Chapter 5
Meryl P., a seventeen-year-old "call girl" relates how she found herself in "business." Her particular case may be unique-as may be the characters involved in her case history-but there are many young people who are similar to Meryl, among our friends and neighbors, or even ourselves.
Meryl was the third child of parents for whom life was a never-ending struggle. When she was seven, her mother gave birth to a child who died after six days. Her father, who was a house-painter, dramatized the tragedy. His "grief" was assuaged at the neighborhood bar and even after his mind was so benumbed by alcohol that he could hardly remember his own name, he would chisel drinks from the other customers.
His wife had long ago accepted his inadequacy to earn their livelihood and she took on various housework jobs.
Earlier she had fought with her lazy husband, but by the time Meryl came along, she had accepted the pattern of her life and had begun to talk and think like her husband. She talked of "the rich get richer and the poor get poorer" and "them that has, gets," and all the other cliches of the under-privileged. She got into the habit of taking things from the homes in which she worked and condoning her actions with platitudes about the "extra time" she never charged for and "they expect us to pad out our pay this way."
"When I was a kid, I got so I didn't know which one of them was on the speaker's platform," Meryl related. "Both made the same sounds, the same lies, the same excuses. Except for the tone of voice, it was hard to tell which one was doing the griping."
By the time Meryl was ten, the city welfare workers had realized the hopelessness of spurring the father into any consistent work habit and had privately resigned themselves to furnishing support for the family. It was with this stigma of permanent welfare and charity hand-outs that Meryl entered junior high school. Although the school numbered far more poverty-stricken students than rich ones, Meryl found herself at the bottom even of the deprived groups.
There was one subtle difference, however. Most of the other youngsters had fairly well accepted their status in life. Meryl did not. She watched the richer young people and wondered about ways in which she might be like them. She did not delude herself that either her father or mother would ever provide the key. She knew even then that it was up to her if she were to break free from the filthy neighborhood where she lived.
Meryl was a pretty and well-built girl at sixteen. She watched the way the better girls in school dressed and tried to come as close to their styling as her poverty would permit. She baby-sat at every opportunity and when she earned a little money she would invest it in clothing purchased at "economy" stores. She also patterned her manner of speech upon the upper-bracket group, and without appearing too ambitious, she began to form friendships with those girls. She knew that once the girls accepted her, acceptance by the boys would follow.
"One rainy afternoon, I came home from school," Meryl told. My mother-was out ironing for the Johnson family which meant she wouldn't be back till six. My dad was 'checking' for jobs with the local union. That meant he was really at the bar lapping up all the free drinks he could cadger. My older brother, Mac, had stayed late at school for basketball practice.
"I thought I was alone in the house. I got the idea of looking through Dad's room. He sometimes had sexy things hidden away and I never knew what I'd find. I started searching for reefers which I suspected he might have. I found two of them between the mattress cover and the mattress. They were carefully wrapped in waxed paper to keep them safe.
"I thought I'd try one. I got a match from the kitchen and lit up. I took a deep drag like I'd seen them do in the movies. Nothing much happened. I took another couple of puffs and made sure I inhaled all the way. After a little while, I got a nice feeling. It was as if time were standing still. Everything seemed much nicer. The colors in the room didn't look drab any more. They glowed and shimmered. I felt relaxed. I stretched out on the bed and took another nice puff. Then I saw it. Up in the dusty old glass lamp shade that hung from the cracked ceiling, I saw something inside. I knew right away, my dear dad had put it up there. It had to be something he was doubly anxious to keep away from prying eyes. I got a chair and by putting a foot-stool on top of that I could reach into the lamp shade for what was hidden there.
"It was a small photo album. Pictures of Dad and his crowd. They had evidently gotten hold of a Polaroid camera and taken all these pictures. The pictures were not very good from a photographer's standpoint. Some were too dark, some too light. But they made up for it in other ways. They were action shots of a gang-fuck. And old Dad was right among the leaders.
"In one shot, he was stripped nude, like all the rest, and had this big hard-on. A girl who was about twenty-five was on her knees in front of him. She was a dark-haired chick and I remembered seeing her with the crowd once or twice at the taco stand. I think her old man was a Puerto Rican and her mother German. She looked pure Latin. She weighed about one sixty and most of it was in her tits and ass. She had her mouth wrapped tight around the end of Dad's dick and she was smiling up at him. He had this 'cat-eating-pussy' look on his face as his hand rested on her dark hair.
"Another shot showed Dad holding her in his lap. He was holding the end of her great big tit in his mouth and she had her arms around his head to keep him close. From the way she was squatted on his lap, I knew his dick was up in her.
"There were other shots of other things. One guy was ramming his dick up the ass of a slim girl who was gnawing on the dick of another guy laying on his back. One shot that got to me was two young girls who couldn't have been any older than me. They were sixty-nining it. I found my butt twitching a little as I saw this. It looked like something I'd enjoy. I'd never been banged up to that point in my life.
"Suddenly the door opened and there was Dad. I hadn't heard him. He had been down in the basement and from the look on his face, I think he was having himself a little 'pot' session. He looked sort of glazed and bleary-eyed. But he snapped out of it when he saw me laying on his bed with one of his reefers in my hand, looking at his collection of pictures.
"What the hell are you doing in here?" He moved up fast and grabbed the pictures out of my hand. He was sore as hell. He glared down at the reefer in my hand and knocked it out of my fingers. It fell on the bare floor and he stamped it out fast. Then, he picked up the crushed butt and shoved it in his pants pocket.
