My drug dealer told me that I would be his little slut whenever he wanted. Whether cheap phone sex was the deal or some hot stone massaging was what was going down. Whatever my dealer wanted, he would get. Now I know I don’t look like the kind of girl that does blow. Quite frankly, I don’t, but I am flipping that product, making so much money from it, and throwing parties.
My dealer has no clue, but I am enjoying this rock-star life style. I grew up in the church and had a strict parents. After all, I was supposed to make them proud and go to Harvard.
As if I would ever want that, I am enjoying this crazy life.
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