Adult Work:Cum in my C#nt

Adult Work:Cum in my C#nt

Status: Finished

Genre: Romance

Houses:

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Romance

Houses:

Summary

Enter the depraved world of the online sex worker who will cater to every perverted whim of her clients. This woman is a walking talking sex sacrifice eager for the libation of the gods . Also a fat guy goes nutzoid!

Summary

Enter the depraved world of the online sex worker who will cater to every perverted whim of her clients. This woman is a walking talking sex sacrifice eager for the libation of the gods . Also a fat guy goes nutzoid!

Chapter1 (v.1) - Adult Work:Cum in my Cunt

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 01, 2016

Reads: 1321

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 01, 2016

A A A

A A A

Adult Work: Cum in my Cunt

A Google search for escort services in the North West of England had brought Gillis here, to AdultWork.com, a global listing of adult service providers, erotic content and live cams, or so the tagline went. He selected the UK listings and was informed that it was Fuck Friday on AdultWork.com TV. Gillis had just missed out on Wank Wednesday. A dispiriting and futile week haunting online dating sites had made him consider arranging what he once would have been repelled by, the transient rental of a body. Just hire some flesh, to hold onto, to confess his inadequacies, to seek release. Or whatever fifty quid got you.  Anyway it would be cheaper than the subtle and hypocritical prostitution evinced in the user profiles on PlentyOfFish with their barely concealed promises of companionship, or in the instance of the more forthright sex if you coughed up for weekends away, ‘nice meals’ or the in the case of the more demanding ones a fortnight in the sun. His overdraft would barely cover a mechanical coupling in a coastal fleapit but it could possibly cover a cut price sensual massage with an alleged happy ending.  It was not sexual longing that was his primary stimulus to seek an arrangement; infrequent masturbating over the retro porn found at xxxbunker pretty much satiated him, but a loneliness that had begun to fog his mind, his exclusion from domestic conviviality only eased by cocktails of alcohol and codeine.  Gillis was sprawled on a beaten leather couch, his laptop propped on a coffee table before it, drinking vodka and coke, the only booze and mixer combo his ulcer didn’t shriek at.  The room was partially lit by a table lamp. It was early Friday evening and Gillis had been home from work an hour and he could finally drink with the brakes off as he wasn’t on shift this weekend. He’d loosened his tie and unbuttoned his pants but was too weary and stressed to get changed. Gillis had already finished a third of the litre bottle with just a splash of diet coke to take the edge off the spirit. The lurch from autumn into winter had been mild so far so he’d saved on the heating. He lived in a functionally populated two bedroom terraced house which he had rented since his erstwhile long term partner had rejected him for one of her work colleagues a year or so ago. Gillis was running to fat in early middle age, childless and steadily balding in a stagnant career, and barely had enough money to cover his bills.  What little he had left went on vodka and rolling tobacco. The stash of strong prescription codeine tablets Gillis was going through he had taken from his aunt’s bedside cabinet; he had been helping his mother strip her flat.  It had been cancer that took her, wasn’t it always. Every time he swallowed codeine he was assailed by self-loathing. So it had come to this. Gillis smoked a roll up cigarette and drank some neat vodka to steel him and then canvassed the site for local escorts.

 

Gillis looked for escorts who lived within fifteen miles of his postcode. The first twenty results of fifty three, up popped the profile pics in neatly symmetrical rows and columns of jpegs, two across and ten down. Monicker, age and location underneath. Candystix, 26, Prescot. Naughtygirl, 19, St Helens. Big Wendy, 38, Skelmersdale. Classee Laydee, 45, Warrington. He clicks on a few profiles. Each profile has four tabs, main profile page, public gallery, rates and availability, blog. The main profile picture was accompanied by a mini gallery of up to six jpegs, which you could click upon to enlarge. A lot of the faces were obscured to varying degrees of relative anonymity, the rest all much of a muchness, raunchy glamour shots accentuating the pulchritude and versatility of the sex worker, a smattering of props, including root vegetables, bondage toys and the odd startled dick. There’s a list of dos and don’ts down the sidebar.

