My perfect brunette wanted to make the other pimps pay a commission too, but I killed the idea. Everybody was making money, which took the envious eye... off me.Cathy, again, proved problematic. She figured out I wasn't normal and what the window-women were doing for me. Wanting her own money, she insisted on taking shifts. She was also under the impression that being my eyes would bond us so I'd always be aware of her thoughts. I wouldn't call what she felt a crush, because it wasn't possible. As his warm lips touched my neck, I gasped and tilted my head to the side. “Baby, I really need to study,” I whispered. “It can wait,” he said, throwing my books off of my bed, “Right now, we’re alone, and I want you. It may be our only chance to have sex for a while.” I blushed at the thought. Before he came to Georgia, we always thought about what our first time would feel like. He was nervous because it would be his first time, I was nervous because I wanted it to be perfect for him since. More

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