"I was in a bind and I knew it. He had caught me with my pants down. Smoking a reefer and spying on his fuck-book! He came toward me and he was really mad. I held my breath, scared he was going to slug me. I had to save my hide. 'You hit me and I'll tell Mom about you in those pictures!' I stared back at him, but I was tight inside.
"You little bitch," he gritted the words out. 'Get out of my room and stay out! The next time I catch you in here, I'll strangle you, so help me!' He meant it, too. I didn't dare move. I just lay there, staring up at him. He waited.
"I knew I had to make a move sooner or later. I decided to pay it cool. More of less ease my way out. Stalling for time, I said, 'Those pictures-when did you take them?' He glowered at me, and finally answered: 'None of your damn business!' I asked another question. 'Are you in love with that dark girl?'
"In love?" He looked disgustedly down at me. 'Yeah, I'm in love! I'm in love with her big, hairy snatch!' He shook his head at me. 'That's all you broads are good for! A fast fuck!'
"I picked this up. I told him not to use such dirty talk around me. I figured it was best to get him on the defense to ease out of the jam. After all, he had caught me smoking a reefer and I was looking at his sex pictures.
"Don't hand me that crap!" he sneered at me. 'You're playing the part of some kind of fancy dame and all the time you're smoking one of my reefers and creaming your pants over pictures of some hard action! Who do you think you're kidding?'
"He suddenly reached down and grabbed my hand and yanked hard to get me out of his bed. I didn't want him shoving me around so I tried to pull free. He yanked harder and I found myself falling toward the floor. I grabbed onto him to keep from falling. I was up close to his waist. My tits were pressed tight to his body. I hung on grimly. He tried to work my arms loose. He was really sore. But I was pretty strong for a kid and it wasn't easy to get clear of my locked arms. 'Let go, you little bitch!' He lifted his fist to smack me. I buried my face against his chest to protect myself. Then, it happened. He didn't slug me. I could sense a change coming over him. I could feel his dick inside his pants. It was getting hard. Really big and hard. We just hung on like that for a few seconds. The dick kept growing. He was hung like a bull. I felt like it was going to shove right through to me. I began wiggling a little. I figured if I got him hot enough, he'd forget his plan to slug me. He forgot that, but he was getting more interested in something else. Me.
"I could feel his hands moving down to my sweater. He yanked it up and over my shoulders. It couldn't go up further because I still had my arms tightly locked around his middle. Now, he reached down and yanked my short skirt up over my hips. I had on cotton panties and he ripped those off like they were paper. He shoved me back onto the bed. He worked his dick out of his pants and jammed it up between my thighs. I was scared, but I liked the feeling, I kept my thighs together but I let them slip just a bit as the big head of his dick kept working up against me. He got the head partly up and then he rammed it in all the way. He wasn't copping any cherry, if that's what he was hoping for. I'd taken care of that when I was just starting to grow fuzz. I'd used bananas, candles, weenies and anything that looked like a dick. But none of them were as big or felt as hard as the dick my dad jammed up my snatch. It hurt. It hurt like hell. But he didn't care. He pounded it up and up into me. I felt like it might come out of my mouth from the way he kept shoving. Then, he shot his wad inside of me. He finished all the way and got up off of me. He shook his fist under my nose and warned me if I told anybody what he'd done, he'd kill me.
"A few weeks later, he caught me alone again and he humped me good. I acted like I wasn't anxious but I liked the feeling, This time it was better because I could relax more. He used a rubber on me and I didn't have to worry about getting knocked up. That second time we did it twice before we called it quits.
"Another rainy day, he came back home and caught me up in my room doing homework. We had the place to ourselves. He was pretty sure of himself. He walked in and stood behind me. He let his hands drop down and he cupped my tits in them. He ran his hands round and round, centering on the nipples. They started to stiffen up on me, but I kept right on doing my homework.
"He pulled away and I didn't even look around. I could tell he was undressing from the sounds. Then, he walked around in front of me. He was naked. His dick was sticking out like a flagpole. I had to admit he was all man down there. He held it in his hand and waved it at me.
"I don't have any rubbers on me today," he smiled smugly. 'But there's more than one way to fuck! I'm going to let you blow me!'
"That's what you think," I said. I didn't look at him, but from the corner of my eye I could see him standing there with that big dick in his hand, not quite sure what to do with it.
"Come on," he muttered, 'quit playing that good-girl bit on me. You want it as much as I do!' "Get lost," I told him.
"That really frosted him. He started calling me dirty names, like prick-teaser. He couldn't think of enough things to tack onto me. I just played it cool. Then he changed his tone. He moved up close to me. He asked me if I remembered the new square-toed slippers with the brass buckles that I had been trying to save up enough money to buy. He asked me how much more cash I had to have to get the slippers. I told him. He walked over to where his jeans were and pulled out his wallet. He took out four wrinkled dollar bills and brought them to me. He shoved the money under my nose. He said it was mine if I came across with what he wanted.
"Those slippers meant a lot to me. I grabbed the money fast and put it in a safe place in the bureau where I had a little secret hiding place in the bottom drawer. I was thrilled about the fact that now I could have the slippers. I smiled invitingly at Dad. 'Because you're such a good guy, I'm going to let you strip me,' I invited. He was hot. He grabbed my blouse and had it off my back so fast, it made my head swim. He almost ripped my bra off in his hurry, but he managed to get it down without ruining things. Then, he unzipped my short skirt and had my panties down around my ankles as he pulled the skirt off. He wasn't wasting any time. Then he got his first jolt.
