Play Hooer

PLAY HOOKER

by

TRISTAN TROTSKY & IMIGIRRST

You stand on the midnight corner. Short skirt slit down the side. Plunge neckline, no bra. Every inch a street-angel from the centrefold. I'm the curb-crawling prowler. The predator. The stranger in the low-slung black car.

'You doing business, Girl?'

'What you have in mind, kind sir?'

'Read me the menu of today's specials.'

'I do oral, anal, vaginal. I do doggy, missionary, cowgirl. I do light-bondage. What do you have in mind?'

'How much for a sweet blowjob? Your lips look so inviting.'

'£25, deep-throat, face-fuck or your choice.'

'Climb in beside me, said the spider to the fly.' I slant the passenger door open.

'As I recall, it's the spider who gobbles the fly. Perchance sir mixes his metaphors?'

You climb inside. You catch the in-car radio rhythms as I catch the aroma of your perfume. I pull away into traffic, aware of your warm closeness.

'Am I your first client today?'

'Why would you even imagine such a thing?'

I shrug. 'You've maybe got a pimp? You have a client fuck-quota to reach?'

'No-one owns me. No-one tells what to do. I freelance. Because those designer shoes don't buy themselves.'

I laugh as I pull into the city-centre multi-story carpark, spiral up level after level to the fifth floor. Motorvate down betwixt aisles of parked autos, until there's a shadowed alcove-space up against the wall on one side, with a big SUV on the other. I cut around, check mirrors, and reverse into the vacancy. Pull the handbrake on as I turn the engine off. The radio amber light glows music streams. There's no-one else in sight. No movement.

I turn to you and smile, unclip the seatbelt and ease the seat recliner back. Unzip my pants ready.

You click your fingers, rub thumb across the palm of your hand, indicating cash.

'You don't do contact-free card? I guess not.' I count notes across to you. 'I suppose contact-free is not an option in your line of business?'

You smile, half-laughing at my joke, then brush hair back from your face, squirm around in the bucket-seat, lower your head into my groin. I gasp as your lips close in around the head of my cock. I know this is going to be £25 well-spent...

You're thinking 'I'm a damn good value and I know it. 'Cos I seldom let on how much I adore this part of my side hustle. Don't have time in my life for a regular boyfriend, never mind one that's needy or indecisive. Yet still I'm horny as fuck. And I love to fuck. My menu always reflects what I'm in the mood for on any given day. Blowjobs are always a high-frequency request. They're easy money, 'cos I love to suck cock. Well, most cocks. I don't have the biggest mouth, so I have to strain to accommodate the ones that are way bigger than big.'

My hands come down on either side of your head, holding you in place as I buck my hips, fucking my cock deeper into your mouth. You squirm and wriggle but I'm holding you tight. You can't escape. I'm too strong for you. You make gurgling choking sounds in the back of your throat as I thrust, then your body loses all resistance as you seem to accept the inevitability of what's about to happen. I love the sensation of having power over you, and force your head down into my groin until you've taken every inch of my cock down your throat. Your nose pressed up against my nest of public hair, trickles of saliva drooling down over my balls. You begin to suck more hungrily with a crude desperation, as though you're either getting turned on by my face-fucking, or else you've decided that your best hope is to make me cum as quickly as you can, and get it over with...

You're thinking, 'And did I mention I love sucking cock? Especially older men. I don't have to wonder if I can get them to cum before I wear out. And I love these types for a couple of different reasons. The locker room has convinced guys with average cocks that they're actually small. So I can give them a bit of their self-esteem back when they push my limit in getting them in. Still, I've managed to figure out a technique to work them pretty far down, as long as my transient myocardial ischemia doesn't act up! It's a point of pride to get that far down. I'm not satisfied until my lips hit their groin. Okay, sure, the girls who work a lot more than I do get the bigger cocks down, but for a part-timer, I do reasonably good. And I'm enjoying myself.

'I know something you don't know. I enjoy cocks, they fit in my mouth so snug -- and I feel so much power when I'm taking that cock in all the way to the groin -- and when it starts going down my throat. It's true that your airway shares a path with your oesophagus. I almost panicked the first time a cock blocked off my airway. It's a lot easier to do that when my head is hanging back off the bed -- no wonder the ancient Romans said that position was one of submission. I only allow my regulars to fuck my face that way, because I know they have no desire to actually kill me. You never know with a john you just pick up off the street.'

I pause, holding my cock lodged in your mouth as there's movement in the autodrome outside. A family is strolling past my parked car, laden with carrier-bags branded with Big Store logos from their city-mall shopping expedition, they are laughing and talking to each other.

You continue sucking my cock with urgency, seizing the relaxation of pressure of my hands on your head to use your oral expertise in ways that make me groan with pleasure despite my attempts to remain silent. The family-man looks around curiously, wondering where the sound has come from... then ignores it and walks on towards where their car is parked...

You're thinking 'My most favourite way of contributing to the world are catering to older cocks, I'm a Sister of Mercy, a benefactor to cocks with Erectile Dysfunction issues. A lot of people don't realize, a guy doesn't have to be hard to cum. And so many of their wives can't be bothered to blow them anymore. It can be challenging giving a hand job to those miniature shrivelled wrinkled little cocks, it can be done, but you have to master the skill first. I'll give a hand job if requested, but I'd much rather feel that limp cock in my mouth. I turn myself into a human pump, sucking so hard I can see how long this cock wants to be. Sometimes I can induce a little rigor but not nearly enough for anything else. But I love watching the crawling ecstasy devouring him, as I suck him into paradise.

