Coral Hull: Prose: Work The Sex: Jackie speaks: Here we go again right? It reminds me of ...

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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Jackie speaks: Here we go again right? It reminds me of when Nikita first started. I still can't believe the way in which she set up her motel room, with the scented candles and fluffy toys and all that shit. It looked like a little girl's bedroom for fuck's sake! I say give it to them cheap and nasty, baby! Because, Roxanne, it's those very lovely lonely married men whom you speak so fondly of, who often ask for the unsafe extras, while time and time again I've had to educate the mongrels straight from the Northern Territory Sexual Health Centre pamphlets. But you know what? They really don't give a flying fuck! They don't give a rat's arse on a rainy night about what they take home to their girlfriends and wives. But I play it safe, if you know what I'm sayin.' I always tell 'em, sweetheart: if she lets you go down on her without a dam, then she's done it to every other bloke on that shift and beyond. And if she kisses you, well then she's kissed every one else, on the mouth or on the arse, what's the difference? It's like lettin' a dog lick ya face after he's been sniffin' all the shit in the Darwin city park. Now I love dogs, don't get me wrong, you understand. But in this joint I have my limitations. Hep B City, here we come!'

Nikita thought briefly about her new 'regular' who booked her for up to two days at a time. She had kissed the dope. But that was just a one-off thing. Sharlena said, 'Don't you love it when you're selling your box in a good parlour, and every second guy wants to see you privately. Yet when you did work privately, they didn't want to see you!' Not only that, but what they mean by 'private' in this case, is that you should give it away. Will you come back to my motel room etcetera etcetera?… as if we give a shit about them outside the job. I said, "So you want to see me privately?" He said, 'Yes, but there's no money involved.' 'Oh, right. So you're 'very happily' married with a 'great' sex life, leaving the country next week on business, and have a rich mistress but you want to see me privately, or to be more precise on the side for a fuck or two, but without paying me? Okay then, sweetheart, but you seem to be forgetting one small detail, like, what am I actually getting out of it? What's in the deal for me, dopey? Before he could think up yet another pale-arsed answer, I shrugged. 'So surprise me some more,' I said.

Nikita speaks: He was a local boy who had woken up in the middle of the night with a hard-on in his satin boxer shorts. He called up one of the girls for an escort. It was Samantha. She was doing home visits. She should have known that something was up on the phone when he said, 'Can I come as many times as I like?' But the receiver went fuzzy and she wasn't sure. He kept saying, 'Too easy,' and laughing. When Sam said that she'd be there in thirty minutes he kept saying, 'Too easy, too easy.' It was a hard one hundred and sixty dollars. Some of the girls charged over and above the standard rate of one hundred and fifty. But this rooter should have been charged one thousand and sixty. Sam was a bit depressed about problems her eldest boy was having at school and she lost control in the room. To make matters worse he was charged up on a midnight bong, so he made the most of it. 'Come on, baby, I like fucking. Come all over my cock.' It was horrible for her, like real messy.

Roxanne speaks: He was a piece of white trailer park trash. He tried to stick his tongue in Samantha's mouth, but she turned her face away. She let him keep fucking her. She didn't know why and he smiled as she watched. He kept saying, 'Too easy, too easy.' There was no class about him, no sensuality. He fucked like machinery. There is no soul in this tiny insect prick. He is an industrial landscape. The worst thing is that he was reasonably polite the whole time and kept smiling. Sam smiled back and thought of what his mouth would look like after all his teeth had been knocked in with a hammer. It would mean little more to her than damaging a building. This was because he wasn't acting like a human being. He was sub-human. He was a wasp man, rubbing his stupid little prick all over his own sheets, while she massaged his skin cancer freckled back. His pink scrotum hanging down between his arse cheeks really irritated her but she thought, at least his arse was clean. Sam kept focusing on the job and agreed that at least his body was worth healing, even though there was no mind inside it. Jackie said, 'the best thing would have probably been decapitation. Nikita might be naïve but she keeps a knife underneath her mattress.'

    

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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