Ta, mate. I'll get the next one in.
Anyway, where was I? Right. Next morning I'm at the shop early. Funnily enough, the missus woke up and wanted a bit. I'd fucked the arse off her when I got in and she was well horny again. She jumped on top and started riding the fuck out of me. Thing was, I'd already decided that the bird in the shop was where I was going to empty my bollocks first off, so I had to push her off sharpish and say I had to be in work early. Legged it without even having a shower, stinking of the wife's cunt and me own spunk. Anyway, I figured the little slut was probably used to that. The one in the shop, that is, Dave, not the missus. No-one could ever call the missus a slut. More's the bleedin' pity.
Anyway, she turned up bang on time. I tell you, mate, she was dressed like she was ready for a night whoring herself out. She had a skirt on…I'm telling ya, it barely covered her cunt. She had a black bra under this little white top so her tits were virtually screaming at me. She had shitloads of make up on and her hair was blonder, much more tarty than the day before. I couldn't believe she'd walked up the street looking like that!
"Hello, love," I said. "Looking forward to it?"
"I can't wait," she says, grinning. "By the way, I didn't ask yesterday, but what's your name?"
"Stuart. Stu. Whatever. How about you?"
She starts laughing: "Jenny. Slut. Cunt. Whatever."
She's still standing by the door when she says that, so I say: "Hadn't you better come in?" To be truthful, I wasn't really sure what to say to the 'Slut. Cunt' bit. I mean, I've never had that when I've asked a bird's name before. It puts you off your stride a bit. Mind you, if she tells you it's 'Slut. Cunt. Whatever' you've got a pretty good ideas of where you stand, aintcha?
Anyway, she starts walking across the floor, tits swinging away, and I catch a glimpse of something shiny hanging between her legs. First thing I think is: 'fuck me! The dirty cunt's got no knickers on!' Then: 'hang on, her fucking hole's pierced!' I mean, she'd said about that, hadn't she? But not only that, she's got something dangling off the lips.
I'm in front of the counter again, having resumed yesterday's 'all right, darling?' position. She comes and stands about two inches from me. Same reeking cunt. I tell ya, I'm dizzy with it.
"It's my Master who calls me those names," she says, still smiling. "But to be honest, that's what I am anyway, so I don't mind who uses them. A spade a spade and a cunt a cunt."
I'm thinking: 'Fucking hell, I never thought posh birds talked like that!'
"Can't argue with that, love. Can't argue with that." To be honest Dave, I was a bit shaky. I didn't really know what to say. She was doing my fucking head in. Don't get me wrong, I get me fair share of hole, like, but this was fucking ridiculous.
"My Master is very encouraging. He's very strong, like you." This is said apros whatsit of fuck all, but at least it gives me a question. "Right, yeah, this Master business, what's the crack there, then?"
She moves even closer. Now her cunt is pushed up against my cock, which – obviously - is as hard as fuck. With the heels on – did I mention the heels? - she's almost as tall as I am, and she whispers, all low and throaty, like: "I'm his cunt, I exist only for his pleasure. Without his pleasure I have no meaning. I lose myself in his needs.
"Everything he tells me to do, I do. Even if I don't really want to do what he asks, I end up loving it…because I adore him. He knows that I am his whorish cunt who can't resist his orders. I fuck whoever, or whatever, he tells me to fuck. And he loves me for it. He has turned me into a repository for cum. 'A walking spunk bank', he calls me 'a cheap whore spunk bucket'."
Blimey! Does he ever buy you flowers and chocs I wonder? But I never said nothing. Well, I mean, what could I have said? 'Oh yes, and do you enjoy many social events at the palace?' Not used to it, see. A bit out of me depth, truth to be told, Dave, mate.
"The wonderful thing is that I can never, ever get enough hard cock. Cunt, arse, mouth, all my holes need filling…all the time What do you think of that Stuart, Stu, Whatever?"
Sweet, I'm thinking. I'll have a bit of that! But I just says: "Right, er, lovely!"
Dead quick, she nibbles my ear and moves her head away. Right, I think, fuck it! I move me hand down to her cunt, feel something cold and, like, metallic between her legs. But then her hand shoots down and pushes mine away. I think, fuck it! She's just a fucking cock-teaser!
