It is becoming less and less about keeping my job, to save for my car. Once Friday morning comes, I wake up early, just to get a little more studying...in. Yesterday, after school, Mr. Price told me he believes I should do well on the test. There isn’t much more I can do at this rate. It’s all up to taking the test now. When I get to school, I head right for class, not wanting to be late. As Mr. Price hands out the tests, he whispers to me, wishing me luck. My heart is beating a mile per. I know that a fumble will never satisfy the complicated and twisted tastes I have. I don't want the slow grind of a boyfriend who can schedule me in and whom I look at while he sleeps and ache for something I cannot have. I won't feel satisfied with on screen filth. I'm not a prude I do worse in real life, rather I hunger for a tangible touch. I hunger for the space between my flesh and yours, while it shimmers with the prospect of sex a cock deep in my pussy.I wish I didn't feel this way. I. More

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