|About the Book|
I was eighteen when Martin rescued me from the streets, and even though he set about changing my life with a fire and a passion that was almost incomprehensible, he never tried to have me. Really, there was nothing I wanted more, so I couldn’tMoreI was eighteen when Martin rescued me from the streets, and even though he set about changing my life with a fire and a passion that was almost incomprehensible, he never tried to have me. Really, there was nothing I wanted more, so I couldn’t understand why when I finally got the guts to try something myself he reacted with anger instead of taking the opportunity to heart. What lurked behind those dark eyes of his?Warning: This ebook contains explicit descriptions of sex acts and includes bondage, spanking, and explicit references to prostitution. Only mature readers who won’t find that kind of content offensive should read this story.Here is a preview:I was seventeen years old, and I moved from one dive hotel to the next fucking and sucking strangers for ten dollars for a hand job, twenty for a blowjob, forty for a fuck, and no I don’t do couples or anal sex. There was nine months or so of that.I read in a fashion magazine that women in their forties in America have had an average of between eight and nine partners. Men had an average of thirty-one or so. On a slow week when I was in the motel, I had at least one a day. Most months, I had at least four a day, enough to eat and pay for the rooms. I guess in total, I’d fucked for money at least nine hundred times, and that was probably about seven hundred different guys. That doesn’t even include all the guys I made cum in foster care or the blowjobs after I left the hotel.Then, about five months before Martin found me sleeping in an alleyway, I fucked a guy. He paid me one hundred and fifty dollars to get a blowjob and then to fuck me and then another blowjob. I got him off quickly the first time. Twenty minutes later I fucked him, and then once he came, I sucked him until he came a third time. We’d spent about two hours together, and he passed out on my hotel bed. I figured I’d let him sleep for an hour or so, but while he slept, I cleaned up the room. When I hung up his clothes, I found a gun in his jacket. I cleared out and lived on the streets. I was scared. I’d fucked seven hundred guys for money, and I guess that was the first time I realized just how scary it was.