"How much for your cherry?" he asks, his voice rough with desire. She looks him up and down, a smirk playing on her lips. "Five hundred," she replies, her voice steady despite the pounding of her heart. He counts out the bills, tucking them into her hand before pushing her onto the bed. She gasps as he tears off her panties, his fingers finding her wet, ready core. She moans, her hips bucking as he finger-fucks her, her eyes locked onto his. He's not gentle, not that she wants him to be. She's a whore, and she's here to get fucked, to get paid. And he's more than willing to oblige.