"Christ!" He snarled like an animal. 'Why the hell didn't you tell me you were flying the flag!' He shook his head as he stared at me.
"I've got other ways to make you happy," I said. I leaned down and let my lips flick across his dick. I straightened up and led him to my bed. I gently pushed him back and he let me do it. Then, I lay across his waist and I dropped my mouth down to home-plate. I hadn't sucked anybody off in my life, but I had read enough about it to know what to do. I found that I liked the taste. I began running my tongue around the head and letting it work into the little hole at the very end of his dick. I tried some other little tricks. I let my tongue lick the bottom of his dick all the way to the balls. Then, I'd take one ball right into my mouth and suck. I alternated between the two balls and then I'd work back along the length of his hot rod and start sucking the big head. He started shivering and shaking. I was pretty proud of the way I could steam him up. I wanted to give him his full four dollars worth, and so every time he was about to come, I'd pull away and let him simmer down enough for me to start all over again. I stole some looks at his face while I was blowing him and he was in seventh heaven. His mouth was wide open and he was gasping for air. He had his eyes closed and he rolled his head from side to side. I worked him over till he was wet clear around to his ass. Just for the fun of it. I licked and sucked on the cheeks of his ass to stir him up more. I had him almost to the full explosion. Then, I fastened my mouth onto his dick and sucked like a vacuum cleaner. In a great, big surge, he shot it all. I was going to spit it out but all of a sudden, I decided to swallow the whole works. And I did. I liked the taste. Something like tapioca pudding. I licked and sucked at his dick till it hung limp like a piece of string.
"Was that worth four bucks?" I whispered to him.
"It must have been. The next week, he got me to one side and said he only had two bucks on him but he'd pay me the rest later. I took him on again and this time I even supplied the rubber. I had borrowed a pack of them from a girl who was in my gym class who was humping guys all the time and made no secret about it.
"But Dad was a real chiseler. He tried to act like he had forgotten his promise to pay me more later. He tried to take me on again but for only three bucks. I told him he was going to pay the going rate or no dice.
"You're nothing but a little whore!" He looked mad enough to kill me. I started to walk away from him, but he grabbed my arm. 'Okay, okay, I'll pay!' he said. And he did, lots of times after that.
"I decided to branch out. No use putting my eggs all in one basket, I figured. I told him if any of his pals wanted a piece, they could have it, too. But the price was five bucks for them. He wasn't too keen on pimping for me, but I made him a tempting offer. I told him for each new customer, I'd blow him for free!
"That really started me in business. I had an average of three customers a week. At five bucks a throw, I was earning fifteen bucks for business and pleasure combined. I could get those guys to come in about ten minutes. If they wanted more, it was another five bucks.
"Slowly, I began getting a little smarter. I was a good-looking young chick and I was giving it to these cheap punks for five bucks. I decided to get into the big time. I asked questions and I heard about a guy who handled girls. I looked him up and told him I was interested in making a little pocket money. He sized me up and he liked what he saw.
"Look, kid," he said, as his eyes ran over my tits and down to my ass. 'I represent some important people. They don't just settle for any young piece of San Quentin quiff that comes along. Just because a gal's got nice legs and a good-looking pair of boobs doesn't mean she can cut the mustard with 'em'. He added slowly: 'How do I know you're capable?'
"Fucking's believing," I said with a little smile. 'I'll give you a preview.' I dropped my hand down to his fly and unzipped him. I pulled out his dick and it began to get hard in my hand. I was on my knees and had it between my lips. I put on a great show. I ran my tongue up and down into the opening of his dick just like I had with my dad. I worked my tongue all the way back to his balls and got my mouth into his pants to suck on them. I worked on him a long time. I thought he'd never cream, but at last he did. To show him what a good trick I really was, I swallowed his load. It tasted a little different from my dad's. But it wasn't bad. This time I thought more of rice pudding than tapioca. When I finished, he was good and limp. 'Well?' I looked him in the eye.
"Kid," he nodded approval, 'you and me are gonna make us some money!'
"He wasn't just woofin', either. He told me to call him later at a number he gave me. I did and he answered. He acted on guard until he remembered me. 'Okay, kid,' he said. 'I got your first job for you.' He gave me the name and address. 'Get there at eight sharp.' He paused. 'He'll pay you in cash. It's fifty bucks!' I gasped. That was so much more than I had made for humping my dad. 'Now, you get half and I get half,' he added. That cut the margin of profit down, but it was still good.
"I arrived at the house right on time. It was a really nice set-up. Two car garage, big front lawn, two story home. The guy had money, that was for sure. I went up to the door and rang the bell. The door opened and a fat guy who had to be about forty was there in a flashy dressing gown. I told him who I was and he let me in. He studied me under the light. 'Not bad, not bad,' he nodded. 'How old are you?' I didn't know what to say. If I told him I was only sixteen, he'd get scared, maybe. I swallowed hard and he saved me. 'Never mind. Our contract told me you were sixteen and I can see that's about right.' He led me back into the den. It was fancy, with guns and stuffed animal heads on the walls. And lots of pictures of him and other guys in hunting outfits.
"He got me a drink. It was some sort of strong brandy and I almost choked on it. But I got it down and I began to relax. He sat staring at me. I was wearing my shortest skirt and I knew it did nice things for my legs and thighs. He told me to take off my clothes and I did. I played it nice to build him up. I minced around real elegant so he could see my cute ass and tits. He started stripping. He was even fatter than I thought. He had tits almost as big as mine. He was soft and white from the neck down. Pretty soon, he got a whip. I had heard of these boys who got their jollies by whipping girls. I didn't like the idea at all: But the whip turned out to be a phony. It was made of soft, black cotton. He handed it to me. He also handed me one of those big hunting hats, like the Australians wear. He liked the way it looked on me. He pulled me to a full length mirror in the bathroom and I looked at myself. I really shaped up pretty sharp that way. The big broad-brimmed hat was tipped at an angle and my face and body were set off great. The whip gave me a certain special look too. I began to like the idea better.