 

Even here his age discriminated against him. The younger sex workers under twenty five all seemed to specify an upper age limit of 29 for their clients, which struck Gillis as a sex for profit version of Logan’s Run but reasonable, he supposed the prime meat could be picky about the cocks they handled, with the crème de la viande also insisting on scrutinising a picture of the prospective consort before assenting to a meet. Yet for even the workers in their early thirties onwards there seemed a range of client  age ranges set out, superficially corresponding with their attractiveness , 18-24, 28-32, 30 to 39. Jesus, he thought, I can’t even pay to get my dick sucked. A busty hag in a permed blonde wig, smiling broadly over a pinioned cock to reveal fragmented teeth, her right arm pressed against the thin pasty chest of a headless punter in a manner suggestive of a wrestling hold, even she would not perform her twenty five pound fifteen minute ‘sloppy bj quickie’ on anyone over 39. Gillis poured another generous shot of vodka, feeling downbeat to the point of depression. Choking on another cigarette he looks at the stuff they’ll do.  The more youthful and marketable won’t do CIM, OWO, and bukkake, water sports, bareback or anal. Kissing at discretion, fees and wish lists. Lingerie and perfume, lavished on top of the agreed fee, would facilitate a more loving performance.  The older and uglier ones would suck a dick sans condom and at a push ingest semen and their arseholes were not out of bounds if you coughed up a bit extra. Hell, they were so depraved they’d even fuck people up to the age of forty five. Gillis felt desolate, a transparency of a sentient being, outside of sex and desire, irrevocably wedded to the solace of onanism bequeathed to YouPorn refugees. He clicks on the next twenty results. One worker stood out. She sold herself under the handle Cum in my Cunt. At 47 she’s the oldest one he had seen so far and her age range was 18 to 65. The main profile pic is her sucking a cock her eyes softly shut as if deep in reverie. She operates in Knowsley. Here is hardcore. She’d put it all out there. Gillis felt something wash through him, you could not call it hope exactly, but it cut through his default setting of nihilistic despair. He looks at her profile page.  Underneath the main profile pic there where three smaller jpegs which he made bigger. One shows a skinny pellucid body stretched out, nipples like cigarette burns, her head cropped off at the chin. The middle one offers chubby yellowed fingers pointing a spent cock at her mouth. She’s wearing a shiny auburn wig, and her long grey face, enlivened by retro glittery make up that give her an old school Color Climax sheen, is trying to suppress a frown as ejaculate dribbles from her thin red lips, her expression suggests she is bracing herself to swallow the remainder. Last in line is a picture that looks like it has been scanned from a Polaroid recovered from a musty attic, the image is grainy and a little solarised. Cum in my Cunt is younger on this, maybe twenty years or so. Her countenance is softer, less aquiline, the face creamier and not marked by troubles.  She has a cock in her mouth and her dead blue eyes are trying to smile for the camera. Beneath this a brief sales pitch. Cum in my Cunt will do most things. Bring a friend and spunk anywhere. Bring a friend. And spunk anywhere. What’s not to love. She does pushbacks with your cum. Swallowing at discretion, she adds demurely. She’ll do it anyway you want, bareback, oral without protection.  Cum in her ass cunt and mouth. She’s a lady who will be your slut.  A semen spittoon, oblivious to her intimations of disease and spiritual enervation. Waiting and available, she is gagging for your cock, your spunk.  It is all written in block capitals with no punctuation in a staccato manner. Cum in my Cunt is white, five feet two tall, a size 8, 34 b natural. Gillis was surprised to see her profile had gathered over 100,000 hits.  There had to be a ghost in the machine.

TREAT ME LIKE A LADY AND I WILL BE YOUR CUM LOVING SLUT FOR YOU TO CUM WHERE YOU WANT

UP NOW AND FEELING VERY VERY HORNY CALL ME IF YOU WANT SOME FUN AND ITS NOT ON MY LIKES LIST THEN ASK ME
AS JUST COS ITS NOT IN MY LIKES LIST DOESNT NOT ON MY LIKE LIST THAT DOESNT MEAN I DONT DO IT LOL
TBH GAGGING FOR A COCK IN MY MOUTH
COME AND SEE ME BEFORE WORK OR IF UVE FINSHED NIGHTS THEN LET ME DESTRESS YOU WITH A SPIT WET DIRTY BJ

CMON YOU MUCKY BUGGERS THINGS YOU THINK UP ILL PISS ON YER CHIPS AND FEED EM TO YOU
WHY NOT JUST COME IN BEND ME OVER AND WATCH ME WANK MYSELF AND THEN CUM OVER MY FACE PICK MY SEXY OUTFIT

