Owen returned with my panties in his hand, a knife, a jug of orange juice, two cups, and the bag of bagels. "Why are you crying again?" he asked."I fe...l like shit," I said, drying my eyes on the back of my hand. "You seem like such a nice guy, and I'm such a whore." You're not a whore," he said sweetly. "You got drunk, and we fucked."I am a whore!" I cried. "I act all prim and proper, but the truth is, I'm just a whore!" If you were a whore, you'd be downstairs in the dogpile." Dogpile?" I've. ”She thought about it and asked, “How many do you expect back each week?”The woman told her it was up to her and how much time she put in on it, but her best girl was dirtying up fifty pairs of undies a week and seemed to have a high demand for her scent and sexy perfume.Betty did a quick calculation in her head and realized that was the thousand dollars a week that the woman had mentioned.She responded by telling the woman, “I will be over and pick up a box of fifty and I will see if I can. More

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