"He led me back out and got a dog collar that he put around his neck. He explained to me: 'You're the hunting master. I'm your faithful hunting dog.' He got down on his hands and knees and started acting like a dog. He bounced around, growling, snapping and all the rest. He told me to snap the whip over him. I did and of course, it didn't hurt, being so soft. He ordered me to pretend to whip him hard. I did and he acted like a dog would. He whimpered and cowered. Then, he crept up to me and started licking my feet. He licked up to my ankles and then up to my knees', up to my thighs and then he was licking my snatch. He went at it just like an animal would. He growled and whined as he sucked me. He ran his tongue way up inside of my cunt. I started having an orgasm. He never stopped. I counted my orgasms and had seven before he quit for air. Then he said we would trade parts. He was the big hunter and I was the dog. I gave him the whip and hat and I took the collar. I had to do the whole bit on him. I crawled on the floor but I skipped the part about licking his feets and legs. I started on the knees and worked up quickly. I was anxious to get my money and go home. I didn't want to be out too late. I had told my mom I was going to the library and it closed at nine. So I worked his dong over fast but good. He had a very small one. Less than half the size of my dad's. But I got him going and he shot his load. Not really a load. He shot very little compared to what I used to catch from Dad. I began to think that maybe I should've paid Dad instead of him paying me!
"Once he had had his kicks, it was over fast. He got dressed and I put my clothes back on. He handed me five ten dollar bills and thanked me very politely. Just like that! It had to be the easiest and pleasantest fifty I had ever earned. Well, not really fifty. I still had to pay my agent half. It seemed unfair all of a sudden. I did all the work and my pimp picked up just as much. I knew than that I'd be going into business for myself soon. But I wasn't ready yet. I had to build up a list of customers first.
"The next night I had another assignment. This was a dark Italian-looking guy who was about thirty. He was husky and hard. He was tough, too. He lived in a not-so-good neighborhood about ten blocks from my house so I walked over. I went up to the second floor where his room was, and buzzed. The door opened two inches and this cold eye looked out. I told him my name and he let me in.
"As fancy as the other place had been, this one was dumpy. There was one room and a bathroom and a small kitchenette. The rent couldn't have been more than sixty a month. I even wondered if I would get paid. He must have read my mind, because he took out a wallet and handed me a fifty dollar bill. 'I pay as I go, doll.' He didn't stall around. He stepped close to me and I felt my sweater coming off over my head. In less than I minute I was stripped naked. He walked around me, sizing me up. He kept making little grunts. I couldn't tell if he liked me or not, but I stood nice and straight with my tits up proudly. He began taking off his clothes.
"I was glad I had brought rubbers along. This guy looked like he could knock up a harem. He had muscles like a weightlifter. And hairy! He must've been part gorilla. But it wasn't till I saw his dick that I realized my dad was still a beginner. This guy's dick hung down a good seven inches from his balls. And as it started stiffening, it kept growing. It didn't stop stretching till it stood out straight and thick. A good ten inches!
"I got jittery when he started toward me and I told him he better put on a rubber. 'Why?' He eyed me with this narrow look. 'You think you get kids out your ass?' He didn't bother with build-up. He grabbed me with his big hands and spun me around. He shoved me to my hands and knees. Then, I felt it. His massive dick was trying to get into my asshole!
"He worked it around and around. It wouldn't go in. He started muttering curses under his breath. He got off me and went into the bathroom and came out with a big jar of vaseline in his hand. He scooped up a generous glob with the other hand and started smearing it up my ass. I was afraid it wasn't going to work. He was too big and thick for little old me. But I didn't want to get him sore, either. He looked like the kind of guy who could be trouble.
"He finished lubrucating my hole and then he got into position to let me have it again. And to my surprise, he worked it up inside! The vaseline had done the trick. I won't say it didn't hurt. I wasn't too used to that kind of stuff. But he was. He knew how to angle his dick so it could get in. He started working it back and forth into me. And slowly, my muscles began to take it better. I even started wiggling my ass a little to give him a kick. He had to stop now and then, because he was getting close to coming. I could feel the heat coming from his hard, hairy frame. He was over me like a blanket. Then, he finally blew. It felt like a firehose going off inside me. He really pounded and fucked then. I could hardly keep in position with all that weight bearing down.
"Finally, it was over. He started pulling his dick out of my ass and I swear he must've pulled out yards before he finally 'splooshed' out. That's the noise, exactly, 'Sploosh!' He motioned for me to get dressed. I was done for the night. He hadn't touched my tits once. He hadn't gotten any closer to my snatch than my butt. But he was satisfied. 'Don't you want to play with my tits....or something else?' I wanted to give him his money's worth. He shook his head to indicate he wasn't interested. 'I'm a Greek, kid,' he said. 'I was born in Athens and came over here when I was eight. But I was there long enough to learn the Greek way. There's no pussy in the world that can come close to a nice tight ass!' He thought to himself a second. 'I guess I'm what you'd call a queer Greek, because I don't go for boys. I like girls!' He winked at me and then I finished dressing and left.
