“Then that’s where we start,” I said. “When we finish this ride, we’re going to my house.”“You’re not spending the night with me?”�...Samantha, I promise you, if you do this my way, it’ll work. Will you try? Please?”“I guess so,” she said, as a tear ran down her cheek.I’d made her cry, but I felt like that was progress. She had bottled up her emotions, hiding them behind the ‘pretentious bitch’ façade. Despite what I’d said to Kara, she WAS Becky. But I wasn’t my fourteen-year-old self, or. I glanced down at the bill in my hand. In the streetlight I could see it was not a dollar. It was a $50. Well that was more than babysitting was worth, so I guess I was her boywhore for hire.When I got to the Mills house the next afternoon, I was about ready to explode. I'd had to hide a raging boner all day long, every girl I'd seen had morphed into a panting, naked Roberta in my mind, and I was just plain worn out with horniness.I had no idea what to expect of this sex-crazy woman as I rang. More

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