Normally, I would be full of anxiety at that point, but this time I didn't feel anything but excitement. I had the remote control in hand and turned t...e ladybug on low as I entered the terminal and got on line. With all the people in the terminal it was noisy enough that there was no chance of anyone hearing the ladybug. I put my bags down and fingered the remote, putting myself on a high simmer while I looked around at the people on line with me. The line had done an 'S', so there were people. My mom was 16 and my dad was 15 yes she was older.anyway they had a fight and went their separd way.I remember my dad would come and get me every weekend to play with my cousins. I dont know what happen,but all of a sudden i was living with dad.Living with dad was a piece of cake.He spoiled me.He gave me everything I every wanted.all had to do was ask.My dad had one rule,that was I must have good grades in school.My dad was a house painter by trade.So we lived very comfortable.when i was 14 he. I reached for my best friend and pulled her down to rest beside me. I enjoyed the contact of her skin on mine, I reveled in the feel of her breast pressed against me, “I love you Vicky.”She kissed my cheek “Love you too slut.” I squealed in mock anger, “Fuck you bitch, you just raped me! Now you gotta go to jail or something.”“No, I won't go, they got women in them places that like teen girls, I would be a toy for some fat ugly dickless dyke.” I raised up over her, I had caught my breath and. All bought that afternoon.“Come up – uh – love,” I breathe into the white box. I try to make my voice sultry. But I sound like a boy on the cusp of puberty.Seconds later, I open the door to my first client. Older than I’d thought. Tall, with thinning white hair. Broad-faced. He stares at me through large, wire-rimmed specs.“Amber?” he asks.“Yes.” It's a name I made up last week for my website profile.“You don’t look like your picture.”“Oh.” I’m nonplussed. Earlier, piling on mascara, I’d sensed.