It'S Really Me
I have written several stories on this site and they have all been of a sexual nature. Were they true? Yes. They came straight from within and all the things I have written, I have experienced. Would anybody have read my stories if they weren't about sex? I don't know because I never had the guts to write about anything else. I didn't have enough trust in people let alone myself. So if you have read my stories, this one is a little different but if you really want to know me, here I am. At this very moment I am sitting in a room at my parents home. In the silence of night, I can hear mice running in the walls and over my head in the ceiling. Some nights I fear waking up and seeing one of them staring me in the eye. It hasn't happened yet. Maybe it is because of my bedbuddy Ginger. My best friend and sweetest dog in the world. Someone who is loyal and true and always waiting for me at the door with her tail wagging. I've had many sweet dogs in my life and each hold a special place in my heart. As for me though, I spent many nights growing up in this house dreaming of my future and how it would be. A little fat, chubby girl who loved to read the first book ever given to me and that was the childrens Bible. Where did that little girl go? She went into jr high and lost a lot of weight because of a vial little boy who used to call her names. I am very smart and was in all the gifted classes but as soon as I entered high school I started smoking in back of the school and hanging out with the kids going nowhere. Why? She didn't think herself good enough to have the real dreams anymore. My self-esteemed already shot to hell. I started smoking weed and drinking and like many discovered sex. My first time was suppose to be special but I discovered fast that guys didn't really care. But I thought if I were better at it someone would fall in love. That thing all girls dream about. I became very good at it and any attention was better than none, right? My parents loved me and wanted the best for me but the rebel Iwas and bucked every thing they ever told me. I became so good at sex that a man persuaded me instead of giving it away I should be selling it instead. I became a prostitute. I was raped, beaten, and abused until I couldn't stand it any longer. I went to live with a john Ihad met while working the stroll. I got a job, started trusting again. I met my daughter's father who belong to a gypsy clan. I learned to lie, cheat, and con people. My life of crime began. I was so easy. To make a long story short, Iended up in federal prison. Yes, camp cupcake along with the famous Martha Stewart. I brought GOD back into my life and thought I had gotten myself together. My daughter was 13 by this time. I had graduated from college but while there discovered drugs again but the harder stuff this time which is what lead me to my federal conviction for bank fraud. I loved my daughter very much and was a good mother in the beginning until she was 6. I got out of prison and began working as a cook. I violated probation twice, went back to prison twice. I got counseling while there for the traumas I faced and having been working as a cook still in the same restaurant as when I was released from prison the first time. I turned back to sex because it is something I am very good at and still get a lot of attention because of my pleasuring skills. I have other very inspiring skills but have never given them the chance because I'm still that little fat girl on the inside looking for somebody to love her. I cry sometimes because I have wasted all these years and fear loneliness to be my lifelong best friend. My daughter turned out wonderfully by the way and has a man who loves her very much and two beautiful children. Pray that the little girl within myself someday finds her dream.