"In all my time as a call girl, I didn't think I ever once met a guy who wanted to do it like it was supposed to be done. Every one had some little hang-up. Some had bigger hang-ups than others. Like, one Sunday afternoon I had a customer who set up a meeting with me at three o'clock in his apartment. Now, that had to be the classiest place of all. It was a penthouse apartment. No neighbors up there. They were all below! The place looked like the kind of apartment you see in the decorating magazines. First, you had to go through an entry hall that was as big as our whole house. There were big, expensive paintings on the wall. I saw names on those paintings that I had seen in the Modern Art section of our museum. And these weren't copies. They were the real thing. After I went through the hall I found myself in a living room to end them all. It was at least fifty feet long and nearly as wide.
"The guy who lived there looked exactly like you think he would. He was about forty and really good-looking. He had thick, wavy blond hair and a smooth, tanned skin. When he smiled, his teeth practically glistened. He was wearing what they call a smoking jacket, but he wasn't smoking.
"He treated me like I was a guest rather than just a fuck. He led me to a seat on the big divan near the fireplace and asked what I would like to drink. I couldn't make up my mind. Actually, all I really wanted was a cold soft drink or something like that, but I didn't dare ask for that in such plush surroundings. While I was wondering what to ask for, he suggested I try a certain wine that he had just gotten that week. 'One of the better years,' he said. He brought out a bottle and some glasses, and made a lot of fuss opening the bottle. He poured a tiny bit into his glass and then tasted it before he poured my glass full. We sipped and I have to admit it was something else. It was fragrant....you could almost smell the fresh grapes. It made me feel warm inside as I drank it. We each had another glass and then he offered me a cigarette. I wasn't much for smoking, but I wanted to seem sophisticated so I took one.
"I was there at least forty-five minutes before he suggested we undress. I slipped out of my things and he walked around to admire me. 'A lovely body, my dear. Exciting.' He admired me for another couples of minutes and then he started to take off his clothes. But not all of them. He kept his shorts on. I wondered why. But I had learned not to ask questions. He disappeared for a moment or two and then he came back. He started strapping a great big rubber dick on over his shorts. He did it very calmly and I just stood there staring at the strange sight. When the rubber cock was in place he came over to me. He lifted my face up so that he could look into my eyes. He began gently patting my cheek and smiling at me. All of a sudden, he pulled back his hand and slapped me hard across the face. I gasped in pain and surprise. He slapped me hard again. 'Now, you filthy slut,' he said, 'get down on your knees and eat my cock!' He forced me down and waved the big rubber cock in front of my face. I didn't know what to do so he did it for me. He grabbed me by the hair and forced my head back and as I opened my mouth to cry out, he rammed the big rubber device all the way down my throat so I almost choked. Then he kept working it in and out of my mouth as he kept muttering for me to 'Eat it, you bitch! Eat it! Suck on it, hear? Suck with all your might!' I had to do what he wanted, so I went through the motions.
"After a few minutes of this, he made me get on my back and then he rammed the rubber dick up into me. He shoved it up as far as it would go and then he started humping. All the time he was humping, he kept murmuring into my ear. 'How do you like a real king-sized cock in your dirty hole, huh? How do you like it?' He acted like a real nut now. He kept banging that big rubber dick up into my cunt. I had to take it. I was afraid to give him any trouble. He had this crazy look in his eyes and I was wishing I had never kept this date.
"But the big switch was later. After we were finished to his satisfaction, he got dressed and so did I. He was the perfect gentleman again. He insisted I have more wine and he paid me in a subtle way. He handed me a sealed envelope and he said it was a little token for 'the pleasure of your visit, my dear."
"When I got safely outside and downstairs, I opened the envelope to check if he had really put in my fifty bucks. He hadn't. There was no fifty dollar bill inside. Instead, there was a brand new crisp one hundred dollar bill! As I started for home, all of a sudden I felt sorry for him. Really sorry.
"When I was about seventeen I went into business for myself. I was sick of paying half of all I earned to that cheap pimp who lined up my customers. I had enough steady work to keep me busy. I was even saving a little. I used to give my mom a twenty or even a fifty dollar bill now and then. I told her I was working as a model and could afford it. She wanted to know where my pictures would be but I said my work was mostly for the wholesale dress trade and that the dresses and things I modeled were only used to help sell customers who were too far away to come in for personal showings. She believed me. My father didn't.
"He got me aside once when I had given my mom a fifty dollar bill. 'Hey, big lady,' he said with this wise look on his face. 'How about helping your poor underprivileged dad out, too?' I played it cool. 'How much do you need?' I asked him. 'It isn't money I want,' he said. 'I'd like a piece of ass. You've been peddling it all over town, how about letting me in on a little bit of it? After all, I was the one who gave you your first break!'
"I told him I sure remembered the first break he gave me. And because I did, my fee was fifty buck to him, just like to any other customer. T get it,' he said. 'You're setting up the fifty buck angle because you know I haven't got it.' He studied me. 'It proves what I always knew. Nobody can satisfy you like I can! Nobody!' I gave him a look that would curl the hair on a brass monkey. 'Bull!' I said. 'B-U-L-L!' I spelled it out for him. 'And I'm too much of a lady to finish the rest of the word!'
"He kept needling me. He said I was in love with him and that all my hustling was just to help me forget him. He claimed I pretended like it was the money I wanted, but I really wanted to put him out of my mind. He was obviously sold on this idea. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I had to laugh and I did, right in his face. That made him sore. He said he'd prove to me that I really was in love with him. I told him to start proving. He held up his hand and swore that he would. All of a sudden, I got this funny feeling that maybe he was right. Maybe I really was in love with my father-the first man who ever fucked me!
