Car Window Career
My roommate Julia didn’t have any problem exchanging sex for whatever she wanted, money, service, shopping credit. She just didn’t see a problem. “Look!” she said. “When I was growing up in the Socialist Republic, the commissar would fuck my mother before he’d give us our food ration card. My little brother was born when I was fifteen, and after that he’d fuck me too for the extra food ration.” “But here we usually only do it for affection, if we love the guy or want him to like us,” I said, knowing the argument was already lost. “But last month you blew the landlord for the rent,” she pointed out. I was twenty-two then and Julia was seventeen, although it often seemed that she was the older one. She was much more experienced in …