Disclaimer. This is set in England, with English dialogue so if 'F words' offend you, don't read it.
None of the Characters or corporations are based on real people, or corporations, any similarities are unintentional.
*
It was just a blue door beside a book shop, anonymous, blue, drab, I knocked and an ageing concierge greeted me, "Yes?" she asked as she blocked the way forward up the drab stairway with peeling brown wall paper and worn green stair carpet.
"Maggie? I phoned earlier," I replied.
"Top of the stairs, turn right," she said and she let me pass her, "You pay the girl," she explained, "Price depends what you want," she peered at me and added, "Anal is twenty extra."
"Straight," I replied, as I looked back down the stairs at her, she looked ridiculous too much make up for a woman in her fifties, high heels, fishnet tights, leather miniskirt, her waist tightly squeezed by a black leather corset over which her breasts simply flopped, despite the best efforts of her huge leather uplift brassiere, and worst of all was her hair was an awful shade of honey blonde, almost orange all in all a sad shadow of a once beautiful woman.
"First on the right," she repeated. It was moment of truth time, Sam was insistent that Candice my ex was working here, in this tatty brothel, opposite Kings Cross station, at weekends. She called herself Maggie and I was about to find out if he was right.
I knocked the door, the wrong voice said "Come in." I went in. Sam was half right, the girl was blonde, mid twenties, but gaunt, her eyes sunken into her heavily mascara-ed eye sockets, painfully thin, the full heroin chic look, you could see her ribs above her leather thong, below her leather bra, I wondered if they had a dress code, black leather and as little as possible, but it wasn't her, it wasn't Candice, I didn't know whether to feel relieved or not, I needed it to be Candice, but I sure as hell didn't want it to be.
"Hi," she smiled showing too many fillings, "What do you want?" she asked as I carefully shut the door behind me. The room was well, basic, a tatty front bedroom with a single bed with a mattress and sheet but no covers, a two bar electric fire, a cabinet with a bowl of condoms, a scene set off by peeling floral patterned nicotine stained nineteen forties wall paper.
"Oh," I hesitated, I tried a smile, I wanted to get out of this dump as quickly as possible.
"You can just talk if you want," she suggested, "But its still the same money," I hesitated again but before I could answer there was a knock at the door and the door knob turned and she opened the door enough to put her head around it
"Maggs, have you got any ribbed durex?" she asked, "Oh sorry!" she said, "Didn't realise you had company.
My heart stopped, it was her, oh bloody hell, Sam had been right, almost, the, right place, the right girl, just the wrong name.
"Hi Candice," I said, "Long time?"
She stared back at me, in disbelief I guess, "John?" she said uncertainly, "John Meadows?" It must have been the beard, she didn't recognise me without the beard.
"The same, it seems my mate got the name wrong love," I apologised to Maggie, "It was Candice I wanted to see." I reached in my back pocket and peeled five twenties off my roll of notes and handed them to her, "No offence."
"No, it's fine, as long as you paid," Maggie agreed, but Candice was gone.
"What's she call herself?" I asked.
"Candy," Maggie laughed, "Kinky Kandy with a K,"
"Ok," I agreed, "Thanks," and I went to look for 'Kandy'.
"Shit, shit, shit," she was muttering in her room as I opened a door to reveal a tatty back bedroom with a single bed like Maggie's, the same faded wall paper and an electric fire and a cabinet with a bowl of condoms like Maggie's and there was Candice in a black leather peep hole bra and leather skirt busily throwing her things into a battered cream suitcase.
"How did you find me you bastard?" she asked.
"Oh friends," I agreed, "Good friends," and I closed the door behind me, and I looked at her, "You look like shit," I said.
"So do you," she agreed, "It's no good, I'm not coming back."
I took six crisp twenties from my back pocket, "I'll have anal." I said and placed them in her hand.
"What?" she gasped.
"Anal, christ you don't think I want you back do you?" her eyes said it, disbelief, as if she thought my life revolved around her.
"Right," she agreed, "Twenty extra, oh right, that's one twenty," she agreed, "Oh christ I can't" she said.
"Why not?" I asked, "You fuck all comers, why not me?"
"You know, you know very well," she insisted.
"So pretend it's someone else," I suggested, she stared horrified but then she nodded and sneered.
"Ok, why not, see if I care," she agreed, "Yes fair enough, I'll just bend over the end of the bed shall I?" she asked, "Only a BJ first will cost double."
"No bed's fine," I agreed, "You just pull your panties," I said but she laughed as she flipped her short supple leather skirt up to show there was nothing underneath.