"I found out two weeks later. One night, I had just taken a hot bath and was relaxing in my own little apartment. I was earning good money, but I didn't believe in blowing it on too many unnecessary things. Most of my business was done at the place of the customer. I only had three or four regulars who came to see me. They were married and they didn't want their wives to know how they were cheating on the side. Anyway, when the doorbell rang, I figured it was my landlady. She used to stop by now and then to leave some message for me. She never let on that she knew what I was doing for my living, but I knew she was too smart to be taken in. She never made waves and we had this little unspoken agreement; I minded my fucking business, and she minded hers.
"I went to the door in my bathrobe. I opened it and who was there but my dear dad. 'May I come in, your royal majesty?' He could really be sarcastic when he wanted to. I didn't have much choice but to let him in. He had seen my place once or twice before. But I had gotten him out fast. This time, he walked around slowly, looking at things. I wondered what he had on that mind of his. He didn't keep it a secret long. 'You still peddling your puss for fifty bucks a throw?' he asked. I told him that I was thinking of hiking the ante, but that I hadn't made up my mind yet. He nodded approvingly.
"I couldn't keep myself from looking at him with a new perspective. Was I really-whether I knew it or not--in love with my own father? It was a wild idea, strangely exciting.
"He took out his wallet and picked out five ten dollar bills and handed them to me. I stared at him. At first, I thought he was repaying me for the money I'd been dishing out to the family. That was really a bad guess. 'Okay, doll,' he said. 'Strip down. I'm buying your pretty pussy for the night!' How about that for a kick? A call girl selling herself to her own dad. All of a sudden, I didn't want it that way. I shoved the money back at him. 'Keep it,' I said. 'I'm not interested."
"He grabbed my robe and ripped it loose. I was naked now. He took the money and rammed it savagely between my thighs. 'You take it, hear?' He grabbed me to him and started kissing me. He caught my lips and began shoving his long tongue in and out of my mouth. I tried to hold him off, but it was no use. He dropped his lips down to my tits. Here, he caught the nipples and began sucking on each of them in turn. He was so worked up, his wildness began to get me. Suddenly, I found myself liking it. He worked his face down. He was on his knees and now, he had his twisting, darting tongue going in and out of my pussy like a fiery sword. I began opening wider for him. He forced me down on the floor where he could get at me better. I was now on my back. His head was between my thighs. He was running his tongue an incredible length up into me. He must have had lots of practice at eating pussy. My thighs were encircling his head and I began to tighten my hold on him. That drove him on to greater excitement. He was sucking and drawing on my cunt and it was driving me crazy. I couldn't help myself. 'Take off your clothes,' I begged him. 'Take everything off!' I finally got him away from my pussy and ripped his clothes off. When he was naked, that set me off even wilder.
"He sat on the floor and began kissing my pussy from behind while I leaned forward and looked toward his feet. I could see his big dick standing up stiff and straight. I knew I had to eat it. I eased forward so that I was on my hands and knees. He never lost touch with my old pussy and as a matter-of-fact, he sped up his tongue going into me as I was lowering myself.
"I was just about to move my lips down to his dick when I got a good idea. I had used it on a couple of my customers and it sent them to the moon. I let my tits dangle down. Then I worked the nipples lightly across the head of his dick. I just barely let each nipple flick across. I swayed back and forth so that it created a steady and pendulum-like motion. One of my gal-pals who hustled for her living told me this was technically called 'butterflying it.' It felt great to me and I could see it was boiling Dad up but good. When I felt sure he was steamed, I let my mouth down and I ran my tongue onto his dick and wrapped it up tightly. I was a pretty good cocksucker by then and I knew what to do. I worked my tongue along the full length both top and bottom. Every so often, I would pull in my tongue and nibble with my teeth gently on his rock-hard dick. He didn't ease up on his end, though, I'll say that.
"He not only worked his tongue in and out of my pussy, but he'd pull all the way out every once in a while, and then run it all the way up the old dirt road. The Greek guy had done a great job of opening me up down there and I could take a tongue like it was a match stick.
"I got to hand it to my dad. He knew what to do too. Just as I was about to cream, he'd pull his tongue out and work my butt all over again. I was getting ready to beg him for his dick but I hated to let him know how strongly he affected me. I covered up my emotion by sucking and working his dick as I had never sucked any other. I clung like a leech to his dick. I had learned how to develop even more sucking power by breath control. Most beginning girls are too short-winded to do the job right. Not me. I even took deep-breathing exercises with just this in mind.
"To my relief, he worked loose of me and now he pulled back as he shoved me forward a couple of feet. He was still on his back looking up and I was face downward but he had a good angle on my pussy with his dick. He held my hips tightly as he inched his dick into me.
"He had another little trick here that was good. He'd lift his knees up, which hoisted me up by the belly so that my butt was lower than my chest. From this angle, he could shove way up and get to where it counted. He worked away in a nice, smooth rhythm. He must have practiced this plenty with other babes. I wondered if that heavy Puerto Rican broad had enjoyed him like this. It made me a little jealous. I determined to show him that I was better than that big, fat slob.
"I had learned another good grabber in my trade. I could tighten my pussy and then relax it. I had practiced it with bananas and I found I could mash a banana like it was rolled under a bread board. The old cunt muscles respond to training, I don't care what kind. And I had lots of strength down there. I clamped my pussy down as hard as I could on Dad's big dick. And I could feel how I had him locked in. Then I'd slowly ease up and it would let him free. But only for a second. Then I'd repeat. Each time I did it, I tried to squeeze a little harder. I squeezed as hard as I possibly could and Dad whimpered! He whimpered like a puppy. 'Give up?' I demanded. 'Give up?'
