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My body, naturally, was a little sore and my face dry from so much kissing.  I didn’t understand how Julia Roberts’ character in Pretty Woman could make it her policy not to kiss her clients.  It might make it easier, but what else would you do?  How would you kill time?  You couldn’t fuck for an hour straight.  All these men wanted at least a little kissing—and, with the exception of Jeff from Long Island, they usually wanted a lot.

I liked Sydney.  I missed her when she wasn’t there.  I liked racing all over Manhattan in cabs.  I liked going to fantastic apartments and making someone’s night, acting out their fantasies and being their dreams.  Playing this role, living this life, had gotten easier.  I knew what to expect, and I felt like I’d gotten good at it.

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