ILL WHIP YOUR ARSE AS A HEADMISTRESS AND LICK YOUR LOLLY AS A SCHOOLGIRL  
LOVE SUCKING LICKING TEASING  A NICE HARD PULSING  COCK SUCKING TIGHT CUM FILLED BALLS TILL EXPLODING DEEP IN MY MOUTH 
IF I DONT ANSWER PHONE THEN PLEASE TEXT ME AND I WILL GET BACK ASP TO YOU
IM A LADY FIRST, BUT IN THE BEDROOM ILL BE YOUR CUM LOVING SLUT, CUM IN MY CUNT ASS, AND IF YOU CUM IN MY MOUTH I WILL SPIT IT BACK IN TO YOURS MOUTH AND LICK EVERY LAST DROP OFF YOU
Gillis wonders who actually wrote this, does she have an aggressive and manipulative prole pimp, or is she actually waiting there, sinewy and bathetic on her bed, choosing ‘sexy’ clothes. And who actually would fuck her, and were they legion?  It was quite the existential mystery, and in contrast to the playful and up tempo meat selling elsewhere, the photos and text disclosed a hint of psychosis, or at least abjection, in the crude and presumably mythic affirmation of her insatiability,  a sacrificial  willingness to offer up her flesh to anyone, to do anything. Shoot it anywhere. Remember, she’s your cum loving slut. Explode in her mouth. Wank over her face. Ejaculate in her cunt and anus.  Gillis wonders what happened in her life that brought her to this.  It would just be the usual stuff that atomises you as you stagger through the middle years. Family, work, failed relationships, aging parents, divorce, bereavement, the personal tragedies that are just so much cosmic yawns.  She digs it though, really digs it, a swinger who has the best job in the world, hot and cold running cock and gets paid for it. Imagine that imagine. Dick after dick day after day. Choosing your outfit as you ready yourself to receive the next unlovely corporeal package. The pricks spitting at you.  And you love it you really love it.  Every mouthful of cum each shot up the arse. Gillis, though virginal in contra-distinction, felt a connection with the wretchedness of this woman’s being, or this skilful construct of a life. Why, he’d swoon if he met her.

A brief selection of her likes, in alphabetical order, bukkake, car meets, dogging, FFM3somes, MMF3somes, rimming (giving), spanking (receiving), unprotected sex, voyeurism and water sports.  It is time to move onto the public gallery tab, a generous selection of sixteen pictures and she’s giving out hardcore again for free. There is something intangible about her appearance, she looks young in some a lot older in others, the hands give it away, maybe she had a career break. Here the nose doesn’t look so crooked, practically skeletal on that. Again some appear to be scanned photographs giving off a 1970s Scandie Europorn vibe, she’s all metallic sci-fi make up and neck scarves. Gillis was reassured by the watery teaspoons of cum that decorate her in the majority of the shots, this was real sex, no fountains of thick ejaculate here like the prostate superstars of xHamster produced. What was that they called Peter North in allusion to his prodigious money shots? The Sperminator. Each photo is titled, block capitals, of course.

GRINDING DEEP DOWN ON A REGULAR

A close up of her cunt. She’s balls deep on a guy in the cowgirl position. You can see the tops of her stockings attached to a garter belt. She’s wearing a basque as well. You don’t see beyond her shoulders. The prick is clean shaven, the skinny trunk it is attached to hairless.  Another picture, simply titled UPLOADED. She’s wearing a sparkly red wig, cum is beaded across her tightly shut eyelids, a cock end pressed against her mouth, her face trying to pass off a grimace as sexual relish.

NO IM NOT A SLOPPY EATER

Cum in my Cunt is wearing the same basque as in the other pic, which here  is liberally streaked with ejaculate, you see a little of her stomach and the top of her pubic bush, no legs or head, a flash of shoulders.

A SUNDAY DRIVE

A glamour shot, black bra and red panties, red stilettos, legs wide open. Cum in my Cunt is sat on the front seat of a red BMW, the shot has been taken sideways, her left foot digging into the swung out  door, like she’s kicked it open, her right hand rummaging in the red panties. A red heel digs into the gravel driveway. Jackie Onassis shades propped on her hair, which is scraped back into a bun, her thin gaudily made up face receding into the skull, the eyes as blank and joyless as ever.

MMM I LOVE COCK

Spunk on face and a dick still loitering in shot, Cum in my Cunt is lying on a bed, looking directly into the camera, sticking her tongue out to advertise the semen she has collected at the back of her throat.

