fire engine red Camaro, and I would take over the escort business after Geneva suffered a stroke and could no longer handle all the daily duties. 

I ran the daily operations out of my condo. Technology had advanced by leaps and bounds by the mid-nineties, and everyone carried a cell phone or a beeper. It made the process so much more efficient. 

I managed up to ten women on any given day. The business was booming, and there was never any shortage of clients. I still booked myself for my special VIP clients, mostly rich Saudi businessmen or doctors, a Prince, when he was in town, or when he would fly me out to see him. 

I was living a great life. I had just turned thirty-two, with no attachments, great money, and great sex until I let a trusted client convince me to book a Dr. friend of his from Dubai. He was flying into town and had heard about the escort service from a friend. He didn't want just any woman, he wanted me. I was hesitant to book him since I only saw my regular clients, now. My life was too busy for random nights, plus, my fee was high, around five-thousand for twenty-four hours of unlimited activities. I was feeling the pressure to accept so I emailed my rate, “It will be ten-thousand for twenty-four hours!" 

I received an email within a few moments.

He said, “Perfect!”

My heart dropped, but I emailed back, “I will be waiting for the details.”

Two weeks later I met Omar. He was gorgeous—tall, dark-skinned with hazel-green eyes, and jet-black hair. I felt my pussy contracting. I agreed to meet him at his friend’s office. I didn’t know it then, but I was going to learn very quickly that Omar had a doctor/patient fetish and he was a Dominant Master.  

That night I wasn’t in charge. He had paid ten-thousand dollars for me and he was going to get every penny out of me, one way or another. His smile was intoxicating. He led me to the back of the office to the very last exam room within the building. 

“Finally, I have you. I have dreamed about this for years. Tonight, I own you. You cum for only me but you must be examined first.”

He stripped me naked, no jewelry, no shoes, nothing. He placed me on the first table. He strapped my arms down and then my legs were placed in the stirrups. I was completely vulnerable and at his mercy.  

What he said next was both frightening and strangely exciting, “I'm going to start an IV in you and then I'm going to infuse the saline bag with a calming sedative. You will feel everything but in a relaxed manner.”

I discovered that I wanted him to do it; I found the idea very arousing. The sedative took a few minutes to activate. While he waited, he gathered his instruments and laid them out precisely. He draped a cloth just past my shoulder blades so I couldn’t see anything. 

The first thing he did was give me a breast exam. His dark fingers moved in small circles, slowly taking his time. Pushing into the flesh, looking for any abnormalities. When he was satisfied with the breast, he turned his attention to the nipple, pulling it, squeezing it, and flicking it with his finger, watching for it to grow. When it did, his tongue would lick it. Then his whole mouth would cover my nipple, inhaling it completely. Then he would start on the next breast repeating it in the same way. 

I could feel my cunt dripping onto the white sheet as I was very aroused. My nipples had never been so hard. I couldn't imagine what was going to happen over the next several hours but I was horny and willing. He moved over my body with precision and onto my abdomen. He listened with his stethoscope pushing and rubbing. Then, he moved down to my cunt. I was kinda dozing off until I heard his intake of breath. My pussy was completely hairless and as smooth as silk. I knew Middle Eastern men loved a hairless pussy. 

He turned the portable exam light on and I felt the warmth on my skin. Next, I felt the cold kiss of the stainless-steel spreader sliding between my vagina lips, and he was mumbling something I couldn't understand. 

Wider and wider he opened up my cervix, and I felt the heat of his headlamp inside me. He was searching for something based on the long reach of the forceps inside my canal. But I had no idea, until a few weeks later, what he had planned. He was removing my birth control; he took out my IUD. I felt a slight pressure as he pulled and it came out but I had no idea what change was coming my way. 

With the IUD out, he started rubbing my clit, then, with his fingers, he lubed it with Vaseline. He pressed three fingers into my stretched open cunt as the spreader gave him plenty of room. I groaned and he moaned.

He took the spreader out, “Fuck you are so perfect in your cunt. I want to be inside you!”

I felt the cold steel being pulled out and then his hot, thick cock sliding in. He mumbled something in a different language. Then, I thought I heard him saying, “Our babies will be gorgeous!” as he stuffed his cock into my waiting cunt. 

