Coral Hull: Prose: Work The Sex: Nikita speaks: 'This is a culture of frightened sluts,' Sharlena ...

I MACKENZIE KNIGHT I A CHILD OF WRATH A GOD OF LOVE I FALLEN ANGELS EXPOSED I

CORAL HULL: WORK THE SEX
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Nikita speaks: 'This is a culture of frightened sluts,' Sharlena said, 'so let's hope we get a reputation!' The Mitchell Street bouncer outside Rorke's Drift turned to his new woman. He said, 'One of the strays just walked in. I slammed her last week and now she's back for more. I really needed a fuck. I went off like an ice cream truck slamming into a brick wall. She's only nineteen, emotional. I like fucking, that's what I do.' Hey, I liked his vanity. Although his 'experience' didn't impress me. Samantha had fucked six thousand men, whereas this bouncer had only fucked three hundred women. Sam said, 'he didn't even make a buck out it, darling!' His only consolation was that he had hurt and deceived as many women as he could along the way and now he boasted about not having supplied the condoms. 'Let the stupid bitches buy them. It was part of working the sex for him. Even though he wasn't working he acted like he was. To really 'work the sex' you had to work the mind and emotions as well. Never at one point did he ever admit to not actually wanting to see a woman again. Instead he 'found' the good in her, was deeply 'in love' with some aspect of her, treated her like a little 'Goddess'. One of his mates was seen proposing on his hands and knees to yet another one-night stand outside Discovery, while many drunk and deluded people applauded and looked on. He was into public displays of affection. This was only after five bourbons. When the women turned to him and said, 'I actually only want sex…' but he insisted on a relationship. In the end Sharlena said, 'Just agree with everything they say. Let them know they're 'winning.' Then go ahead fuck their brains out.' But I'm a straightforward woman and I like the honest approach. Roxanne said, 'But you're never gonna get a straight answer off these guys, so why bother? Words are cheap. Thoughts are mysterious. Go on their actions. Less talk and more action.' Roxanne was right. Actions are the clearest loudest text and we must learn to interpret.

Roxanne speaks: And look after yourself, girlfriend. Draw the line on the way to your heart and never let them cross it. Our emotions are our only weakness. The largest enemy is from within. So this was how the game was played in Mitchell Street on a Friday, Saturday and Sunday night. The culture of fear and deceit had made love complex. Nikita wanted love as much as the next human being, but she wasn't that lonely. Three hundred women down the track and still he dribbled from the jowls. He displayed his lust like the ringer on a crude alarm clock. His touch was clammy. The elastic in his tracksuit pants loose and dingy. He was a man-sized frog with sweaty arms, the same old lies to everyone, behind unblinking eyes. But the local women fucked him. Those who weren't into fucking turned into bookshelves and dreamt of love from dark interiors.

Nikita liked the bouncer and would feel sad if they lost contact. At least they had the courage to admit their feelings to one another that night in the carpark after a few rounds. She would never admit that she was nervous around him. In his mind she was frightened to fuck him. This was because Mr Whippy was so experienced, after having supposedly 'slammed' three hundred women. She could hardly believe it herself. I hope that means he's a good lay, she thought. But quantity wasn't necessarily quality. Actually Nikita thought that he sounded crude and clumsy in his descriptions regarding other women and that he'd been around the block a few times too often. She worried about his 'experience' for a moment, even though she was, by profession, a working girl.

Nikita's new client was just like the army guy. Once you'd had enough of them, all men fall into categories and types. This guy was determined to be tense. He told Nikita that he was always tense, so why should this be any different? He was one of those guys who gets 'interested' in the industry. He started asking her why she did the job. I knocked at the door to offer assistance after hearing the buzzer go off and Nikita shouted, 'I'm busy!' 'Who's that?' I said, 'Just a girlfriend.' Nikita joked with her client, 'now don't you go off with her!' He didn't smile. 'Is she more attractive than you?' When she opened the door I noticed that he was a dumpy little guy with an overgrown beard. I said, 'We are all gorgeous, sweetheart. It depends on what you like.' He asked me what nationality Nikita was. I said, 'Greek.' He said, 'A Greek girl is doing this!?' So it was 'this!' was it? I then understood that he was actually horrified that he was here at all, and genuinely 'disturbed' by what we did. It took me by surprise! I didn't understand his psychic makeup and asked him to unclench his fists. He was young and timid. The hundred and fifty was in the cupboard. If he tried anything I'd tickle his face.

    

This website is part of my personal testimony that has been guided by The Holy Spirit and written in Jesus' name.

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