She walks slowly out of the shadows to the sidewalk. It's just about time for the bars to close, so there will be a lot of horny men driving up and down the street soon. If she works everything right, she just might make enough tonight to hold her over for a few days.
Passing a closed shop, she catches a glimpse of her reflection in the window. At 22 she still has a nice body. Her face is still attractive, and her figure is... well, thin. Crack has a way of doing that to you. Maybe some of these diet freaks should look into it as a diet aid. Sometimes she worries how long she can live like this. Even though she still has her looks, she knows that will fade fast on the street. Hell, already she can notice lines that weren't there on her face before. She wonders what life would be like if she had never tried crack. Where would she be now? Maybe just out of college, with a good job, a home... She turns away from the window. Wondering what life might have been like is useless. She had tried crack, loved it, and got hooked almost overnight. And now she's here, following after her master, the little white rock.
A small dark car drives past and she can tell the guy driving is looking her over. Expressionless, she makes eye contact with him as he slowly drives past. He disappears around the corner, but she knows he'll be back. That's the way this game plays out.
In less than three minutes he pulls back around the corner. Stopping on the street near her he pops the passenger door open. Silently she gets in. She can tell that he's leering at her like a dog looks at a piece of meat. She speaks the first words. "Evening officer. Time for your donut break yet?"
"What the fuck are you talking about?" he shouts back. "I'm not a cop!" Staring right through him she replies "Prove it." When he hesitates she says "Pull your dick out so I can see it, or I'm out of here." as she reaches for the door handle. If he really turns out to be a cop she plans to bail out and run.
As he reaches down to fumble with his zipper, she tells him to start driving or someone might get suspicious of them. When he turns the corner he says "Here. Now do you think I'm a cop?" The car is too dark to see clearly, so she reaches over and feels the tip of his exposed dick. Pulling back, she lifts her sweatshirt to reveal her breast. "OK. Now touch this." This ritual was necessary, unless you didn't mind getting busted. And right now, that would be a real pain in the ass.
After the preliminaries are over and she feels a little safer, she asks "OK. What are you looking for?" Actually, she already pretty much knows the answer. Most of the guys coming down here are married and on the way home. They usually want what they can't get there: a blowjob. And that suits her just fine. Giving head is easy (the way she does it) and fast. Take the money, do the deed, get the fuck on with the next trick.
Some guys want to fuck, but not usually. There's more money in that, but more risk. Once, a trick had wanted to fuck in the back of his van. She named a high price because he wanted her to take off all of her clothes, a risky move. But there was no protection when he went crazy in the back of the van. A black eye, some broken ribs, fucked like an animal, and thrown out without her clothes... And the worst part was that he kept the cash which she had placed inside her shoe. Damn, he kept the shoes, her clothes, everything. A passing police car stopped, and she reported her abduction and rape. But they didn't seem interested, gave her a blanket out of the trunk and a ride back to where she came from. They knew the story too well.
