Z : Facing the World (and Getting Paid)
Copyright© 2017 by Mike Kaye
Chapter 12: Z is 18
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 12: Z is 18 - Z did not plan on becoming a prostitute. At 13, she becomes responsible for her younger sister. At 16 a VERY lucky boyfriend enters the picture. Sister issues arise. At 18, Z gets an offer she didn't refuse. She advertises and soon multiple clients come her way. Most are good people. A few are rich. Several clients are married couples.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/Fa Teenagers Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Wife Watching Sharing Sister Orgy Cream Pie Exhibitionism First Oral Sex Voyeurism
I knew that turning 18 meant more than just another birthday candle. I was now officially an adult. My CPS support would end, Fran’s support should continue. Mrs. Roberts had me sign some papers putting me as Fran’s foster parent. I was surprised when she said that the standard CPS payment per child was only $200 because counting rent we had been getting about $600 per month for the two of us. All she would say was that an anonymous donor was paying our rent money.
She continued, “The difference now is no more daily visits and you will be managing your own money. You will also have the $40,000 leftover from the sale of the home you lived in before you lost your mom. Manage your money carefully. You will need a job.”
On the day I turned 18 my BFFs, Becky and Jill told me at school that Jill’s mom would bake a cake and buy a tub of ice cream for Fran and me. It would be a 4-girl party. “Can we eat it at Idle Park at noon?” The birthday girl’s choice was approved.
We arrived first, hiding a bag with silly hats more suitable an eighth birthday party. (Contents to be discarded if they brought something like that.) Becky and Jill arrived in Jill’s mom’s car. But no mom. Jill had her license! I was so happy for her. We carried the cake and ice cream to our table. Jill put 18 candles on the cake and tried to light them. The steady warm breeze off the ocean prevented the candles from lighting.
“Before you guys sing Happy Birthday put these on.” Fran produced the hats. We made a giddy mess of the birthday song.
“Make a wish” (A regular job – something I did not say out loud.) I then pretended to blow out the unlit candles.
We carried the leftover cake and still good ice cream while Jill drove to our house. “Please be warned it’s small.” They had to see the place. I also had to believe that comments on small might be seen as a put-down. I was prepared to ignore any such and warned Fran that my friends might say something like that. They are nice girls it’s just that they have always lived in much larger houses.
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