JUST LOVE TO KISS

Cum in my Cunt is sucking on the tongue of a greying woman who looks early fifties, her face chalky and drawn but redeemed by soulful eyes. They are meeting each other’s gaze hungrily and there seems to be a genuine tenderness between them in the way they seem to be surrendering.  

In the rest of the pics she’s either sucking dick, there’s an ominously large black one in the mix, or there are solo shots of her modelling her outfits, a schoolgirl sucking a lollipop, a dominatrix flailing a whip, a headmistress replete with cane. Gillis clicked on the Rates and Availability tab. At the top of the page is a Q & A with Cum in my Cunt.

Frequently Asked Questions...

Q. Will You Do It Cheaper?

A. NO I WILL NOT DO IT CHEAPER,
if you are asking that then you are on the wrong Web Site im not a cheap prostitute

Q. Do I Do Everything On My Likes List?

A. Yes I Do Everything on my likes list.

Q.  Do You Do Out Calls.

A. NO I Do Not Do Out Calls.

Yet according to her rates and availability checklist she does in calls and out calls within a 20 mile radius, will meet for swingers meets, dogging, car sex. 15 minute quickie 25 pound. 30 mins fifty quid. 60 mins 100. You got a bit knocked off the hourly rate if you booked three hours for the bargain price of £260. You could activate a notifier on her availability. Direct cams, webcam, phone chat available. SMS, email or mobile phone.  Her favourite celebrity is Keith Lemon. Cum in my Cunt was fourteen when she lost her virginity.  She was in an uncomfortable position and her arse was asleep by the end of it all. Pubic hair-shaved completely it states in the Q & A though she sports a full bush on all the public gallery pictures. She smokes and has tattoos and piercings, none of which are visible in the pictures. She’ll go as far as Manchester and Preston. Sexy kisser sexy man turns her on. The most outrageous thing she had done was share an orgy bed with four women and seven guys. Her favourite position is sex on a settee with her on top and a cock teasing inside her, so it goes. Cum in my Cunt also likes being spooned.  

 

The initial escapist glee Gillis had felt when he accessed the site has now dissipated. Urinating in the bathroom he catches his reflection in the mirror of the bathroom cabinet door, which had creaked open in a way that suggested it wanted to convey a message, which was his flesh looked like it was loosening itself from his bones. He was medium height, with a receding chin and pale blue eyes in a pasty and  indistinct face, what was left of his hair was shaped into a clerical cut, and fat seemed to have surreptitiously  overwhelmed his body. It was everywhere. He resembled a debauched Himmler.  The disquiet that washed through Gillis was worse than the self-hatred his reflection usually engendered, as he realised he had resigned himself to a melancholy acceptance; he was done, no way back. Gillis washed down a couple of codeine and rushes back to the vodka and laptop. It was too early for fluoxetine. Gillis needed the visual counterpart of a cattle gun, something to disgust and appal him, to dispel the fear. Diabetes, heart attack, stroke, cancer. He did a Google image search for dead milfs. One of the pictures he found alluring, a peachy blonde in a torn black bra lying on a bed, staring listlessly at the camera, erotically passive.  He thinks it’s a dark fetish job, a stylised depiction of taboo sexuality, and is repulsed when he discovers it’s a real crime scene photo. According to the text the woman’s 12 year old son found the body when he returned home from school. Time for a shock site classic. Gillis thought, I’m a grown man, doing this. Vodka neat from the bottle, he needs it to hit quickly. Gillis watches a skinny naked man insert a jar up his anus. It breaks. Thick red blood drips onto the floor as the man carefully removes shards of glass. It’s reminiscent of Warhol sponsored experimental film, tedious and excruciating at the same time.

The vodka had kicked in now and the codeine had delivered a pleasant sedative effect. Fuck it, thought Gillis and swallowed the Fluoxetine that had been sweating in his left palm. He’d quickly made his way through the vodka, only a quarter of a litre remaining. The Fluoxetine would see him to the end of the night, Gillis concluded, numbness already creeping through him, that joyous disembodiment from emotion, where nothing touched and reality seemed a posthumous affair.  He felt a longing for Cum in my Cunt and was borne ceaselessly back to her profile. Gillis hadn’t read her blog yet so he stretched out on the couch, laptop rested on his chest, and got dreamy.

MY BLOG!!!

