I went into the foyer wearing the media version of the stereotypical prostitute outfit. My shirt was so tight, it looked painted on, and it was croppe... above my navel. The skirt was obscenely short and the boots were almost comically tall, going all the way up to the knee with three-inch heels. I was just praying I wouldn’t fall. Mr. Earl was waiting in the foyer next to a tall, skinny, freckled guy. He couldn’t have been more than twenty, and he looked like a scared rabbit. I breathed a sigh. My dad sniggered audibly and excused himself to fill up the water jug. I sat back down and started eating again to distract myself. As the night went on, Amy seemed to forget our awkward moment earlier and we got along well. Every second that passed my cock got harder and harder in my pants and I knew that I needed to stop thinking about all the things I would want to do to her if the adults weren't here. At one point, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. I masturbated to the thought of Amy. More

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