She had been furiously sketching the artists and the café. Silence caused her to look up and scan the students and look at me."Just because I'm an American doesn't make me rich," I said causing disappointed looks. "Okay. I'll think about it." The little whore's mouth gaped. "I'll talk to my mother. We'll figure it out. How about I buy a couple carafes?"The little whore and I stayed long enough to drink a glass of the rosé I bought. I bought the sketchpad from its owner. The charcoal was free. We headed home. Except for a blow job so she could sketch my erection we didn't make love. I modeled nude. She sketched. We talked. I told her about the City and my artist friends and the high school for artists in Harlem. We cuddled and slept. My mother arrived around sunrise waking me. She looked exhausted. She went to bed. I stayed up thinking.When light broke through the window the little whore awoke. "You're still here. I'm still here," she said quietly."Let's go have breakfast," I said.We. " You're fucking her and I know you are. And, I'm gonna tell my dad."Chapter 2Well, this was a potential mess."Unless you do what I want."Oh, money? I thought. I'm about to get bribed."And what is it you want?" That you fuck me, too. Like you do Anita. But I don't want her to know."Well, well. I was fully expecting to be extorted somehow but, no, I was being offered more pussy. And by my lover's little sister who was a younger, super-sexy version of Anita.Then, she pulled up her sweatshirt and put her chest out showing me her quite beautiful breasts, tipped with puffed-up, light pink nipples."This is what you're getting, Steve. And I'm so ready to fuck you. It's all I think about." I ... I don't now what to say, Amber." Say you'll fuck me. That's simple." Um, yeah, okay. We need to figure out how to do this." I have it all set. I'm spending the night Monday night with my best friend and she said she'd cover for me. So, I can meet you near her house and you can bring me to your place.
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