" Hookers?" Yeah," I responded.She laughed. "We were but I wasn't much of a hooker. I mean sex worker." I'm sure I looked confused. "I better explain....I ran away from home when I was seventeen and came to San Francisco. I was going to get a job and crash with a bunch of girls and get a boyfriend and all that. That's when I found out that there aren't jobs for seventeen-year-old drop outs. I ran out of money and was really desperate. I stopped into a thrift shop and bought these ugly high heel. Barely kissing his back, my hand went lower, down over his muscular thigh. With my fingernails, I very gently came back up to his hip."Master," I whispered, licking his back with the tip of my tongue. I curled my hand around his hip, grazing my nails across his stomach. He stirred, turning to lie on his back, and I gasped quietly. My hand was trapped between his belly and his cock, and it was hard and hot against the back of it. "Mmmmm, Master," I breathed.Feeling him hard added fuel to my. More

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