I lean upwards towards his ear breathing softly. "you're mean." I murmur as I swallow a whine he clearly heard. His devilish smirk appears "No" he shakes his head "This is mean" he pinches my nipple in the hand that's covering my nipples I whimper...
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I stare blankly at myself pulling the hair between my fingers. I snip off till it's shoulder length. I repeat the process until I leave with a short bob that can be slick back.
I exhale looking at the hair on my head. At my shoulders now.
I exhale looking at my red dress slutty slutty oh boy more cleavage than ever. My breasts are swollen and incredibly sore. Half my ass is hanging out and my fishnets look like they belong to a prostitute. Which is a good thing.
I'm using this flat stomach while I have it. I grab thigh high boots I grab hoops I pick up my belly button jewelry I had to get it taken out I put my bottom lip. I know it's okay to have I really don't want it in. I need to feel as grown up as I can to prepare myself. I pull the short wig on my head inhaling.
Now I could've just bought a short wig but where's all the fun in that.
I grab concealer covering up the scar on my leg from surgery.
I was covered in them. I thought they'd never disappear. Something engraved in my body permanently, something that I'd have to wake up and see everyday. What do you think a baby is gonna be like?
I do heavy eyeliner adding black to my waterline. I apply mascara and I outline my lips in a deep red and fill in with a red lipstick. I pick up the black choker debating if it's too much.
I already look really hot. The choker is eh. I dropped it. I pick up the wig somehow managing to put my hair in a tiny wig cap. I put the wig on and slicked my hair back with gel. I'm not even into girls like that but I'd sleep with me.
I put the hood in grabbing a black bag. I glanced at the positive pregnancy test and tears burned my eyes.
The overwhelming urge to pee and cry and eat ice cream and eggs together and enjoy An episode of pretty little liars takes over. But no, Here I am head to toe in full Belinda the prostitute outfit.
Maybe I should go by Scarlett. I bat my lashes zipping my purse. I glance at the fake tattoo on my collar as if I'd get Perl as a tattoo.
I slip out of my hotel room looking at the bag of money on the floor. I picked up a hundred stuffing it in my dress.
Fake ID I'm crashing a party. Nadine Hindenburg. 21
The parties were exclusively secluded in a clean room. I'm underdressed but I fit in with the other prostitutes pretty easily to identify who's important and who's not. Men dressed in dark suits, women long dresses, nothing puffy or fluffy. Dark gowns, red lipstick and expensive alcohol. Parties of the rich.
I see a 55+ man whisper something in a young girl's way to you and definitely not a prostitute. She frowns and stomps on his feet before laughing and walking over to another group, definitely her mom. They look practically like twins aside the fact she's 20 years younger.
