Finding Willow

If you loved Finding Willow, you’ll love the prologue from Dawn’s next title:

The music blared in my ear as the lights damn near blinded me. My heels were far too fucking high, and the club was packed. Why did I ever think this was a good idea? Oh, that’s right! I am fucking broke.

I keep telling myself I can do this. I try to ignore the cat calls surrounding the stages. One drunk in the corner whistles before throwing back a shot. Another man shouts at me to take my clothes off. Twenty four years old and instead of being a college graduate or settling down, I am taking my clothes off for money.

This morning the owner of the small motel I have been living in for three months gave me until the morning to come up with three hundred dollars or I would find myself homeless in Daytona Beach. Far from any friends or family. I could call my sister, Star. But that would mean admitting failure and that would never fucking happen. I am just way too proud for that.

I am snapped out of my thoughts when some scumbag with a matted beard grabs my leg.

“No fuckin’ touching!” my voice fails me. Instead of the authoritative tone I was aiming for, I sound like the scared little girl I really am. I seductively dance back toward the pole in the center of the stage while I start to untie the barely there triangles of pink fabric covering my tits. I have never been shy about being naked, but everything about this screams run for your fucking life, Paisley!

“Yeah baby! Shake that ass!” The rowdy men get louder, and I take my thong covered ass to the front of the stage again. The Buckcherry song, Crazy Bitch is nearing the end and I wanted to get as many singles stuffed in my crotch before I walk out that door.

I drop down onto my knees, and thrust my pussy into the faces of three men sitting center stage. My hands slide over my bare breasts, and make their way for the tiny piece of fabric keeping me from being entirely naked. I rub my hand repeatedly over my cunt giving them the show of their lives.

When I open my eyes, I meet the most piercing set of blue eyes I have ever seen. His jaw is square. His hair is long and brown, pulled back into a lose ponytail at his nape. There is a long scar that runs under his eye, and when our eyes meet, he flashes me the most beautiful smile. I forget I am on stage in front of hundreds of perverts, and focus on him alone.

He is the man that will make my every nightmare come to life. I just don’t know it yet.