'Sometimes, he'll open his eyes and look down at me with his cock stuffed in my mouth. I always try to look back with desire, following through on his fantasy that he's twenty years younger, that he doesn't have any issues, that he's the stud he is in his mind. He'll almost always put a hand on my head at this point, to start making me go faster. It's even odds whether he'll lace his fingers in my hair, and about three to one that he'll grab my hair to pull it. About four to one that he'll fuck my face. Sometimes it will be tentative where he'll ask. Sometimes his hips take on a life of their own, and just start to rock back and forth. Sometimes it's furious, like he can't get enough of my wetness, like it's been too long since he fucked a face -- and that's not too far from the truth. He'll use my mouth like it was a vagina. Pounding away at it, my mouth straining to keep up, my mind furiously trying to find the pattern of his thrusts so I can breathe between them. Sometimes I can't in spite of my experience, so I have to push back on his legs in order to gasp from the depth of my lungs for that precious air, my spit dripping from the side of my mouth.

'Sometimes I can barely get a deep breath when he shoves his stiffened shaft back in my mouth again, hard and deep. But I'm no better at getting air. So I go to push him back, but he holds my head, steady. 'I know you can take this, baby. You love it. You love it when I fuck your pretty face hard and deep.' I war with myself, as he pushes himself in deep, and then pulls out quick, where I gasp and gag, my lungs acting like bellows.

'Again,' he demands, slapping his cock up against my cheek. He grabs me by the hair, tilts my head back, 'Tell me you love it,' just after he rams his cock back into my mouth. He pushes in just a little more, just that little more that makes me panic because my airway is cut off. He jiggles my head, 'Look at me,' he demands, 'right up here,' forcing my eyes to meet his. 'You know how pretty you look with my cock in your mouth?' He caresses my cheek, then my throat, pushing on it, where I can feel his cock up against the topside of my throat. It makes me panic even more. I can't get air...

'Tell me you love this... I wanna hear you say it,' he coaxes. How can I talk with my mouth full of prick? Throbbing so I can feel his heart racing along its heavy length. But I know he won't let me out until I do. So I try, watching his face take even more pleasure. 'Yeah, baby, that feels so good... here's your reward,' pulling out. I buckle, gagging again for air, sure I'll never get enough again.'

The slurpy sounds you're making as you suck me are incredibly arousing, I'm bucking up against you with involuntary hip fuck-movements, my grip on your head loosens as control begins slipping away, but you just keep on sucking hungrily as though you're lost in what you're doing. I can't hold, maybe I should just cum in your mouth?

'Look up,' he demands again. I don't because I'm still getting air. He grabs my hair again. 'I said look up.' He sounds perturbed. I'm barely aware that the hand that isn't pulling me up to meet his eyes is holding onto his cock, directing it...'

I grunt with helpless strangulated anguish, and shoot a jet of spunk across your face, warm sensations detonating up from my groin.

'A split second after he tilts his head back, I feel the streams of warmth hit my face. One hits my eye. I automatically open my mouth to catch any that lands there, in a series of dirty gulping noises. But there isn't much. He wants it on my face. He grunts, bucking his hips as the last ribbons hit my nose.'

A second and third ejaculation creams across your mouth, drooling and dribbling you with rich pulses of orgasm. Although I'm no longer holding your head, you keep mouthing my messy cock, less intensely than before. Finally, you lift your head from my groin, my wet cock slipping limply from your mouth. I'm gasping and relaxing back into the plush upholstery.

He looks down at me again, 'So pretty with my cum on your face...' He reaches for his cell phone.

I pipe up, 'Pictures are ten extra...'

He clicks a couple, first with me just looking at him, then with my mouth open. He lets go of my hair, to start smearing his cum into my face. I can tell he's videoing it.

'This is gonna make your skin so nice and smooth, you know that?' he coos.

'Yes,' I agree, because the customer is always right.

'You love this, don't you?'

You smile across at me. Rummage in your clutch-bag for a tissue and wipe your mouth delicately, using the rearview mirror to assist you, as I tuck my spent cock away gingerly, and zip up.

'Fuck, that was incredible.' My voice husky with sensory overload. 'I'll drop you off on the corner where I picked you up.'

'Pleased to be of service, Sir.' With just the teasing hint of insolent humour.

I slip the car into gear and pull out of the fifth-floor parking bay, out between the aisles of silent cars and back towards the street.

'Oh!... and bring a pizza in with you when you get home, Darling. That £25 with the £10 photo-bonus I gave you will be more than enough to cover the cost.'

'Fine' you say. 'See you later, Honey...'

'In the deep of night, after I collect my extra ten and exit his vehicle, as I teeter along in the sickly light of the streetlamp. That's the crux of the way it is for me. I'm only supposed to be doing this for the money. To pay the electric bill -- which has gotten astronomical since the war started. That's what I tell myself when I'm getting ready to go out. I contemplate if I'm going to go back to my starting point. He dropped me off near our apartment and it beckons me. I'm exhausted, from how rough he treated me. That's what I keep telling myself anyway. But the shadows taunt me with the truth. We are human. We have unexpressed desires and a natural curiosity that monogamy can't always satisfy. We should all be much more accepting.

I do love it. And I'm exhausted because I'm spent. Sated. Satisfied. I don't remember having an orgasm, but the moistness in my panties sure feels like I did... Yes, I do love it, I admit to myself reluctantly, as I push in the entry door of our flat. I don't even care if the neighbours see me, though it's more likely they'll smell the jizz still wet on my face.

And I'll do it again. Waiting for the curb-crawling prowler. The predator. The stranger in the low-slung black car. Cause this good girl loves to be bad.

BY TRISTAN TROTSKY & IMIGIRRST