Part of me wanted to fight him off. The other part of me really wanted to be his Christmas soloist. What could I do? “Sing for me now, Carla. Open u... and sing the praises of God. Sing how much we fit together. Your tight young body sharing my cock. Do you like it, baby? Want to be my soloist this year?” I couldn’t speak. His cock felt so good and I knew that if I moved I would start to cum and cum and not stop. He was really giving it to me balls deep. I never EVER thought of Mr Orland. "Hi, I wanna hire a real fake Brittany Spears." Okay, it's a hundred bucks for a halfday, evenings it's 150. What's the occasion?" Huh? Occasion?" I needed an occasion just to get a real fake Brittany Spears? Jeeeesus!"Yeah, babe...Birthday party? Fund raiser? What's up?" Oh, it's a therapy thing...Uh, like for emotional therapy." You mean mentals? You wanna get a real fake Brittany Spears for a buncha retards? Is this a joke?" No, it isn't a joke. When can she do it?" Sounds weird kid, I don't. More

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