She smiles and shakes her head. "No, Stuart, Stu, Whatever. I can only let you do that when my Master says that it is all right. I'm hoping that he'll text me soon. He texts me all the time with little tasks."
Thank fuck, I think. It's still on. "Okay, yeah," I says to her. "That sounds fair. Gotta wait for the boss, like. Yeah, no worries. So…er, little tasks, hey? What's that all about, then?"
She smiles that dirty little smile and sort of snorts. "Oh lots of little tasks. But not enough to keep a cunt like me from wanting more all the time."
"Right," says I. "I can see that. No offence, like. Er, what sort of things?"
She eased her cunt back against my hard on, and leans over to whisper in my ear. Low, so I have to strain to hear it, she whispers: "Yesterday I thought that my task was only to get a job here. I was itching for some cock, desperate to be used, spunked up. My Master insists that I keep my cunt bare at all times so that my holes can be used instantly upon his command. And I so desperately wanted to have hot cum running out of me, feel gallons of spunk between my thighs, while I talked to you. I've seen you through the window several times and I so wanted you to know what an easy, shameless cunt I am. Do you want to know what happened Stuart, Stu, Whatever?"
Too fucking right I wanted to know what happened! Only a bit less than I wanted to know next week's Lottery numbers. Just goes to show how much she was doing my head in, don't it? Anyway, I just nodded, acting cool, like.
She smiled again, her cunt pushed slap against my stiff prick. I could feel something hard pressing against me. I remember thinking, 'fuck me, I hope she ain't got metal bollocks!'
"I was less than fifty yards from here and he texted me. Do you know what the message said?" I shook my head and resisted the temptation to say, 'of course I don't fucking know what it said. D'you think I'm Uri Fucking Geller or summat?'
"It said: 'Good morning, cunt. Fuck a stranger before your job interview. Sir'. How thoughtful of my Master to know that I needed for a cunt-full. As I reread the message, a man ambled by. 'Excuse me', I called after him, 'would you like to use my cunt?' Ha! He almost passed out. I strolled over to him and told him that it wasn't some sort of bizarre set-up. I had needs and a Master who saw to it that those needs were met.
"He looked absolutely, utterly shocked. He was an oldish man, perhaps late fifties, short grey hair, but very kind blue eyes. Smartly dressed, he was. My cunt, already wet, flooded. It opened in anticipation of his erection sliding up me. A nice man's spunk to have inside me while I talked to you."
Fuck me, I'm thinking, couldn't you have waited fifty yards and let me do the business? I say nothing because she's obviously getting into her story and I don't want to interrupt the flow, so to speak.
"'I…I…don't know,' he said. I moved closer. 'My Master sent me a text message,' I said by way of explanation. 'I can't fail him. And you look so sweet and kind. Here, read the message.' As he squinted at the mobile phone screen, I massaged his cock and balls. Despite the fact that he was hugely embarrassed by the number of people in the street, he grew hard. Of course, I didn't give a fuck about the people. After all, by the time my Master has done with me, I will have been fucked by most of the men…and would, no doubt, have licked and been licked by quite a few of the woman."
Nice one, I think to myself. Can't beat a bit of the old lesbo action, can you? I never said that, though, just asked her what happened next.
She smiled at me and carried on: "He was shaking but he nodded his head, just a tiny bit. He was clearly a little intimidated, so I took him by the hand and led him a few feet down the alley by the jewelers. I hoiked my skirt up, the poor love was shaking, and unzipped him. A nice circumcised cock sprang out. God, he was bug-eyed at the sight of my bald cunt. I was so wet and so open that he slid up me easily. He fucked me quickly, roughly, apologizing all the time. After no more than fifteen or sixteen strokes I felt him cum spurting inside me. Ah, heaven is a cunt full of spunk. Did you know that Stu. Stuart. Whatever? Still shaking, he zipped himself, kissed me clumsily on the mouth, and sped of like he expected me to ask for cash!"
I breathed out heavily. Jesus, Dave. What a slut! The bell rang just then and the first punter of the day came in. She stepped back coolly, raised an eyebrow and said: "And what would my boss like me to do first?"
