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“I pulled my dress to my hips, bunching it there in a way I was sure must look awkward, but there was no other way to move my legs apart. I considered unzipping the back and slipping it off to seem less ungainly, but I intended to give him not an inch more than he paid for or deserved. I had no illusion of modesty, but I was well aware of my worth as a commodity. If he wanted to see the curve of my back—and certainly if he wanted another look at my tits—there would be a price tag attached.” — Valentine Glass
I pulled my dress to my hips, bunching it there in a way I was sure must look awkward, but there was no other way to move my legs apart. I considered unzipping the back and slipping it off to seem less ungainly, but I intended to give him not an inch more than he paid for or deserved. I had no illusion of modesty, but I was well aware of my worth as a commodity. If he wanted to see the curve of my back—and certainly if he wanted another look at my tits—there would be a price tag attached.