Your erotic stories

When I left my house, I wasn't entirely sure why I took the job. But as I drove, praying the sputtering in the engine was just my imagination, I knew. I was broke. For what felt like the millionth time, I cursed my decision to leave Blackwell Modeling as an assistant photographer. What made me think I could handle the stresses and demands a freelance photographer had to deal with everyday?

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