I’ve seen you here many times before. I’ve seen you walking up and down this street night after night. I know what you are doing. Everybody knows what you are doing. You can’t hide it, everything about you screams “Whore!”

Your tiny short skirt, stretched over your arse, barely covering your pussy. A tramp stamp peeking out from under the waistband. Your tight, shiny boob tube top over your firm, fake tits. Heels so high you can barely walk in them and have to take tiny, little, tentative steps. You have a toe ring on one foot and an anklet on the other. Cheap, fake jewellery. Dark hair, obviously dyed. You are covered in fake tan, giving your skin an almost orange glow. And your make-up, wow, I’ve never seen it caked on so thick. Dark lip liner and light pink lipstick. Bright eye-shadow below your painted on eyebrows. Fake eyelashes. What a fucking tart.

Despite all this, underneath the bimbo exterior, I can tell you are pretty. Or at least you were once. Beautiful even. But now you are just a trashy prostitute, walking up and down the street, trying to sell your mouth, cunt and arse. You’re probably addicted to crack, or meth, or whatever the fuck street whores are taking these days. I don’t give a shit.

I’ve been thinking about you since the first time I saw you. I’ve wanted to approach you every time I past by, but I always bottled it at the last moment. Not tonight though. Tonight I’m going to have you. I have a small wad of notes in my jacket pocket. About five hundred quid, but I doubt I’ll need all of it. A cheap little slut like you won’t cost so much for an hour or two. Once I’m done with you, you’ll be walking the streets again and I’ll be back home with my wife.

I pull up at the curb. As you are walk towards me, I stare at you to make it absolutely obvious what I want. I haven’t just stopped to ask for directions, I’m a customer.

You throw your cigarette on the ground. It was nearly finished anyway. You trot over to my car and lean into the window. I can smell the tobacco smoke on you and you are clearly wearing too much perfume. I don’t care, it turns me on.

“Hi,” you say. “Are you looking for business?”
“How much?” I ask.
“It depends what you want. Two fifty for an hour.”

I just look at you. It’s getting cold outside. I know I can get you for much cheaper than two hundred and fifty quid an hour. Nobody gives you that much. Not these days anyway.

“Ok, one fifty,” you say. “Nothing up the arse.”
“One fifty for two hours and I fuck you up the arse.”

You snort at me and stand up straight. You mumble something to yourself then open the door and get in.

I look at you for a second or two. Even though you’re covered in fake tan, I can see that your skin is going red and blotchy and you have goose bumps from the cold. You are a bit pissed off with me, you didn’t want to sell yourself this cheap, but at least you’ll be inside for a while. But you don’t understand what I’ve got in store for you. This is going to be the hardest hundred and fifty quid you’ve ever made.

Now that you are close to me in the closed car, the musky smell of stale sweat joins the aromas of smoke and perfume. I guess that you haven’t showered in a couple of days and that top hasn’t been washed for weeks possibly. You probably think that perfume masks the smell. Some men would be put off by it. For me it just adds to the experience. I wanted a dirty whore and I got one. I wonder what your cunt is going to smell like?

I drive round the corned to a cheap hotel. Before we get out of the car you turn to me and say, “Money first”. I tell you money in the room. I’m not worried that you’ll run away with it. You’re not running anywhere in those shoes. I just want you to know that I’m in control. I say what happens and when.

I’ve already checked in, so we don’t need to go to reception. I’ve been planning this for days. However that doesn’t stop the receptionists staring, or the people at the bar. It goes quiet as you totter across the floor towards the lift. They know exactly what we’re up to. A blind man could see what was going on. You don’t mind the attention though. You love it when people stare at you. Why else would you have tarted yourself up like this? People who don’t want to be noticed don’t look like you. Not a single pair of eyes leaves you as we wait an absurd amount of time for the lift.

The doors open and a man steps out. He is visibly stunned by your appearance. He pauses for a moment and looks you up and down. He’s not sure if he should say something. We step round him into the lift.

Once the doors close you notice that my cock is stiff and making a bulge in my trousers. It might not be huge, but it is big. You reach over and give it a cheeky squeeze. You are a prostitute, you aren’t supposed to love cock so much. You’re meant to put up with it for the money. Especially when you’re being paid so little. But the slut in you can’t help it. You are a natural whore and you know it. You’d be sucking the same amount of cock if you didn’t need the money. The only difference is you’d choose the cocks instead of taking any passer by willing to pay.

