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So it was my little secret. Yes, my whole fucking body, which he only had access to for another ten minutes, was indeed my little secret. Fucken time itself was my secret and how I thought that he was nothing but a filthy little motherfucker with a wallet full of classless cash. He could have the secret of his arsehole left unlicked and unpenetrated by a vibrator. I didn't want that. He could have the secret of his yukky little life and his dirty little mind as well. I wanted no part of his existence.
It was his privilege to have me here, and he knew it. My remote control was switching me on like a disc player, when all the superficial lousy love songs I could think of faking for his pleasure, ran out within the hour anyway. Every working girl knew that the easiest job in the world was where the penetration fucking was kept to a minimum, or where it didn't happen at all. Yes, folks, that's just how much we wanted them all! But I didn't even bother mind-fucking this turd. The stinking house was an assault on my senses, and to add injury to insult, he wanted the blinds left open so that the neighbours could watch. 'Are they paying?' I said, shaking my head and closing the blinds, 'or is it your treat?' I checked the room for concealed cameras in all the usual places. He offered me a cigarette. I made myself at home and got him to change the stale old linen and stained pillowslips.
'Well, get me a drink.' The dirty prick had invited me straight into the bedroom. There was no class about him. To return the favour I made sure I cut him short on the booking. Forty-five minutes later I was on my way to Casuarina Square to pay my bills and buy some Johnny Walker. I left his dump behind with my beautiful breasts and cunt. He was left with his slimy little dick and his greasy bald spot. I'd hate to be as lonely and ugly as that. It was as though, if left to his own devices, he would have stuck every object in the room up into my cunt just to see how it fitted, and he'd have been turned on by that, a fist-fucker from way back. I would have brought the lampshade down on his forehead as he inserted two fingers, or as I gently coaxed him with a half snarl, 'If you want to turn me on, you have to go nice and soft around my hole.' I looked at my wristwatch over the hair of his back. 'Okay,' I said, 'time's up!'
So that is how our story ended. It was a subtle reminder that some women do it by the clock and not by their love of the obscene. And one day some cheapskate mother fucker is gonna ask me to do a cheap job for sixty bucks and I'm gonna agree, saying, 'Okay then.' When they arrive and hand over the money, I'm gonna hand them a blow-up doll with a mouth like a plughole. That's what they'll get for their sixty bucks. At least she won't complain when the hour's up! One of the dirty sides to this job, which Roxanne knows about, and which at least I'm prepared to talk about, is that once the fisherman came inside the condom, he rushed to dispose of it down the toilet. 'I can do that for you,' I said. 'No,' he said, 'I'll do it.' But he was in too much of a hurry for my liking. He ended up chucking it into the dusty cane bin. While he was in the shower, I picked up his toothbrush and gave the thing a prod. It was full of dark grey semen. The dirty little prick. I almost puked. 'For fuck's sake! What the fuck's going on? You better get to a doctor, mate.' Later when I told Nikita, she said, 'God, imagine if that thing broke inside you. Jesus Jackie, you'd want to douche after that.' 'Douche?!' I said, shaking my head and smiling, 'if that thing broke inside me, I'd want to cut half my fucking body off!' |
