Preamble
If you haven't read chapter one then this will make no sense at all. Seriously.
Enjoy
*********
As I made my way home from the brothel I thought about what I had done. There could be no doubt that I had 'fed the beast'. Even the most demanding of parasites would have to be satisfied after a meal like that. What is more, it was also clear that I would be more than welcome back at Xena's Massage Parlour; Sandra had talked about how there were discounts for regulars. On the other hand there was the sheer cost of the thing. If I scrimped and saved and lived off a diet consisting solely of beans on toast then, at a pinch, I could afford to go to Sandra maybe once a week. Certainly not every day. If the parasite wanted to go more often then it would have to find some way of paying for it.
So, now we were down to option two, trawling the lesbian clubs and getting myself picked up. I wasn't overjoyed at the prospect but options were slim on the ground and at least it would be cheap. If I played my cards right I wouldn't even have to pay for my drinks.
Of course, I ought to have discussed all this with the parasite to get it on board with my plans and, hopefully, avoid any embarrassing incidents. However, I was feeling tired and washed out and knew no other way of attracting its attention other than playing with myself and I wasn't up for that. I decided that, for the evening at least, I would let sleeping parasites lie and just snuggle up on the sofa and watch the soaps.
The next morning I woke bright and early and, after a light breakfast, I went to get a shower. You would have thought that, with all the mind-blowing orgasms I had had over the preceding days that I would be sexually exhausted but, as the warm water flowed over me, I couldn't help but think back and, somehow, I found myself soaping my breasts and groin a little more thoroughly than cleanliness alone required. In my mind I replayed Sandra's busy little tongue. God, she had been good. I had expected the sex to be cold and mechanical but her skill and determination to give me a good time had made it a memorable experience.
'You are performing the sex act again.'
'Well, duh!'
I should have known my favourite parasite would turn up the moment I touched myself
'You want to attract my attention again.'
'No, sometimes I do it just for pleasure but, seeing as how I have got your attention, we do need to discuss plans for tonight.'
'There is nothing to discuss. You will return to Sandra.'
'No can do. Sorry, I can't afford it.'
'You would be unwise to disobey my wishes.'
'If wishes were horses....'
'What is this nonsense?'
'It means that you can wish all you want but it doesn't change the fact that visiting Sandra costs money, money I just don't have. Trust me, she's a cash only sort of girl. Anyway, I have other plans for tonight.'
'Other plans? What do these plans consist of?'
'Going down to Queen Street tonight and cruising the pubs and clubs.'
The parasite rifled through my mind and picked out a number of memories. OK, so Queen Street isn't Manchester's Canal Street but it's where the LBGT community hangs out and as good a place to go hunting as any. Well, not exactly hunting; if anything I was going to be the prey, albeit a prey that wanted to get caught.
'And this will be better than going to Sandra?'
'I don't know about better. It will certainly be cheaper.'
'Very well. I will allow this but do not disappoint me. Now, we have talked enough. You must finish the sex act on yourself.'
'Can you help, please'
Immediately I felt that warm surge of pleasure. The parasite might be a pain in the arse but it sure knew which buttons to press. That, combined with the warm water still flowing over me, my busy fingers rubbing between my thighs and visions of PC Andrews, my current fave fantasy, and it wasn't long before my legs gave way and I ended up crouched in the corner, moaning in pleasure as the orgasm took me. OK, not the greatest orgasm I've ever had but as good a way to start the day as any.
When, come the evening, I got off the bus and started to make my way to Queen Street I remembered all the reasons why this might not be the best idea. I'd never been one for clubbing. Firstly there's the whole meat market thing. As far as I am concerned the whole club scene is about meeting people for shallow, meaningless sex. The music is so loud that there's no chance of any real conversation which means that it's all done on looks and that couldn't be more superficial. What's more, because you can't talk you end filling the gaps by drinking and that, all too easily, leads to ill judged one night stands with people you wouldn't look at twice when sober. Trust me, I know that one all too well.
But then, wasn't this exactly what I was here for? Shallow, meaningless sex with a virtual stranger who I might never see again. If I was going to feed the parasite then I was going to be in for plenty of that. Mind you, the virtual stranger bit wouldn't last long. The local scene isn't that big; there aren't that many of us and it's always the same ones cruising the bars looking for pick-ups. It wouldn't take more than a couple of visits before the word went round that Jane Hughes is a complete slut who will put out for anyone.
Still, I had a parasite to feed and was running out of options. Here I was in Queen Street, my short dress and tee shirt just the right side of slutty and ready to go. It was time to make my move. I picked the least obnoxious of the clubs, went in and made my way to the bar. I ordered a vodka and coke and sat there, trying to strike a balance between looking available and looking desperate.
I didn't have long to wait. Although I was sitting at the bar the décor depended heavily on mirrors and I was able to watch the rest of the club without turning around and being too obvious. I'd already spotted a group of women sitting together and noted that they were looking at me. One even pointed in my direction, unaware that I was watching in the mirror. After a while she stood up and came over and leant on the bar next to me.