THE TRUE MEANING OF FANCY A COFFEE

was taken out (free) for a social coffee today by a gentleman who was trailing past Knowsley  and who'd never booked a escort to show that i didn't have two heads and that i was far from being normal, we enjoyed both ourselves (without taking clothes off) kiss on cheek face of course then dropped at home (alone) few hours later gets a call asking could he see me tomorrow as he really like me, of course I said , What time you want the booking far and for how long would you like to stay far, ....... to be told 'Well I Didn't think I would have to pay for it as i took you out for coffee and, I thought you liked me,, was his answer, this isn't the first time its happened, WHY OH WHY do Guys think just cos they payed for a coffee at Mcd's that they don't need to book me, the all idea of coffee was to show that i am who i say i am, n didn't have two heads, T want to be more then all the others, How can you be More YOUR MARRIED, Can You Stop Over NO Can You Get Out At Nights Or Weekends NO, Are You Going To Take Me Out Where You Live To met Your Friends No, So it would Just be for a of hour if lucky WHEN you feel like it, YES he says, as to say I did laugh

Is there a mans code that Going For Coffee Mean Free SEX now a days, As I do think Im worth more then giving my body up for 99p coffee n not even a large cup at that he didn’t even offer me one of his fries cheeky begger said he’d expect anal for a happy meal but I could keep the toy

THIS MORNING

nice bloke a regular called round done nights at asda paid twenty five quid for a fifteen minute quickie and all he did was shove his finger up my arse and poke it around easiest money ever I was watching this morning as he wanked off he made some funny noises I was worried he was having a shit

LAST NIGHT

i love swinging, last night i went to my regular Swingers Clubs as i havent been out in ages, I went with my sexy Play Friends who have been happly married for 27years as we three hadnt been for a while it was all New Bodys (people) that was ther, Get to the point women I here you read, The reason im Blogging....

TONITE I BEEN DRINKING AND SMOKING A LOT

WHERE HAVE ALL THE BI GIRLS GONE out of about 20 couples there was only my Sexy Female Friend and Me that was getting right down and dirty, nothing better then turning head to the side seeing a sexy arse is in the air as shes sucking a cock and burring my head in between her legs or seeing a FFFFFF (got the pics to prove it) going on, But there wasn't, NOTHING,ther was not even any Four Sums or more sums nothing in fact at one point ther where waiting to take turns in the single bedroom WHAT HAPPENED to as many people trying to get in the room a sexy lady standing watching as she wanks two guys off as shes getting fucked from behind as her hubbie is getting his cocked sucked off two girls with there arses in the air getting licked out by me, So come on Girls Get your NAUGHTY ARSES IN THE AIR

Friday, March 20th 2015

MORNING PEEPS

CUMMING UP TO 6AM AND STILL NOT HAD ANY SLEEP I JUST CAN NOT SLEEP, THIS WILL BE MY THIRD WEEK THAT ITS BEEN THIS BAD

IN THREE DAYS I HAD JUST OVER ONE HOURS SLEEP AND THAT WAS IT

AND NNNNOOO THERE IS NO ONE THATS KEEPING ME AWAKE

I WANT TO PLAY A GAME.........

WHAT IS THE BEST WAY FOR ME TO SLEEP AS THIS IS KILLING ME KNOW.....

SEND YOUR ANSWERS IN A EMAIL GIRLS AND BOYS..... SO WHO EVER GIVES ME THE BEST ANSWER WILL GET THE BEST WDTBJ

LOOK FORWArd TO SEE IF ANY ONE WILL CUM AND PLAY THIS EARLY IN THE MORNING

UP AND ABOUT NOW GETTING READY LISTENING TO THE RADIO AND LOOKING IN THE MIRROR I SO PALE

THE HAPPY SONG MAKES ME HAPPY

The last date in there is 20 March 2015. Nearly 7 months ago since the hauntological blog had been updated.  After a week of intermittent activity, Cum in my Cunt had backed into the shadows. She lived the life alright, coupling with her own kind in the crags, the recesses. Her appointment book on the rates and availability page was healthily tenanted. Cum in my Cunt was either someone returning with gusto to the game and alive to the possibilities of internet marketing or a weathered professional abruptly switched onto the mingling of sexual commerce and social media  that AdultWork.com offered. Gillis was still puzzled by the premier enticement of Cum in my Cunt’s mission statement, which seemed to be an invitation to gonorrhoea and hotwired masculine revulsion with the mind worm of sloppy seconds. Well, he had enjoyed his evening in her spectral company but the anti-depressant was closing him down for the evening. Vodka, codeine, fluoxetine, nicotine. Gillis always enjoyed fading into unconsciousness to live news feeds and he figured the thirty minutes left of battery on his laptop would see him through to sleep. He logged onto SkyGo. There’s something bad going on in Paris. Smartphone clips told him this, it nearly rouses him but the most glorious part of his week takes him into darkness.