When the doors open I grab your wrist and lead you down the corridor to the room. The lighting is dim and the décor is dark. I wouldn’t usually stay in a hotel like this, but a cheap whore like you doesn’t deserve anything better. Besides at a decent place they might say something about bringing such an obvious working girl back with me. They’re used to it at this place, there’s no need to be discreet.

It’s a simple room with a small bathroom. Clean enough. Certainly cleaner than you. There’s a double bed, a chair and a television on the wall. Without saying a word you head straight for the mini bar, unscrew the cap on a miniature bottle of Smirnoff and down it it one.

“Help yourself,” I say.

You ignore me and sit down on the chair with your knees together. I take out all the money from my pocket so you can see that I could easily give you the two fifty you had asked for. I count out five twenty pound notes and five tenners. I hand you £150 exactly. I shove the rest back in my pocket. Strangely, in the dim hotel light, with that sad, dejected look on your face, your natural beauty shines out from behind all that fake tan, make-up and hair dye. I almost feel bad. I nearly feel sorry for you. Maybe deep down I really do. But it’s not enough to stop me from doing what I’m going to do.

I go into the bathroom to piss. I shake it off, but don’t bother to wash my cock or my hands. I leave my trousers open. When I come back into the room you’ve lit a cigarette. You flick the ash onto the carpet and rub it in with your shoe. I walk over to you with my semi-hard, pissy cock. I grab you by the hair and pull your head towards it. In one fluid motion you take the whole thing into your mouth. A true professional. I keep hold of your hair and hold you in place. You suck and swallow as my dick grows bigger and harder in your throat. You gag and choke. Thick spit bubbles out from your mouth and around my shaft, but you can take it. Most couldn’t, but it’s what you do. You are a cock hungry slut.

When I feel that I’m fully erect I pull your head back and allow you to breath. You gasp and cough. Your spit drips down your chin and onto your chest. You still have the cigarette gripped between two fingers. I take it from you and drag on it myself. Then I bring it close to your face as I exhale the smoke. You are still panting from being choked. You look at the glowing red hot tip. You look scared, but don’t scream or tell me not to. You are resigned to it. I bring it close to your eye…then I throw it away. I’m not interested in scaring your face. You’ll do plenty of that in the future with unnecessary surgeries when you finally find a rich man to take you away from this life. That man isn’t me. I’m here to use you. Not like all the rest, but ten times worse.

I know I’ve got you now. I know you’re mine. I know that I can use you however I want and you’ll let me. At least I know you can’t stop me. I let go of your hair and lean back on the foot of the bed. You shuffle over on your knees and kneel between my legs. You take my shoes and trousers off without being told. You know what I want. Perhaps you think that if you get me off quickly I won’t be able to perform again and you’ll get off easy. Perhaps you just really love cock.

I lie back and let you get to work. I usually trim my pubic hair, but I haven’t in a while, it’s starting to get a bit too long. I left it like that for you on purpose. The hair collects a person’s aroma and I want you to smell me, really taste me. I can smell you clearly enough. You don’t seem to mind it though. You gaze at my glistening prick with an almost hungry look in your eyes.

You kiss the dark pink almost purple head. You expertly curl your tongue over and around it. You’ve done this more times than you can count. You kiss and lick your way down my thick, veiny shaft to my balls. The spit smears the make-up on your face. Your heavy mascara is starting to run down your cheeks. You look a fucking mess and it turns me on more.

You kiss my balls. You caress them with your tongue, coating them with your sticky saliva. You gently suck on my them. Most girls can’t do this properly, it ends up being uncomfortable, but you’ve got it down. You know how to handle a man’s balls.

I tell you to suck me. You lick your lips and put my shiny, bulbous cock head in your mouth and push it deep inside. Not all the way, but deep enough for now. You work at a steady pace, bobbing your head up and down, taking me nice and deep each time. You don’t go too quickly. You aren’t trying to get me off straight away. You don’t even use your hands to help you. You are holding tightly onto my thighs. I’d swear you’re enjoying it.

I let you do your own thing for a while. Sucking and slurping, dribbling over my balls, spit dripping off your chin. I can feel my orgasm getting closer and closer with every movement of your head. I’m close to coming. I grab your hair again and yank your head down onto my cock. It’s deep in your throat. You chin is on my balls and your nose is buried in my pubic hair. I surprised you. You panic a little. Your eyes fill up with tears and you choke.

