After that night, Beverly didn't waste any time in getting things going.

Mr. Sanford was the first – my first.

I didn't know him. Hamilton is a big town. Anyway, he wasn't from Hamilton at all. He came from New York City, across the river.

He came to fuck me – and paid for the pleasure.

Beverly set everything up. I was over at her house during just about every moment of my free time, mixing business with pleasure.

First there was a photo session.

Beverly had a neat portable camera. It was one of those jobs that develops each picture inside the camera, so you don't have to send the film out to be developed.

That made it convenient for the kind of pictures we took.

She started in her house. It was a small house, one story, set on a corner and off from the other houses in the block.

Beverly rented it. That was one of the reasons why I think that she had pulled this kind of operation before, in other towns.

In case you hadn't heard, teachers get paid peanuts. The unmarried teachers who lived in town had to live in apartments.

But Beverly had that house all to herself. My guess is she rented it for the business she knew she would set up.

There was a living room, kitchenette, bathroom, her bedroom, a guest room, and another, smaller room. There was also a cellar. She took the first sets of photos in the living room. The curtains were pulled tight across the windows so no snoop could peek inside.

She went about it pretty efficiently. She pinned a sheet up on the wall to serve as a kind of backdrop.

She had some lights set up, on little metal stands. They were bright and hot when you stood in front of them.

When she took the pictures, she wore a pair of tight jeans. She was barefoot and bare from the waist up.

I was all pretty, with my hair all freshly washed and shampooed and styled and blow-dried.