"It was like a kid game, but believe it or not we were both in dead earnest. This was a test between us. I turned my powerful pussy muscles on even tighter. I knew I could clamp like a vise. He didn't want to admit that I was better. He groaned, but he wouldn't give me the satisfaction of telling me how good I was. He resisted with that big dick and try as I would I couldn't come up with that extra little bit of pressure that would have won. I finally weakened. Then he became the aggressor. He hammered his huge dick up inside of me like a trip-hammer. He was sore and he was hot. The combination was hard to beat.
"I tried not to let go, but I had to. I climaxed. He wouldn't ease up, though. He hammered with even more ferocity. He drove it up and in and I found myself creaming all over. He had me on the ropes but good and he knew it. It gave him the control to keep from coming himself. He had me go through nine full orgasms, until he, himself, couldn't stand it any longer. He shot a load into me that would have filled a teacup!
"Only then did he relax. I was all warm and mellow inside. I was thinking differently about Dad. All the time before this I had thought of him as a no-good guy. He had been mean and all for himself. Now, he and I were lying naked together. We had our arms around each other and we were both feeling good and fucked-out. 'You were so great, darling,' I whispered, 'that I'm going to let you keep half of your fifty bucks.' The money was still lying on the floor where it had fallen after he had tried to shove it up my pussy.
"No soap, baby." he whispered. 'You're the greatest. You keep the fifty. You deserve it. You deserve ten times that much. If I had that much, I'd give it to you. I mean that."
"I realized that he really did, too. My money-hungry dad! I never thought I'd live to see the day! T don't get it,' I whispered into his ear. I kissed his ear lobes and I could feel the blood rushing to them. 'What's come over you?'
"A very simple thing." He paused. He turned my face to his and he kissed me gently. No tongue down the throat. Just a really nice kiss. T know now that I've always been in love with you. You were always the most exciting piece of ass to me. Even when I was humping other babes, I always thought about you. I pretended like it was you I was screwing. But I know now it's more than just a piece of ass."
"I was a little jolted. So Dad felt that way too! Our screwing each other didn't seem too way out, but when honest-to-God love was hooked up with it, that meant something else! He asked me how I felt about him. My real feelings. I started to explain that I thought he was just about the greatest cockman I'd ever met but that was all. Then I realized, no....that wasn't all! I, too, was in love. Real love! We were both in one hell of a hang-up. T got to level with you,' I whispered. 'That's the way it is with me, too. I'd rather have you than any other man in the world! And I don't mean just for part-time fucking. I wish we were married.' We just lay there trying to understand what had come over both of us.
"We can't get spliced, baby," he said gently, 'you know that. Even if Mom and me got divorced."
"We talked it out pretty good. And we were both smart enough to realize it couldn't be. Even if we ran away. The law was quick to catch onto stuff like that. And if we ever got tripped up, it could mean a bad time for us both from then on. People like to talk about stuff like that. So we agreed we'd work in our own love-making whenever we wanted it. And he'd get it free. He wasn't a customer any more, but my lover!
"I kissed him a tender good-night after we went through another banging. Now that we knew how we felt about each other, we did it so naturally it seemed a shame not to just keep on forever. But even a stiff cock wears down and finally we both decided to call it a night.
"In the meantime, a girl has to eat so I continued my schedule of cash-and-carry fucking with other men.
"I found myself so much in demand, it was getting to be a drag. I knew I had to be more selective. So I picked the customers I knew had money. My price went up from fifty bucks a hump. I doubled it. I now asked, and got, a hundred bucks for any call. I cut down my sessions to four nights a week. That was four bills and it was more than enough to pay for my place, all the good clothes I wanted, and eating in the best restaurants. I also gave the family a hundred or so every few weeks to ease things for Mom. Funny thing, Dad never again asked me for money. I think if his life depended on a fast loan from me, he'd have died first. I mean it!
"As life went merrily on, I found that raising the ante didn't mean the customers would necessarily be any more normal. As a matter of act, the higher-priced ones seemed to be kookier than the others.
"It was about that time that I first met up with my deep-sea diver. That had to be the wackiest experience of all. I went up to a really plush layout. It was a deluxe apartment. Even the bathroom. And that's where all the action took place, believe it or not.
"The bathroom was as large as most living rooms. The floor was French tile with hand-painted scenes of court life in old France. At first glance, the pictures appeared to be the usual old-world art bits, until you began to analyze the paintings from different angles. Every single one had some unusual aspect to it. All you had to do was put your finger over certain parts of the picture and then the whole picture was different. They all came out with some sex symbolism. The guy holding his hand to his sword; shut off the lower part and the sword became a great big dick in his hand. The elegant lady with the fan to her lips; again, by blocking off the upper part of the fan, the bottom became a nice, long dick she was kissing! It was a real game. He showed me different tricks in the pictures and I almost forgot what I was there for. But he didn't.
"He led me to the big bathtub. That was something again. It was triangular in shape. A good ten feet each way. And deeper than most. It was sunk a foot below the floor level. He ran the water. It spurted out of the elegantly embossed faucets with great force. He also added a fragrant liquid to the water that transformed it into a pale green-blue shade. The water didn't foam or bubble. But it gave a slick, smooth look to the water. Not greasy or anything like that. Just slick. That's the best word. Slick.
