"How much?" the john asks, eyeing the teen's lithe form. "Fifty," she replies, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. He smirks, "That's steep for a little thing like you." She shrugs, "Take it or leave it." He takes it, pulling her into his car, the smell of leather and cologne filling her nostrils. As she unbuttons her blouse, revealing her small, perky breasts, he hands her the bills, and she feels a thrill of power mixed with shame as she begins to pleasure him for pay.