You gag as I pump your head up and down. I’m holding your hair, it hurts, but that’s not your main problem. You’re more worried about my dick slamming into the back of your throat and gagging you. Snot is bubbling up in your nose. You can’t breath. You’re going to be sick. So much is happening at once. You start to panic, but you can’t get away. You push at my legs but I’m too strong and I’ve got a tight grip.

Suddenly, at last, I pull you down on me one final time and thrust my hips upwards. I clench my teeth and grunt loudly as my cock explodes with a massive load of hot spunk. I hold you down as I empty my balls into you. I don’t know what you are feeling now. I don’t care. You may as well not exist to me now. This moment is all about me. I hold you there for a few seconds more, then I loosen my grip.

You straighten up, gasping for air. You struggle to your feet. You are still wearing those ridiculous shoes. You stumble to the bathroom, your head is spinning. So is mine. From the tops of my thighs to my naval I am covered in a mixture of cum, spit, and snot. It’s on the bed and there is a small puddle of it on the floor.

I take my shirt off and follow you into the bathroom. You are kneeling over the toilet bowl retching and spitting. I wipe myself down with a towel. Once you finish, you sit on the toilet and stare up at me with a vacant stare. You don’t bother to complain. You don’t say anything at all. Who knows what you are thinking now? Who knows if you are even capable of thought? I have a feeling that you’ve done that before. I’m not the first man to have fucked your face like that.

Your make-up is all over your face. The mascara has run all the way down to your jaw. The lipstick is almost completely rubbed off. You look disgusting, but at the same time oddly beautiful. More beautiful than the first time I saw you. I give you the towel. There are plenty of clean ones one the rail, but you use it anyway.

Back in the room I take out a beer from the mini-bar. I give you one of those small bottles of white wine. I sit down on the chair. You crawl onto the bed. You drink the wine straight out of the bottle. I’m naked, but you are still wearing your shoes, skirt and top. Both garments have large wet patches. I look at you as I sip my beer. You play with your hair and look around the room. There’s not much to look at.

You ask for another cigarette.
“You’re not allowed to smoke in here,” I tell you.
“Oh, Fuck off!” is your response.

I chuckle. I take one out of the packet that was in my jacket and light it. I throw the rest of the packet and the lighter over to you. As we smoke we both flick ash an the floor. The room is warm and the acrid smoke makes the atmosphere thick and heavy.

When you finish your wine and cigarette you look at me and say, “So what do you want to do now?”

“Get undressed, but keep the shoes on.”

You slip your skirt down your legs and over your heels. Then pull the top off. You’re just wearing a tiny black thong now.

“The panties too,” I tell you. You comply without a word and adopt a sexy pose on the bed. I can see your narrow strip of pubic hair.

I drop my dog end into the empty beer can.

“Now fuck yourself with the wine bottle.”

You don’t look shocked. I think you were expecting it.

You pick up the discarded bottle and lie back on the bed. You rub your pussy to try and get yourself wet. After a few seconds you spit into your hand and rub it into your cunt. You filthy, little bitch. You were made for porn. Normal people don’t behave like this.

You slowly slide the bottle inside yourself. The neck goes in easily, getting past the shoulder is a bit tougher. Not too tough for you though, we both know you could probably take a full size wine bottle. Your load gasp as the body enters you is just for show. Your pussy squelches as you push the makeshift dildo in and pull it out of your now dripping wet cunt. I watch transfixed. I would’ve paid £250 just to watch this. My flaccid prick starts to twitch again.

I’m soon fully erect. I’m ready to fuck. But not just yet. I don’t want to just shove my dick in you. I want to draw this out. I want to make it last. I want to do everything I’ve fantasised about since the day I first saw you walking the streets. I stand up and walk over to the bed, never taking my eyes off the bottle as it goes in and out of your hole.

Standing at the foot of the bed I have a close up view. From here I can smell your pussy. It’s nowhere near as bad as I thought it would be. You probably rinse it out after each customer. I scan every inch of you with my eyes. Up your legs to the bottle filled pussy. Up your torso to your round, fake tits. I look at your face. Your eyes are closed and you’re biting your lip. My eyes go back down your body to your feet. I take the shoes off one at a time and drop them next to the bed.

