"How much for a fuck?" the stranger asks, blunt and crude. The teen, eyes wide, names her price. "A hundred bucks?" he counters, pulling out the cash. She hesitates, then nods, taking the money. She's on her back, skirt hiked up, panties off, legs wide. He's inside her, fucking her for a price, her cries of pleasure echoing in the cheap motel room. Money talks, and she's listening, her body the language they're speaking.