I was watching the back of the house on a Wednesday night, while Kelly was fucking this guy who lives just two doors down. He was a regular, so I didn't have to pay much attention. All I had to do was escort him to the back room inside this abandoned house where Kelly, disguised by the dim red light, heavy make-up and a wig fucked every guy she could within ten blocks of our Culdesac, modestly nestled in the suburbs of San Whogivesafuck.
I peeped in as he took off his clothes and lay down on the bed, without even a greeting. Kelly had started to prefer that, as opposed to the ritual 'Oh, hi, we're pretending there isn't money involved and this is somehow fun.' However, bluntness could lead to aggressive behavior. One guy did go too far, and I had to kick his ass, which actually scared the shit out of me, as I hadn't fully thought out how a bad date might go down. I know now, and I've been training at the martial arts studio to be better prepared.
Anyhow, I watched as Kelly's slender body slither across the clients' chest as she took his long and slender dick into her mouth. Her ass was in the hands of the client, and he was slurping away on her little asshole. Kelly's mouth bobbed up and down on his thin shaft, her hands twisting at the root of his dick. She glanced up at the door and saw me watching, and winked. While looking right at me she encouraged the man whose face was buried in her pussy, "...oooooh, fuck yeah, baby, shove that tongue up my ass....way up there, ooooyummmmm." Her moans were muted by the cock that she had placed back between her thick lips.
She was a natural born whore, and she loved making men cum, didn't need to be liked, but also didn't need to be loved. She had a hard enough life at the tender age of nineteen to know that nothing lasts, trust nothing, save it all. As Kelly, she's the ne'er-do-well cup-de-sac harrigan who can insult the boys better than the boys can insult themselves. When we disguise her up, and put her in the empty house that's been for sale for years, and tell all the guys I know she's a Prostitute from across town who visits now and then, we clear five thousand a week, on average. It's a culdesac in a suburb that's bored and horny. We know all the clients who don't know we know them. It's a classic pimp/whore relationship, except Kelly keeps 60% of the money, and she's my only worker, and we plan to cash out as soon as the summer is over. Me, back to school. Kelly, off to Vegas to get a spot in a high class brothel until she's 35.
And currently, by wiggling her ass in the face of a guy she grew up with while sucking on his dick, she was one step closer to that dream.
I walked away and went outside to smoke a cigarette. I didn't really smoke, but it helped me look imposing and cool while I played the part of Vernon Mangripp, local pimp. He's a blend of Starsky and Hutch, with some Samuel Jackson thrown because, well, he's Samuel Fucking Jackson. I even have a wallet wth 'Bad Mother Fucker' on it. I leaned against the back wooden fence, under the only light, a flickering yellow light which was hanging straight down on me, giving me a menacing, shadowy presence that helped keep the clients in line. As the smoke wreathed around my face and into the old, battered, sulfur-bulbed lamp above me, I saw someone come up the side of the house. We hadn't another appointment for two hours. I flicked the smoke away and reached into my coat, as if I had a weapon, which I didn't.
As the person got closer, the sulfur-yellow light revealed a girl, with shoulder length blonde hair split into pigtails. She had a curvy body, almost fat. She was wearing tight leggings with four inch heels and a blouse that was unbuttoned low, lower and lowest, openly displaying her ample 36D tits, that were held up and out by a lacy black open cup bra. She had a wide mouth, with thin lips, and a pug little nose. Her eyes were small, and brown...and suddenly I began to realize I knew this person.
"I know what's going on here." She said, her arms on her hips, her brazen pose ruined by her tremulously shaky balance on her high heels, her far too high heels. She clearly hadn't worn them before tonight, and I knew that because she was Wendy Fernstein, the former fat kid who lived up the block. She just had her Eighteenth birthday and was about to flunk out of her senior year in High School, totally pissing off her computer hacker nerd parents. She had lost weight and kept the tits, I assessed, and and reminded myself that as Vernon Mangripp, I did not know this person.
I coughed and kept my cool. "Ain't nothing going on, so go on home, little girl."
Her face grew outraged, and she pulled a ID out of a tiny little purse that swung from her shoulder. "I'm no little girl, asshole." Her ID did indeed prove she was 18. "Congratulations, bitch." I said flatly, in my deep Mangripp voice. "And you can take your 18 year old ass home with you right now. Good evening." I took one step forward, still leaving five feet between us. She twitched at my first footstep and then stumbled and fell backwards to the ground. She whimpered a bit, and had trouble getting back up as her pants were so tight. I walked over slowly and held out my hand. Pouting, she took it, and I pulled her up, and then I pulled her close to me, tightly pressing her curvy form against me, making her gasp in shock.
"I don't like women who play games." I said, laying down my best Clint Eastwood. I put my hand on her ass, which was meaty and luscious, far bigger than Kelly's athletic derriere. I squeezed it slightly, and before she could voice a protest I pulled back and then swatted her ass firmly, making her yelp. I took a quick mental check... yes, yes indeed! That is what Vernon Mangripp would do. I kept up the attitude with every word.
"That's for being all coy and shit, now state your business or fuck off."
I was still keeping her close to me, one hand on her ass, one on the small of her back. She was breathing hard, in short little gasps, and her cheap perfume was almost overpowering. I repeated my demand, almost growling. "State...your..business." I gave her another swat with the flat of my hand, just a little bit harder. She jerked closer to me, her pelvis unconsciously grinding up on my thigh.
"Someone's fucking for money in there!", she blurted out.
"And you're gonna tell the cops or something....?" I leaned in and brought my hand slowly up her back until I reached the back of her neck.
Her eyes looked around, confused. I could see she hadn't thought this out too far. I shook her neck just a little, and then the words poured out. She had overheard one of the boys talk about it and she was pissed off. "I've been blowing the boys and they don't pay me nothing!", was her final indignant pout. "It's not fair!" She stamped her foot hard, making her tits and ass jiggle.
I pulled back and took her chin in my hand. "I understand your frustration. So...you want to get paid?" I asked her point blank, staring at her through my sunglasses.
She gulped, and tried to keep her cool. "Yeah! I mean, yeah, sure...you know..." Her indignation was slowly melted by my looming face above her.
"How much?"
"Huh?"
"How much for a blowjob?"
"How much for a...blow...?"
"Woman, do not repeat my words back to me. Answer the question, how much for a blowjob?"
She stepped back, and her face squenched up real hard as she thought about it, and as her fingers twirled one of her pigtails, she peeped up with a faint, "Fifty bucks..."
I pulled a wad of cash out of my pocket. Peeled off a fifty, and slowly held it out. Her eyes flitted from the cash, then to my face, and then back to the cash. "What, like right here?", she asked, trying to sound brave and failing.
"Nope, just inside. You want to get paid? Show me why you should get paid." I rubbed the cash in my hand, and she licked her lips. She snatched the money away like a angry cat.