Gillis wakes around midday dehydrated and with terrible acid ingestion. He washes down two codeine and one ranitidine with a litre of bottled water. Craving nicotine but nauseated by the prospect of a cigarette, Gillis pops a nicotine chew in his mouth and makes a slice of toast. It’s agonising for him to eat it, his stomach going into spasms each time a bite lands but he needs to line things down there. He returns to bed for another hour or so, rising again mid-afternoon and able to enjoy coffee and cigarettes. Gillis was watching Sky News on his laptop watching the live feed of the aftermath of what had been termed a ‘mass casualty attack’ in Paris. It offered a micro spectacle that was engaging in its penny dreadful monotony and Gillis concluded that his sense of total abstraction was the closest he’d now get to the emotion he once conceptualised as happiness. The Sky reporter looks gaunt and haunted as she hangs around the streets where the killings took place, a flaneur in a fragmented city, grabbing the grieving, the bewildered and the ghoulish and lining them up for the camera. She can’t fake empathy and her questions are tactless but elicit dignified and articulate responses they don’t deserve. Zoom in on a young woman threading flowers into the bullet holes that adorn the metal shutter of a ransacked sushi restaurant. The Sky News website privileges the hot clips. Watch them flee from a smoking concert hall, see a pregnant woman hang from the side of a building. They don’t know whether she lived or died yet. Gillis reads a snarky piece on a blog saying that once it was established Josh Homme was not playing with the Eagles of Death Metal at the Bataclan the volume of queries on Twitter about their survival dipped. Someone in the comments section had posted, “Shootings at Bataclan. Crime against humanity. A great service for music.”

Gillis briefly scanned the attendant outrage. Social media and online culture quickly processed and rendered meretricious the most appalling human tragedies through an accelerated cycle of shock, understanding and finally indifference. Everything was quickly relegated to the footnotes. Wha! Huh? Meh…

Gillis was sharply twisted by a tightening of his right arm and pressure from within his chest. He lay fearful on the couch, afraid to breathe in case it precipitated a knitting needle to the heart. The discomfort and his hesitation passed and Gillis inwardly dismissed it as chronic indigestion but a sense of discord refused to leave him.  When he was younger he was afraid of not existing, his consciousness ending, no longer being around, death was an affront to even Gillis’ scorched ego. Now it all seemed a release from his fruitless routine and alienation that was taking on a fatalistic hue. On, for what, but yet still here I go.  Gillis was afraid of the pain through natural death, as only through the extremities of accident, murder or suicide was extinction brought quickly. The best he could hope for was an annihilating heart attack in lieu of being chewed up by cancer. No matter, there would be pain, he was sure of that.  Gillis opened a bottle of red wine and poured half of it into a large mug. He cautiously took a sip wanting to gauge the reaction of his stomach; it only lurched slightly so he proceeded with measured gulps which eased his dissonance. Gillis needed a distraction and thought wistfully about Cum in my Cunt. Maybe he had missed bits of her profile last night in his desire to close down conscious thought. Gillis had overlooked a lot. Scrolling down to the bottom of her main profile pics there was a customer feedback section in chronological order, seventy three reviews in total. Cum in my Cunt had been listed since January 2013. Thanks to her mate Dave for helping her set her account up and profile. She joined because she’s always horny and thought she might as well get paid for it. Her profile has been updated. She’s knackered her phone so you’d have to text. Cum in my Cunt confessed to being disheartened by all the time wasters, and she was ready to start naming and shaming those who skipped bookings and the contrived pretexts for cancellations. Why they’d be blaming it on lions escaping from the safari park next.  She was also anxious to negate the allegation she was racist by declining to service Asian men. They were always pushy and haggled over money and they weren’t her type physically. Sorry fellas nothing personal!  The customer reviews are in batches of five and he reads the first lot. She has an overall rating of six stars out of ten.

Wendy is a top bird real warm and friendly puts you at ease. Awesome oral!

Expensive afternoon but a good pro.

