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Jackie speaks: He came to have his fuck on the way home from work in his navy blue T-Shirt. He looked like my old man. It was a bit off. He said he almost never made it, because I had insisted on playing the secret police over the mobile by making him ring on public phones from car parks. He was a bit of a giggler, a cheeky round guy, worried about booking the same girl twice. A sergeant returned from 'Nam, with a cynical smile and a big hole through his leg from a land mine. I said, 'You were a sergeant, I can tell.' 'How's that, Jackie?' 'Well, I'm not a mind-reader, but I know from your big mouth.' He said, 'You're just the same as the rest. You got shifty eyes, you have.' Jackie groaned. 'No, sugar, I haven't. Everything I say is the truth. Don't you know that?' I thought of an incident at a parlour down south, where Samantha and I had worked a few years ago. Sam had walked a short elderly gentleman to the back entrance. He was on cloud nine, after having got what he came in for, whether that be straight sex, a massage, a handjob or just the privilege of 'mutual intimacy'. It was common knowledge within the industry that a lot of the dopes just wanted to talk. Samantha was really laying it on thick, giggling like a girl and touching him gently on the ear lobes and neck. But no sooner had he gone out of the parlour door, and she turned her back with her face all screwed up. 'Yuk! He was a dirty old man,' she said, 'and his breath stank like all buggery.' She was worried about a fight she had had with her girlfriend the night before. 'Don't worry, Sam. You'll patch things up.' 'I'm really over this work tonight, sweetie.' She went to the toilet and put her fingers down her throat and washed her mouth out with spearmint mouthwash. These fucking morons were deluded.
Roxanne had thought that the deception was sad, but I soon set her straight. I don't think these blokes are all stupid. Well, maybe when they're drunk and can't get it up in a brothel after they've paid to come here. That's as common as the crabs and pretty dumb. But it's more than that. It's not that they're dumb or liars, it's that they don't really care whether the woman is faking it or not. 'I have no respect for those clients.' Well, that's okay. They have no respect for you either. That's some of them, anyway. They're tough and out for themselves, just like they are in the dating game. Whereas the dumb girl down at the local bar who gives it away every weekend is still wondering what she can give him to make him love her. She's just like us in some way. She's wondering how she can 'act' around the guy in order to get some affection. Whereas we get the affection and the dough. Roxanne says, 'There's not many men out there tonight.' Give her five months and she'll be saying, 'There's not 'many money' out there tonight.' That's all she should be saying. This healing kick she's on at the moment, is a big fucking joke!
Half of those blokes have got about as much love in them as the empty milk bottles left out on the front steps, particularly the married ones. The worst are the whingers who complain about what they're not getting at home. Those 'happily' married men with the 'oh so great wives (probably pregnant) with great sex lives.' I hate it when the bastards tell me that it's the first time they've cheated on their wives. Half of them don't feel guilty at all, they just pretend to. It's as if they've got to try and lay some giant guilt trip on us all. They really want to fuck everyone over, attention seekers and time wasters. They should bring their wives in too. I'd soon straighten 'em out. These men just want holes for cocks. It's an even exchange of power. The cash for the cunt, with all the bullshit in between. The bullshit is what counts, otherwise it would be boring. We can learn a lot from men. They're not dumb. In most ways, they're pretty fucking clever. For instance, listen to the ambitions of this clever dick. He fucked me from the front, then he said he wanted to 'hug' me from behind. It takes all types, so I let him. Then suddenly he wanted doggy - well woof, woof! I hoped to finish him off like this. He'd been playing all these stupid little games, saying that he was friends of the management and pretending that his mate had told him not to choose me, 'cause I was too skinny. Then he pretended that he was falling asleep in the room. Basically he thought he could be a moron 'cause he fancied himself as good looking. Wrong. Good-looking blokes were two bob a dozen 'round here. As it turns out he was just another big dope. I climbed onto his body. Soon I was stifling a yawn on Mount Disappointment. Anyway, he was positioned behind me and he suddenly said, 'Roll over, quickly, quickly!' I half turned, frowning at him. I said, 'Quickly, quickly?…' Then I looked down and grabbed his cock in the half light, and took a good long look. No condom. He had taken it off. Quickly, quickly huh? I picked up the old condom and threw it across the room. It landed in the porcelain basin. Quickly, quickly in-fucken-deed! There was no more sex for that prick. |