I pick up your left foot. You continue to fuck yourself. Your toes are painted pink, but a little chipped. I put your foot up to my face and breath in the pungent aroma. It’s intoxicating. My cock gets even stiffer. I kiss the ball of your foot. There is a patch of hard skin there from wearing high heels for years. I kiss the toes, then I suck them. First just the big toe, adding the other four one by one. You don’t stop fucking yourself.

I take your foot out of my mouth and get up on the bed. I take your hand off the bottle. You open your eyes and look at me. I push it in and out of you a few times, then I pull it all the way out. It’s covered in your sticky white discharge. I look at it for a couple of seconds. Then I lick it. I think that shocked you a bit. Your eyes widened and I heard you gasp.

I dive down between your legs and clamp my mouth around your cunt. Yes, I’m eating your pussy. I’m licking out a whore. I’m licking where countless men have put there cocks. I drive my tongue deep inside and lick long and hard. I suck on and bite the labia and your clit. You don’t have a really beefy pussy, but it’s big enough. The smell is much stronger here. Normally it would make me gag, but not tonight. Tonight it just gets me harder.

I push your thighs up and apart. I bury my face right into you. I even shove my tongue up your arsehole. You can’t contain you’re pleasure. You don’t even try to hide it. You come, screaming theatrically. I don’t stop. I keep eating your whore cunt. You have to push my head away saying,

“That’s enough, that’s enough. Please stop!”

I come up for air. You lie there breathing heavily. I stare at you. My cock is raging. I’m ready to fuck you now. I climb on top of you and poke you with my engorged prick. You quickly grab it.

“No. You can’t fuck me without a johnny!”

“Fuck off,” is my response.

You give in. You know this is going to happen whether you agree to it or not. I thrust my hips forward and you guide me in, into your soft, wet cunt. There is nothing quite like the first thrust into a woman. That warm feeling as it envelops me. It almost seems like your cunt is drawing my cock into you.

We are face to face. Missionary position. You are strangely tight considering you just had a bottle inside you, not to mention all dick you’ve had in your life. You raise your legs up so I can get deeper. I haven’t had my face so close to yours before. I can smell the cigarette smoke clinging to your hair. Your heavy, sickly perfume. The alcohol on your breath. I can even smell your make up, even though much of it has been rubbed off. And of course the rank stench of your stale sweat. I can still clearly taste your grool in my mouth. I’m a little dizzy from the sensory overload. Any normal person would feel sick. But I’m not a normal person tonight. Normal people don’t do what I’m doing, what we’re doing.

I look into your eyes. Still vacant. No glimmer of intelligence. I kiss you. Deep and hard with my tongue. For a second or two you are taken aback. You didn’t think I was going to do this. However you reciprocate and kiss me back, sliding your tongue past mine and into my mouth. I am rock hard in your pussy, but not thrusting. You have have your legs wrapped round me. We hold each others heads as we keep kissing, on and on. Time passes. I don’t know how much. It could be seconds, it could be minutes. I can’t tell. I’m totally in my own head. I’m high on whore.

Eventually we break. I grab both your arms and hold them above your head. You gasp. I slam myself deep into you. It hurts. It hurts us both, but I don’t care. I do it again. Pull my hips up and slam down again. Slowly up. Slam down. Pause. Slowly up. Slam down. I fuck your hard and slow. Harder than I’ve ever fucked anyone before. Even harder than you’ve been fucked before. Each slam knocks the air out of you. You try to pull me into you with your legs. Anything to stop me from smashing into you. But I’m too powerful. I pull your leg from around me and hook it with my arm. I’m strong enough to hold both your arms down with one hand. It’s painful for us both. This isn’t sex it’s something else. It’s punishment. I’m punishing us both. You cry out in pain with every agonising thrust. I just grunt like some kind of rutting animal.

Eventually I stop. I can’t keep up that level of intensity any longer. I relax my grip on your arms. They are bruised. I let go of your leg. Your body is limp underneath mine. I didn’t come. My prick is still turgid inside of you. I lie on top of you. You don’t have the strength to push me off. My hips hurt. My muscles ache. I’m breathing heavily.

There is still one last thing I’ve planned to do with you. You agreed to it by getting in my car. I raise myself up. My strength is coming back to me now. I withdraw from your cunt and flip you over. You aren’t heavy so can I do it easily will one hand. You know what’s coming next.