"Just slip this on," she insisted handing me a condom, "And then fuck my ass big boy," she added as much nervously as sarcastically.
She laughed, she always laughed at me, at University we had shared a room in digs for nearly two years, we did the same Art course, but I had set out to make money from my art while she sought critical acclaim and I had issues, in bed, and she started screwing around, and in the end the rows got so bad that she split, left me, left the course, left town with a big spending older guy who promised to set up an exhibition for her somewhere in London, and she disappeared from my life.
"Cat got your tongue?" she asked, "You wanna fuck or you wanna chat."
"Candice," I asked, "Why be so crude?"
"Because I'm a fucking whore," she said, "You said 'If you want it all the time get a job as a fucking whore' remember?"
"I wasn't serious," I argued.
"No but it pays the rent." she countered, "You got seventeen minutes left."
I peeled off my brown leather jacket and my tee shirt, laid them on the chair and just dropped my levis and shorts down round my ankles.
"Jesus what you do, use Viagra," she sneered, "After all this time you finally found V."
I never disillusioned her, "Got a black one?" I said motioning towards the selection of condoms in her bowl.
"Yeah, a real cheap black one, here," she said and threw one at me.
She watched me roll it on, fascinated, expecting me to cum at any second as all too often happened when we were together, but it was ok, he reared up nice and proud, sort of forty five degrees above level, spearing upwards six and a half maybe seven inches.
"Don't get a heart attack," she said nastily, "I'll get some lube."
It came in a little applicator, one with a little handle which she pumped after she stuck the long white plastic nozzle inside her ass, and then she leaned over the end of the bed, "Come and get it," she sneered really nastily, like everything was my fault.
She thought I'd cum before I got halfway inside her, she hated that about me, 'all promise no delivery,' she once said as she assumed I must have fallen out of love with her or be banging someone else, but that was in the past and then she winced as I came close, grasped her by the hips and started to ease my meat inside her, "Hurry up!" she said nastily, as she gripped her own buttocks as she had a hundred times before to spread her tight brown bud to let a cock in, "You should have cum by now."
Her anus was perfectly round now as my black rubber encased helmet eased her open, six inches of shaft joining me to her perfect round ass, then five inches and then four and I kept right on pushing, "Oh christ, let me just," she said as she shifted position, "Ok." and I slid in some more.
"Oh fuck you're big," she complained, "Look maybe this wasn't such a good idea." but there were just three inches left, two, "Aaahhh, no that hurts," she said, "John please!"
"That's me a John," I agreed, "And I paid up front so button it you stupid bitch."
"No seriously!" she said, "Oh please no!" she wailed, "God no!" but there was just an inch now, and she felt real good, tight, real tight, too bloody tight really, uncomfortably tight, so I started humping gently.
"John please," she tried, and I humped some more, "John you can cum, its ok," she tried, "Oh god cum for me baby!" she tried.
"Where did you get that one from?" I asked.
"Some John, well not a John necessarily," she said awkwardly, "It could have been a Dick or a Harry," and the months apart sort of drifted away and she was like the old sarcastic irreverent Candice again.
"Right!" I agreed, "I guess I'm done." I said and slid out of her, her ass stunk of shit and there was shit on the condom as I peeled it off my still rock hard cock and tossed it in her bin.
"What did you have done, is it an implant," she asked as she felt herself freed and turned to look at me, she was lying sort of across the bed, her face against the mattress, lying on her ear watching me she looked at me sort of sideways like she used to with her gorgeous big blue eyes, it was a big mistake, because I gripped my shaft in my hand and wanked the skin up and down a half a dozen times and I just let fly. Her face was in the firing line, when, blam, that first gush of silvery cream came gushing up my rod and hit her right on the top of her forehead, and the next spurt hit her nose and then as she tried to get away I got her on the chin and tits as the spurts got weaker.
"Shit!" she wailed, "You cunt, yuck!"
"Lick it up," I said.
"No way!" she said, but I had my levis half way back up and I reached in my pocket and took a few twenties from the roll of notes.
"Lick it up," I replied.
"Fuck you!" she shouted.
"You all right in there Candy?" a mans voice asked.
"No, the John's completed and wont go!"she exclaimed.
The door opened and a black guy opened it, "Ain't you the guy that asked about Maggie?"
"Sure," I agreed, "Wrong name this is the pussy I wanted, except she wont lick my cum."
"You gotta pay extra," he said.
"I just did," I pointed out.
"So lick the man's cum bitch," he said, "He paid ain't he?"
She still had the notes in her hand.