Wow! Can she suck cock! Great sloppy bj! Can’t wait for next meeting!

This lady RACIST!!! She refuse Asian bookings but she sucking a black off in her pics

Spent a wonderful afternoon with Wendy and her friend, a pair of lovely classy ladies who put on a show that blew my mind.

Gillis had read enough. So her name was Wendy, a sex worker of average talents but some industry. No mystery, just prosaic actuality, and her mate Dave. He thought about her life, the relentless sucking and fucking, inside her house, at swingers clubs, in the back of cars, out in the woods. She’s awful horny. Cum anywhere. Gillis wonders what passed for Wendy’s friends and neighbours made of it all, her family, her kids. They surely must know, it’s all out there. Wendy’s, if that was her fucking name, house would have a reputation as the local brass den and he could imagine why her punters would be spooked into cancellation, all the curtains surreptitiously parted when they parked up, mockery in the streets from the local kids, maybe they take a picture of you and threaten to post it everywhere just for jolly. Everyone knows.  And there would be the astringent trolling to absorb as well but her craziness would see her through all that. So this is what filled the emptiness for him, the secret imaginary lives of others.  Gillis rolled five cigarettes for later. Oh well, it had been an entertainment. It is darkening outside. He takes a fluoxetine with red wine then switches on the table lamp and draws the curtains.

Gillis had retired to bed with the remainder of his vodka from last night. He’d smoked a joint in the kitchen and shakily made his way upstairs with bottle and laptop. The disorientation and paranoia the skunk had at the outset instilled in him had gone and he was mellow. He was on an oral creampie jag and watched a clip on YouPorn tagged ‘Cougar sucking a big dick and swallowing’.

It looked like it had been filmed on an IPhone.  Gillis wasn’t sure if it’s an amateur flick distributed as revenge porn or a gonzo loop. The guy, what you could see of him, a shaky POV shot of his waxed cock and muscular stomach, the tremulousness of the image captured understandable given the cougar’s technocratic application. The billed cougar, who only seemed late twenties if that, had a deeply tanned body that incongruously supported a pale neck and head, and big unyielding brown tits that could only belong to commercial aspirations. Attractive as the cougar was, she not quite beautiful, and it was the not quite that saw her sucking cock for money. You could see the appeal, 25 minutes of a dong in your mouth, subject to edits six minutes of sword swallowing going on screen, and you had the day to yourself, it was all yoga and facials. They had great discipline these girls, no coffee a day before a reverse cowgirl scene in case they voided their bowels and no pizza before a deep throat scene so didn’t spew pepperoni on their co-star’s balls. Gilllis, fucked and supine, is quietly appalled by the specious esoterica that floods his brain.  Hitler at Salzburg, the Fuhrer would stare at the sky all night, as if under the influence of a somnambulist,  contemplating the mountains lit up by the moon, all accompanied by melancholy Wagnerian rumbles, gestating his final artistic vision, the orange sun bouncing off the  pink mountain tops as bodies slither into the pit. The clip stopped buffering. Cougar has long dark hair parted dead centre going past her shoulders, expressive pale blue eyes, buttery skin buried underneath too much foundation, pouty lips that at least looked natural. She’s almost starlet material but the chin’s a little too weak the nose too hooked. The guy was a groaner and saying stuff like ‘I can’t believe it! O my god you just did that!’

The cougar is smoking his pipe the hardcore way. Suck the balls, lick the pole and then enclose bee stung lips round the tip while they shake their false nails off pumping steroid dulled pricks. “Wanna see it?”

“Hell yeah!”

An oyster on her tongue.

Cougar demurely swallows with not the slightest hint of a gag and does a cute thing with her eyes that exudes a playful intelligence.

“You’re too much!””

She looks at him mmmm and with a final lick and smoochy kiss of his cock the Cougar disengages.

“That was fun.” Cougar springs up and you see her long legs and slut heels.

“You’re too much!”

She does a sweet wave.

“Is that it?”

The hand of the cock is squeezing out a valedictory droplet. Cougar laughs, “That’s it.”

“Where’s the romance?”

Cougar’s laughter is freezing as she slips into the bathroom. Gillis holds his fat in his hands wishing he could rip it all off and melt it like wax.  I should just be shot in the back of the head and kicked into a ditch, Gillis thinks, but I’m not alone in this, I live the weekends of many. We’ve had it, bled white, finished. Nothing to be done. Gillis fades to black.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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