'That's the best needle you'll ever get, you fuckin' slut.'
He pulled his jeans up and looked down at her as she struggled to untie the knot her panties were getting into around her cheap and glorious fuck me stilettos.
She looked up at him and stared. She did not hate them anymore, but she did not like them either. It was pure economics. She immunised herself with heroine, but she always needed more. Drugs, like sex: you always need more. That was why she was kneeling in One Lamp Alley playing cat's cradle with her knickers while a man she had met twenty minutes before was standing over her pulling up his jeans while his cock stuck out of the fly of his boxers at half mast looking at her like a little viper that had eaten something that agreed with it. It was dry like a real snake, but for the little of her saliva that was not still inside her otherwise equally arid cunt. She had taken him to some paradisiacal hell, in a dirty alleyway between two Victorian houses in a back street in the hinterlands beyond King's Cross Station. This was her boudoir and the backstreet was where she initiated her speed dates.
His jeans now back where they are supposed to be, he remembered that he was supposed to be a human being and took a roll of notes from his pocket. Then he looked at her and forgot again.
You're a fuckin' good whore junkie,' he said 'you're so good I'm gonna give you a tip.'
'Thanks' she said and feigned a smile. It looked like a real one
He handed her another ten pound note. That made forty in total.
About twenty two minutes earlier she has been prowling her strip when he walked up. Usually they came in cars, but for the occasional pedestrian she had her boudoir. She preferred it to getting in cars. The car was his place; the boudoir hers.
It was late and she had done five already since nine when she had come out and begun her shift. He had walked past the few other girls still out and come to her. When he had seen her, his eyes had lit up like cheap little neon fairground lights. It was the meanest of pleasures; to be the chosen one.
He had walked up and come straight to the point.
'How much?'
'Twenty'
'For what?'
'I'll suck you off and then you fuck me. No kissing.'
'Where?'
'There's an alley round the corner. It's quiet. No one will disturb us.'
'Ok'
'Follow me. Give me the money when we get there.'
One minute later they were in the alley.
'Under the streetlamp' he said 'I want to be able to see you.'
She led him. She leant him against the wall and stood in front of him; foot or so between them. He was a little taller than her and maybe ten years older, but she looked older than him. She was twenty seven and she had been a heroin addict since she was sixteen and a prostitute since seventeen.
'I wanna bareback you.'
'No, you have to use a condom.'
He didn't protest.
She pulled her leather jacket off of her shoulders, undid her shirt and unclipped her bra. She always wore a front loader. It made things easier.
His cock finished hardening in his jeans at the sight of her tits. They were small and each had a home drawn tattoo on it. On the right one was a faded rose, which she had done years ago. On the left one was scrawled the word 'skank' in dark ink. It was darker and more recent. Her skin was the colour of soured milk. Her nipples pointed out and both of them were pierced with sleepers.
'Have you got Aids?' he said.
'Have you?'
No'
'Pull on a ring with your teeth.' she said.
He lent forward and put his tongue into the ring and pulled. Her tit stretched towards his mouth. Then he bit the ring and pulled harder. By the time the pulling began to hurt he had his cock in her hand and she could have pulled that hard until it hurt, but she didn't. She could bite it viciously later, but she wouldn't. With the cock nested in her hand, its underside in her palm, she pulled the foreskin back and forth and slowly the pulling on the ring subsided as he found his pleasure and lost his desire to hurt her.
He raised his head up and stared at her. She looked back without seeing him. She was thinking that he was not a bad punter. He had money and he was not going to get violent. She had developed an instinct and she had never been wrong. He probably had a good job and a girlfriend or a wife and played some kind of sports on the weekends. She knew too that she was not his first street girl. She had learned the language of the street and she could smell the changes in the air, and here was a respectable man who had a taste for the gutter and liked to pretend to be nasty.
So she made an effort. He would be worth cultivating. She slowed the motion of her hand and wanked him slowly, as though she was enjoying doing it and whispered up to him 'I like your cock baby. It's nice in my hand.'
'How many cocks you had up you tonight?'
She had him figured. 'You're the sixth, but I really wanna feel your cock in my pussy.'
'You filthy diseased cunt. You love six cocks a night, don't you. You fuckin' need 'em, you smacked up slut.'
'I know what I am' she said blankly, 'but tell me, tell me again,' with a little faked eagerness.
'Your cunt loves cocks like your veins love heroin.'
'What's your heroin?'
'You are, you Aids ridden skank.'
'That's what it says on my tit. That's me. So is the rose. Rose is my name. And skank is what I am; a filthy cock worshipping, sewer whore.'
'You're not a rose. You're poison ivy.'
He was kneeling before him now and about to suck his cock. 'Tell me what I am while I gobble your dick.'
'Suck my knob, you depraved slag.'
But it did not excite her.
It was exciting him and she felt that he was going to cum. It was strictly cum once, as quickly as she could bring them off and get rid of them. But she kept sucking and in a few moments his spunk was spurting into her mouth. She withdrew her mouth from his cock and gobbed the cum out onto the concrete.
She felt confused. Why had she carried on sucking until he had spunked in her mouth? She did not mind the johns spunking in her mouth and she barely even tasted it anymore; so much of it had been shot in there over the years. But he had paid to fuck her as well and it was strictly cum once. She had screwed up on her timing and she was angry with herself. She had some professional pride. She glanced up at him and he looked confused too. He did not know whether to feel pleased with the excellence of her blow job or angry at being cheated out of her cunt.
