Chapter 9

The closest American counterpart to the Japanese geisha is the taxi dancer, the dime-a-dance girls who sell their services for the length of a song. On Collins Avenue in Miami Beach there are several of them located at the seedy end of that magnificent thoroughfare which elsewhere sports the most lavish hotels known in the Western hemisphere. The girls who work there are not decrepit individuals down on their luck; rather they are often fast young models often on their way up. Some work at taxi dancing for the experience, many work for the easy hours and fair pay, and most perhaps work for the chance to meet wealthy men who, vacationing with their wives at the big hotels, sometimes take a night off to slum awhile.

The girls, as a rule, do not sell themselves. That is, if they go to bed with a man, it is not necessarily for money. Usually they want only the contacts.

They know that most of their clientele is down from Manhattan for a vacation, and they try to please somebody who might be in show business or the advertising world. That is what their life is all about.

Marty, a very pretty young redhead with a striking figure, described an experience from that life in the following account:

Actually, I want to make clear to you, that the places where we work are not necessarily billed as taxi halls. In other words, they could just as well be the little fleatrap bars, and a lot of us could probably pass for bar girls. But we're not bar girls in the usual sense; I'm talking about B girls. We're legitimate all the way, and most of us are known by word-of-mouth, which makes "legitimate" sound ironic, doesn't it? But what I mean is this: we're available in the bars if a guy asks us for a dance, and the price usually is a buck a dance, which is a long way from the old dime-a-dance deal that everybody still calls us by, huh?

Anyway, the little fleatrap where I work could be any of a hundred Beach bars, the tropical effect, potted palms all over the place, indirect orange and red and blue lighting, some beach scenes painted on the walls, a long bar with a mirror loaded with bottles and polished glasses, heavy imitation leather booths, and pretty girls in short skirts serving the table. A couple of us sit in far corners and sip drinks, and we're available if a guy comes our way with fat dollars.

Not to fuck, you understand. Nothing like that.

I mean, after all, we're decent girls to begin with. And if we're going to sleep with a guy, it's usually because we want to sleep with him, if you know what I mean. No prostitution is involved.

But hell, let's face it. Prostitution is always involved in any relationship between a man and a woman, if the woman is dependent on the man. And how many times is a woman not dependent on a man? Even when a gal is lucky and runs into an alimony situation and gets herself out lucky, she's still been a whore probably, fucking the guy for years till she built up enough time for the alimony. It's that way.

So it influences every woman's thoughts, you understand, if she's on the make. The only girl who can afford to be snotty is the one who doesn't need the guy who's trying to make it with her. So if you're in the market like we are, looking for contacts all the time, you're real sweet every time a guy comes to your booth and starts a conversation with you.

That is, you're sweet unless he looks like an absolute ass, and even then you've got to be careful. Which brings me to this guy that I'm going to call Tex because, like all the other guys called Tex, he comes from Texas. Dallas, to be exact. Big D. Dallas and Ft. Worth and that big pocket of money around there.

Okay. So I'm sitting there one day, sipping a creme de menthe, when this guy that looks like a total ass and also looks blotto comes in my direction from the pisser and he says to me, "You're a good-looking doll. What's your name?" And he leans, cruder than hell, on my table and stares at me and blows alcohol on me in waves; if I lit a match to it, we'd've had a napalm blow-up.

But I said, "Marty? What's yours?"

And he said, "MARTY? I'll be damned. I'm Marty, too." And like that admits him to the church, he slides in beside me, gives me his leg along mine and even grabs my knee for a quick feel.

"like, where have you been so long?" I told him and brushed his hand away.

But he was the persistent kind and came right back next time on my twat. "like, hey," I said, "get the hell out of here, will you?" and I lifted his hand and put it on his own lap.

But I shouldn't have done that, because that's exactly when he plunked my hand under his own smack on his hard fly. And I do mean hard. like, he had a rock cock in there waiting to plunge. And if it had been fire, I would have scorched my hand.

He laughed when I jerked away from him fast, and he said, "Surprise, baby. What more do you want?"

"I work here," I said, "in case you don't know it." And when he gave me the eye, I said, "You hear that music?" The jukebox was blaring about my sunshine gal. "I sell you three minutes on that empty floor for one hundred pennies. Can you stand the gaff?"

He fidgeted. "A buck for three minutes?" he said. "like suppose a guy's broke?"

"Good-bye, Mr. Chips." I waved my hand at him.

"Look, honey," he said. "I'm just in from Texas, and I ain't got a cent to my name, and ... well. . . I mean, could you..." And he left it there.

What a ass. I should inherit all the bums of the universe. Me, I'm trying to land a contact in Manhattan and get myself the hell out of the Beach, and I end up getting tapped for a hand-out by a bummer Texas ranger. "Uh-uh," I said, and I gave him another wave of the hand to get him the hell out of there.

He left. I was surprised. I thought I was going to have to call Joe, my faithful bartender whom I pay ten percent of all I make just to sit in that booth. But Tex left, and he told me I'd be sorry. I told him I hoped I wouldn't be. And we parted as good enemies.

Then a couple of New York types came in, and they eased my way and took me on the floor for a string of dances that made me twenty bucks in sixty minutes before they settled down to some long talk about how they were going to make me a star overnight on Broadway. Meanwhile Tex was drinking sullenly at the bar and eyeing me, and I wondered where the hell he suddenly got enough money for booze.

Anyway, to make a long story short, nothing came of the Manhattan types, but plenty came of Tex. And this is what came.

