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the most shameful thing at that moment was that I had managed to scratch together just $641, but what was he going to do? Call the police? ‘Hello officer, this lovely girl has robbed me of one sex and didn’t cough up, please arrest her’ – I think not. 
    “Take it off ? I’ll get cold” I said.
    “Oh, you’ll warm up.”
    His house was sparse, a bit like I had expected, the den of someone who was a High School student only a second ago, and the recent money that had come into the decoration hadn’t quite pushed out the Playstation or frat-boy posters. The entire place smelled like his cologne.
    I walked to the bathroom to get out of my clothes and get things underway.
    “Where are you going? I said strip. ”
    Oh.
    I cautiously unbuttoned my skirt and took it off, then removed my top as well, lingering a little in my bra and the g-string, wondering what he would have to say about them.
    “All the way, everything off,” he said. He was sitting on a bar stool and running his eyes over my body. Did he like my breasts? Was I turning him on at all? Was this just business as usual? It was hard to say.
    “You know it’s my first time, right?” I said as I peeled off the bra and panties and laid them down over my clothes, folded neatly on another bar stool.
    “Yeah it’s my first time, too. My first time deflowering a bratty little princess like you. And I’m going to enjoy it.”
    I was too shocked to say anything. I didn’t know what to think first; that he thought so little of me …or that he seemingly enjoyed thinking it. You know, for a guy who had talked me into this and basically led me astray, you’d think he’d take more responsibility for all of this. I stood still, waiting for my next order, I guess. Could he call the Better Business Bureau if he found out I didn’t have the cash? What do you think $159 worth of “his way” would look like, anyway?
    I straightened my shoulders and stood tall, stark naked. Let’s see what everyone makes such a fuss about.
    He slid off the bar stool and sidled up to me, then, maintaining an excruciating inch of distance at all times, he moved round my body, top to bottom, the front and the back, as though sizing me up. Each little hair stood on end under his gaze. I had the dumb realization that of all the porn clips I had seen, curiously they missed all these beginning parts. Were we officially started now? Was I, you know, “on the clock”?
    “You need to relax,” he said, still surveying me. “You can almost see the tension in your muscles.” He stepped back and delivered his diagnosis: “You need some weed.”
    I shook my head. Once was enough, that’s for sure.
    “Ah, I thought we were going to do this my way?”
    “But …weed makes me cough. And say stupid things.”
    “Incorrect. That was a stupid thing to say, and if you smoke now with me, then you’ll start speaking sense.”
    “But…”
    “You didn’t come here with any money, did you?”
    My mind raced. I said nothing.
    “No, you didn’t. So it’s on the house. But on my terms. And I say smoke, so you must.”
    I could have protested there, could have told him I had indeed brought money, that he had to do what I said, but something made me bite my tongue. I was curious about where this was going. I could stand to listen. At least for a little while, right?
    I nodded, and he turned and started to fuss with something inside a little tin he had on the table. It was pretty inconvenient, having to stand there like an idiot while he chopped and rolled, but I bet he kind of enjoyed it, what with me being such a despicable Christian girl. If I’m honest, I also get irritated with how much of a killjoy I could be. Maybe he could beat it out of me. Oh my god where did that come from?
    “Oh Jesus will you just relax? You look as though I’m about to bite you,” he said, handing me a faintly glowing joint.
    I took the joint. Apparently, it doesn’t take very long to get completely used to