Austin Williams - Widespread whore

The foreskin chewer and the cod lopper were noisy.. They gobbled and slobbered, and the guy sucking Manny's balls had saliva mixed with dog shit running down his chin. His cock was jumping with a quick and forceful jerk, and Tuesday was sure he would come. And she was right.

Manny had an unerring instinct for timing, and as he sensed the lopper was going to blow his balls, the broom handle was rammed the full eighteen inches into the upturned asshole. The ball sucker screamed, took one final lick at Manny's balls, and expelled a sickening glop of come onto the floor.

The guy who had abandoned the Kotex to get

right into Tuesday's cunt was the last to come, but his climax was decidedly the most dramatic. At the moment when he was deep in her muff, and the overpowering smell of the rotten fish and cow's blood was stifling his breath, his asshole suddenly began to twitch. He reached around behind himself and tried to shove a finger up his asshole. It was difficult because of the position he had to assume to get into Tuesday's pussy.

Manny, seeing that the poor guy was in a tough situation;, jerked the broom handle from the asshole of the one who had already come, and plunged it in full force, laden with shit and a tinge of blood as it was, right up the Kotex fancier's asshole.

As the broom handle struck into his entrails, the Kotex eater sucked in a great mouthful of Tuesday's cunt drippings. He emitted a soulful scream. His balls were loaded and under tremendous pressure anyway, but his upward leap flung his load across the room to stick and then ooze slowly down the wall.

When it was all over, the five visitors lay scattered about, wallowing in their own dick drippings and asshole leavings. Tuesday and Manny were sadly in need of a bath, but they were happy.

Now, all they had to do was split the money, and line up the next deal. It was, all in all, Tuesday decided, not a bad way to get rich quickly.

"Well, damn, Freda said. "It looks to me like you two had a hell of a thing going. Jesus Christ! Ten grand for one night. Hell, it didn't take…what…half an hour?"

"Oh no!" Tuesday said, scratching her chewed up pussy. "I guess those assholes were there for three, maybe four hours. I've just given you the high spots of how it went. My tits were sore for a week. Titties just aren't made for feet."

"Yeah, but why the hell did you give it up? Hell, you won't make that much money in six months now."

"Oh yes, I will," Tuesday said wryly. "That was the problem. After we got through with it, and everybody had his clothes on again, Manny said he would go out to the car with the guys where they would pay off. Then he'd come back, and we would split."

"So?"

"Well, the son of a bitch never came back."

"But hell," Freda said. "You got the three grand from Hiroto. Why did you let Manny ruin your

deal? Hell, you didn't need him. Shit, you could do it by yourself. You still could."

"Naw," Tuesday said. "Like Manny said, everything needs management. Look at us here. If we didn't have some sort of madam to greet the marks at the front door, what kind of whorehouse would this be? And I'm also too, soft-hearted."

"What do you mean, soft-hearted?"

"Well, let some bastard give me a sad story, and I'll let him have some pussy just because I feel sorry for him. Then I don't have the guts to push him for the money. That's the reason I got to have outside management."

Freda sneered. "Huh! I wouldn't fuck my brother without the dough in advance."

"Let me give you one of my sadder stones as an example of why I'm such a bust at being a legitimate whore. I think it was Joplin or maybe St. Jo, Missouri… somewhere out there. II blow into town about ten o'clock at night, and I'm stuck in the bus station. Hell, I got money, but this place is like nowhere. I'm looking for a cab and…

There was a heavy and oppressive atmosphere in the Joplin bus station. Tuesday, lugging her heavy suitcase, wrinkled her nose in distaste. The station smelled of unwashed bodies and stale tobacco smoke. Whew! It had been a weary trip from nowhere to Joplin, and Tuesday was bone-tired. It was several months after Manny had walked out and disappeared, and she had been at loose ends.

She set the suitcase down. It was cold outside as she waited for a taxi. She sat down on the baggage, and began to search her pocketbook for a cigarette.

Ruefully, she contemplated her financial condition: Twelve dollars and sixty-seven cents. Tuesday was certainly no business manager.

Tuesday guessed she would get a room in a cheap hotel and make some sort of whore arrangement with the bell captain. If there is a sorry arrangement in whoring, it is being dependent on the customers which a bellman can shoo into your room.

While Tuesday was wondering what the name of a proper hotel would be, she caught sight of a young, virile man ambling across the station toward her.

The guy was, Tuesday reckoned, about nineteen, with auburn hair grown long down on his neck, and combed carelessly across his forehead. It was well styled. His shirt was open almost to his navel. Tuesday was certain the guy had magnificent nipples, probably dark brown, and very smooth.

Mound the middle, he was as slender as a girl, but Tuesday could almost feel the firmness of his stomach. In her mind's eye, Tuesday imagined how sleek his midsection would be, and it inflamed her cunt. After all, she had not had a decent fuck in a long time. Not one that turned her on. Most of the johns to whom she sold a piece of pussy were so terribly inept, or so unbelievably nervous or so suddenly drunk, that except for a few times when she finger-fucked herself in sheer desperation, Tuesday had not had her rocks off in months.

Guys who pay for pussy seldom ever know anything about fucking. Ah! But this guy, even if he was a virgin and knew nothing… he was created to be a sex wonder.

Tuesday marveled at his hips. How graceful they were, and how smoothly contoured were his buttocks. She licked her lips and wondered if the flesh on his ass, was as creamy as that which showed down the open front of his shirt.

Tuesday was drawn to the outline of a sizeable cock which was clearly discernible against his right leg. The clot of his jeans was stretched so tightly over it that Tuesday could see the definition of the head, and all of the shaft down to the bottom.

Did he have a hard-on? Surely not! He was out in public and there was no reason on earth he should be stimulated. Yet, that cock was at least… well, it had to be a good seven inches. Now, seven-inch cocks are a rarity at best, and Tuesday just did not believe There could be one that long and that big, around, with that firm a head on it, and still be soft.

No, by Christ, the guy had a hard-on. For what reason, Tuesday had no idea, but it was for certain:

His cock was up, and ready… for what?

Tuesday didn't know, but from the itching inside her drawers, she knew where she wished it was being shoved at that very moment. With each unhurried step the guy took, his cock would work its way up and down his pants. Tuesday knew that the rough texture of his pants would bear down through whatever kind of underwear he might be wearing, and the way his tool was being rubbed, he

would have to be as hot as a two-dollar pistol.

She gazed at his crotch where the caged monster WSS lunging upward in an effort to escape. Jesus, would he turn it loose? Tuesday hoped she could catch his eye while appearing not to be flying to do so. Her problems, however, were easily solved.

He walked straight up to her, and since she was sitting on her suitcase, his cock was right in her face. It was all she could do to keep from lurching out and taking his asscheeks into her hands, plunging her mouth over his cock. Was it her imagination, or did she actually see it throb through his pants?