"As the tub filled to a depth of three feet, we stripped down. He insisted on helping me undress. When the tub was full he led me to it and he held my hand as I daintily stepped into the water. He waited till I was comfortably seated. The water came up to my neck but it was very soothing. He got in and we faced one another. Then he had me stand up with him. Our bodies were lightly coated with the smooth liquid. As we rubbed together, it really felt sexy! Our lubricated bodies slid against each other like a couple of hot eels and the whole thing gave me a sensation like I'd never had before. The sounds were the greatest. Really slurpy.
"He had me kneel with my thighs spread wide apart. Then he tood a deep breath and went under. I could feel his mouth sucking tightly to my pussy and he began running his tongue in and out. I wondered how long he could stay down. He surprised me. He was there a full two minutes before he surfaced. But after another great gulp of air, he dove down and began eating me again. He made at least forty dives before he exhausted that part of the scene. Next, he knelt with his dick under the water and I had to dive down and below and suck it for him. I wasn't too keen on it because it would mess up my hair-do, but he said he would give me another twenty-five for having it re-done. At that price, I'd have dived into a tub of crap!
"He wouldn't let me build him up to a full cream job, though. He wanted to save that part of it for my ass. With his well-oiled dick, he went up my old dirt road like he was coming home for Christmas! Only by this time, with all the ass-fucking I'd been getting, my ass was more like a four-lane freeway than an old dirt road. We fooled around in the water till it cooled down to the point where we started shivering.
"We got out and rubbed each other down good with the biggest damn towels I ever saw in my life. After that we spread some kind of soothing lotion onto each other. We were the two cleanest fuckers in town! Funny thing, once we were out of the water, he seemed to lose all interest in me. We just sat around in our bathrobes and sipped hot coffee laced with brandy, and chatted. By the time he paid me off, with extra for my hair-do--it was really late. But I had to admit it was worth all the time and effort. He turned out to be a good, steady customer. At least once a month I'd be called in for a bit of deep-sea diving. And I learned to prepare myself. I bought a water-proof bathing cap to protect my hair, but to show you what a good sport he was, he still paid the extra twenty-five each time.
".All my customers weren't that clean. There was the other end of the stick, that I'll tell you about. I only went through it once, though. From that time on, I turned anybody down who wanted that kind of action. Like somebody once said about marriage: 'A little bit of it does you for a long time.' So does the 'outhouse bunch.' That's my own name for these guys. I should've suspected something funny with this particular guy right from the start, even though he was a good-looking guy and didn't look freakish. Still, there was something off-beat about him that should've told me this wasn't going to be a straight dull fuck.
"Right after I arrived, he took me into his dining room. I had already had my supper, but he insisted I have another meal. I argued that I was full up to my neck, but he kept tempting me by pointing out all the rich, tasty delicacies that were set out on the table. I finally got tired of arguing. If earning my hundred bucks meant filling up my old bread-basket to the bursting point, I'd do it.
"He kept loading me with food. I did my best, but finally I just had to give up. I signed and relaxed on the big divan. He brought out some exotic after-dinner liqueurs, and we both had a couple. Then we got down to the business I came for. We both stripped. For an older guy, he was built pretty good. I guess he didn't always eat like he'd made me eat, because his waist was hard and flat. He kept rubbing my full belly and kissing it. He paid more attention to that than he did to my tits or twat. That should have been a tip-off.
"It must have been around eleven o'clock when I first felt the old urge. 'Excuse me,' I said politely, 'but may I use your powder rom?'
"Why?" He suddenly got excited. 'What do you want to do?' I told him as nicely as I could, even though I was kind of annoyed, that I had to take a crap. I wondered what the hell business it was of his, and I soon found out. He got a candy store look in his eyes, and said, T want you to save it for me!' I was a little shocked. I tried to find out if he meant I wasn't to flush the old John or what. 'No, no,' He shook his head. 'I want you to do it on me!'
"I didn't like the idea of it. I'm not a prude, but this was too much. I'd heard about these clowns. Some of the other gals called them 'The diaper nuts.' I told him I didn't think I'd go for it. But he suddenly turned mean on me. He grabbed me by the arm and said if I didn't do what he wanted, he'd call the cops and turn me in as having hustled him. I could tell that he meant it, so there was nothing I could do. I said I'd go along with what he had in mind.
"That made him feel better right away. He got down on his back and had me squat right over his face. He held me by the hips and he was really steamed up. His dick was stiff and throbbing.
"Come on," he panted, 'do it! Do it on my face!'
"I tightened up like a drum. I was so nervous that I couldn't do what he wanted. But he wasn't about to let me off the hook. He held onto me so that I couldn't move from my squatting position over his face. He kept telling me to relax and let my load out. I was beginning to get cramps in the thighs and legs from the position I was in, but I knew I was going to be there till hell froze over if I didn't do what he wanted.
"I strained and at last it happened. It was a weird, dirty feeling, for me, but I did it. I crapped right on his face. That's when he went crazy. He tightened his grip on my hips till I thought he'd claw the skin off. And his cock was throbbing and swelling as he shot off. The whole thing made me a little sick and I couldn't wait to get away from him and hurry to the bathroom. I made up my mind then and there, that I wouldn't take any more of these real freakish customers, no matter how much dough was in it for me.
"You ask me if I'm happy hustling my body. I don't know-what to say to that. I'm still a teen-ager. I don't know one single teen-ager who's completely happy. Come to think of it, I don't know one single adult that's happy, either! So what's the answer. Does anybody have the answer?
"One thing's for sure. If I'm not completely happy, at least I'm being unhappy in comfort. I have my own apartment-I have nice clothes. So I'm not happy.