He fucked me on the table on my back and on my knees. I was on top, and then he was next to me sideways. He would keep popping some pills so he never lost his erection. He filled my pussy with so much cum that it just seeped out after each orgasm. I was exhausted and sore and my cunt felt like thirty men had fucked me not one. 

We showered together, after that, and he fucked me again. Then, I got dressed, and while he was locking up, I saw him smiling. He turned to me and said, “I will see you in two weeks same price same place.”

I must have had a strange look on my face, because he then said, “Two weeks.”

He handed me a script and said, “Get this filled today.” He walked me to my car and waited until I left. 

I looked at the script of course I couldn't read it. I went straight home; I was exhausted. 

The two weeks flew by. I got an email from Omar saying his flight just landed and he would meet me in two hours. He was already at the office when I pulled up. He looked at me with a critical eye as I walked to the door of the office. 

“You've lost weight, why?” He said it so angrily I was taken aback by his tone. 

“I haven't been feeling well. Just not hungry.” 

We went to the same room, but this time he made me pee in a cup and he watched me. When I was done I handed it to him. I had no clue, at all, what he was testing me for. I couldn't get pregnant I had an implanted IUD. 

“Did you get the script filled, at least?” he sounded annoyed again.  His eyes burrowed into my soul so I couldn't look at him. 

“Fuck, I knew it! Stubborn ass American woman!”

He didn't bother with the exam table this time. He took me right into his friend's office and he told me to strip and he would be back in ten minutes. 

Ten minutes later, the office door banged open and I could tell he was pissed off. 

He didn't say a word; he just unzipped his pants, kicked them off, and practically destroyed his white dress shirt in his haste to be naked. He reached into his suit coat, grabbed a bottle of pills, and took two. 

He pulled me onto the couch. I was on my back as he spat on his cock and just started fucking me. He didn't care if I came or not; that was apparent. He filled me with sperm over and over. I couldn't stand up; I couldn't pee until he had finally exhausted himself. Then, and only after I lay there for thirty more minutes after the last filling of sperm, did he have me get dressed. 

“I don't want you fucking other men,” he said as we walked through the empty office. 

My heart skipped a beat, and my mind shouted, No commitment! But what I said was, “That's none of your business!”

“I'm making it my business!” He was always angry at me. 

I shouted back at him, “You are a client; we aren't dating or a couple. You’re not a client anymore. I'm terminating this contract right now!”

His face grew dark and his eyes were even darker. He crossed the space between us and gripped my arms tightly. He was furious at me. I stood my ground and I glared back at him. I could see it then. I saw what he had been hiding from me he was in love with me. 

I didn't know what to say as it felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I started hyperventilating and started sweating. He turned into Doctor-mode instantly. He walked me to his car, turned on the air, and spoke calmly and softly until it was over. 

“Give me your address. I'm driving you home. We can get your car tomorrow.”

All I heard was, “We”, and then I passed out. 

I woke up in my bed to the sound of someone snoring. I looked over, and Omar was sleeping with his hand on my stomach. I moved slightly and he woke up startled and with a worried look on his face. 

“Are you ok, Baby?” 

“I need to pee,” I said. 

“I'll go with you.” 

“No I'm in my apartment so I will be fine.”

He didn't listen. I went to pee, and then I went into the kitchen. I started the coffee and grabbed a day-old donut from the box on the counter. Omar glared at me again. I was quickly getting tired of this attitude from him. 

“What?”

“I will fix you breakfast.”

“With what? I eat take out.”

“Ok, I will order delivery, go back to bed!”

I started to argue, but he looked at me and raised an eyebrow. I just smiled sweetly at him and went back to bed. 

I'm sharing these memories with you, my beloved daughter, so that one day when you are old enough you will read this book and feel the love I have for your father. My only wish would be that I could have told you this story in person. But, as fate would have it, that is not meant to be. God is calling me home, soon, and your father always made sure I had the best of everything. I love him for it.

My time is near, but, today, as we celebrate your fifth birthday, I want you to know how much I love you and how much your father cherishes you. You are his twin flame. 

With love,

Mommy