“How-who are you?” I blurted, gawking again.A mysterious smile curved her lip. “You’ll do. Do you have a place in town?”“Er, not of my own...just yet,” I replied, the answer falling from my lips not of my own volition. For some reason I simply kept answering her and responding as if she were the one interviewing me for the job. As if she were not the scrawny child she appeared.“How about a telephone number?”“Um, sort of.”She rose and walked with that predatory grace over to an end table and. "I did the math in my head. 8 men. 1 of me. And they were all upstairs smoking. I'm not much on that stuff, but I knew enough to know that t!^a makes for hours and hours of hard cock. Now I understood what C#####e meant when she said good luck. Mr 9er grabbed me around the throat and stood me up"You gunna pay my bills bitch, dey gunna kill us both if you dont" Daddy, i have some money, take me to the bank and we can pay them. Please Daddy?" Huge tears were streaming down my face. I only wanted. More

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