I would be the first to admit that my life as it began with Jon just a few weeks before my thirteen birthday is not the life I would want any girl to have. I was too young. They would be too young.
At the same time, I do not see it as a lost of of the ever-so-prized innocence that most parents want for their children.
I am not saying my parents did not want me to enjoy the joys of childhood fully before I began to explore the joys of being a woman. I am simply saying that any innocence they have have desired for me was a false hope. I was never to know that innocence.
As a fairly successful beauty contestant, I often made a few dollars modeling for local dress stores. About two months after I gave Jon that first blowjob, I did one those modeling gigs. I could tell -- as I had come to learn even in just a few weeks -- that the photographer thought I was pretty.
Now he was old enough to be my grandfather and he made no effort in the slightest to act on his desire, but his desire gave me an extra glow that made those photos some of my best.
It would be virtually impossible for me to fully convey how important dressing up became for me. Without the clothes, I was just a boy. With the clothes, I was just a girl. With the right clothes, the right look, I was a teenage cockscuker. Later I would become a teenage whore. And later I would become simply a whore. Men did not want me for the clothes I wore. But the clothes I wore gave them the 'freedom' to take me as they wanted me.
Once I started sucking dick, dressing up ceased to be about the clothes. It became about the sex. Dressing up became part of my sexual experience. As I became more adept at dressing in the right clothes and picking up the right men, dressing up became my foreplay. When I was done and ready, I could look in the mirror and almost taste cock in my reflection.
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