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He frowned.
"Sorry, I didn't mean that you're old, or that you're a pedophile or
something" I stuttered, blushing.
"You didn't seem to have any problem with it an hour ago," he said,
frowning. "I'm 35. And I prefer...men younger than me. Granted, you are
young, but you look a little older than 19, and you're definitely
my...taste. And judging from your willingness to entertain an older
man..." He let his voice trail off into silence and gave me an
inscrutable look.
"I umm. . ." I stammered, blushing. Oh my god, he was for real!
"My mother knows me; she knows, or at least thinks she knows, what I
look for. I know I'm not the ugliest person in the world, but if you
think you can't do it, pretend to be in love with a person of my age,
or with a man, period..." he said, frowning.
"No, no, no," I said, quickly, "I think you're..."
"Ah, so you do think I'm attractive enough? How about hot or
sexy?" He asked, sarcastically.
"No! What I meant was not too old...in my opinion."
He seemed genuinely surprised at that and I looked away, shyly.
"I see...so it wasn't just the money, you actually prefer older
men," he realized. "That should certainly help sell the act. Now, you
realize what this all entails? We have to act the part; if we don't,
she'll catch on and it's all over. The end, no money." He said that
last warningly.
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