Tonight, even though unexpectedly, I had something to do. Two hours passed by and I decided to head to the motel. Unlocking my bike, I slowly rode th...re, trying to distract myself by watching the landscape. Since it was summer time, even though it was 8pm, the dark orange sun still offered plenty of light. I arrived at the Lakeside Blue Motel half an hour early. With butterflies in my stomach, I rode past the hotel, until I came to a resting stop for cars. Sitting down on a bench, I breathed. Next I would look for the sort of executive who would be grabbing swag or drooling over the booth babes and chat them up. I would get one or two of them (no more than that) to come to the party. The parties were top shelf if I do say so myself. It should come as no surprise that these conferences are typically held in nice hotels so I would rent an executive suite for the party. I would get some of the best foods and top shelf booze set up. I tried to hit regional or national conferences so. Maggot. Slut. Dyke. Walking shit. I look forward to tonight, when I’ll be able to sleep again. It’s the only pleasure I’m allowed. I’ve felt like many different people over the course of my life. I’ve been a daughter. A confidant. A sister. A mother. A cook. A friend. A doctor. A solider. A killer. It hasn’t occurred to me until this moment what I actually am now. I’m a whore. At the moment, I am, and this is my story – but it’s not about sex. To be truthful, I know very little of sex – I’ve. And then you will do the same to whatever fresh meat they stick you with in four years time.”“Hang on,” I laughed at his solemnity, holding up one hand. “Big assumption I’ll be around in four years time.”“Oh no,” he grinned. “You are The James Connor. Nominal ‘The’ with a capital ‘T’. I saw your performance at Nationals on TV. You’ll be around for a while. And,” he added with a lascivious grin, “we’ll make sure you can get around and, ah, have the full ‘experience’ of the summer Games. For a.