I had been there all afternoon and it was early evening and still light in the middle of summer when I went home. With two other girls, Patty and Diane, I shared an expensive beachfront pad that was breaking our cunt hairs to keep up; but when fame is just around the corner, who the hell gives a damn. You know; that sort of thing. Anyway, on that particular night, nobody else was there because Patty and Diane were working two other places at the time. So I had the pad to myself and felt groovy and stripped right away and got into a sexy pink bikini that goes well with my hair and boobs and ass and belly and all the other things a good bikini is supposed to go well with.

And I'm padding around my pad barefoot in the park, not giving a shit, when all of a sudden I get the damndest feeling that somebody is watching me. I look around me and that's when I see, bigger than life, ugly sloppy Tex standing outside the sliding screen doors to the kitchen and he's saying, "Mind if I step in?"

He doesn't wait for an answer though and he's already inside before I can say, "How the hell'd you get here?" And when he says he followed me, I say, "Do you make it a habit to follow girls?"

He nods his head, and he says, "Sure, I do. I follow them all the time. I've been following them all my life. Every time I see a pretty girl, I follow her and find out where she lives. You'd be surprised what it does for morale."

"Hers or yours?" And I was ready to lift a skillet and hit him with it.

"Both. It starts out being a boost for my morale as I watch a nice pair of hips in action all the way home. Sometimes if I follow one like you that's wearing a bikini, I actually drool all the way to her pad. Of course, you weren't wearing a bikini till now, but I'm ready to drool anyway. And I'll drool even more in the minute I get it off you."

That's when I picked up the skillet. It's a Teflon thing, and really very pretty. I hated like hell to hit him with it. I like Teflon a lot.

But I didn't get a chance to hit him. That sonofabitch overpowered me before I even had the skillet two inches off the range. I didn't realize he was so quick. He was like a tiger. And he knocked that skillet away, grabbed my wrists, clapped my mouth, flipped me somehow and dropped me to the kitchen floor and was on top of me before I knew it. "Baby," he said, "like I've raped more broads than you've fucked guys. So don't pull that shit on me. I'm too fast for you."

And before I knew it, he had off my drawers and was ripping away my bikini top. Those two strips of pink just fell away like so much excess baggage. Here in one minute, gone in the next, those two pretty pink little strips of cloth just disappeared into his fat holding hand. And in the minute, my big red pussy and lovely full tits were bare. They just popped out, large as life.

He drooled. He rolled off me and looked at my pussy and looked at my tits, and he drooled. "like wow," he said. "Did anybody tell you, you were built." He licked his lips. "You've got absolutely the most beautiful pair of tits I ever hope to see. And that big red fiery bush of yours is too perfect for comment." He licked his lips again.

Then he fell to nuzzling my titties. And man, could he nuzzle. Those big lovely orbs seemed created just for his loving lips and tongue. All of a sudden, their big pink wide haloes just were made to fit his taking mouth. And he took them, all right. You never saw anything like it. He took them perfectly. He went up and down and all around them, loving every millimeter of them, giving them his tongue and lips until my nipples were so damned big and hard that I actually wanted to scream from the joy he was putting through me.

And every time he sucked lovingly on those nipples, drawing one or the other back and forth with his lips and tongue, rolling each of those long thick bullets around and back and forth in his hot tight mouth, my cunt spasmed. It reacted to every lick on my nipples, and it contracted and expanded and delivered a vanfull of juices to lubricate me so that I could take a couple of armies. Did I ever want to fuck. I hope to tell you I did. I wanted to fuck more than anything else in the whole world.

And it wasn't long before I was moaning and groaning under him, and I was begging him to stick his big rod in me. "Stick it to me, sweetheart," I was whispering, frantically clutching him, trying to bring him into me. "Stick you big ripe pork into my aching hole. Please stick it to me."

I had hold of his beautiful long wide cock. I had zipped down his fly and yanked out his rod and I held it in my hand, trying desperately to get it into my fevering cunt. I wanted that pork badly, oh so very badly.

And he laughed. "Not yet, lover," he said. "I've got other things to do. When I rape a broad, I like to give them the full treatment. So I'm not done yet." And that's when he turned so that he could mouth my muff. He went for a dive and started hunting pearls. I thought I'd go through the ceiling; in all my life, I never knew anything could be so good. His lips and tongue on my cunt were unbelievably ecstatic. He worked my hot and wet vag with an artistry that makes the greatest connoisseurs of cunt look pale by comparison. He kissed and loved my pink slit with a beautiful art, exquisite touch, precious care. I loved him and loved him immensely.

To show my love, I grabbed his cock and began nibbling it. I couldn't help myself. I'm not a natural-born cocksucker, but what that guy did to me was too much and I couldn't refuse his great dick. Oh, he didn't even try to insert it in me; I just grabbed it for myself. I took that powerful long monster and I held it with both hands lovingly, and I wrapped a tongue around it and nibbled it with tight lips. And soon I wanted to stuff it down my throat, take everything into my guts. I wanted that dick so much that I thought I would die from hunger for it.

Then he pulled away from me. "Okay, baby," he said now, going onto his back, spreading his legs and curling his hands behind his head, looking at me on a slant, and grinning at me. "Now comes the best part. I ask all the broads I rape to beg me for it. So start begging. Onto your knees, lover, and start begging me for it." And he chuckled to himself.

I didn't hesitate for a minute. I flipped off my back and went onto my knees and clasped my hands together and begged him for it. "I want your great dick up my hole," I whispered. "May I have it in my snatch? Please. Please let me feel your great rod in my cunny. I want it badly. You'll never know how badly I want it." And I clasped my hands together tightly and shook them at him urgently in my wild fever to feel that powerful dick in my vag.

He chuckled to himself. "That's the way I like to hear it," he told me. "I always follow broads, and I always make them end up begging for it. I follow broads in bikinis, for example, home all the time; fifteen-year-old, sixteen-year-olds, seventeen-year-olds; it doesn't matter. I follow any broad anywhere whenever I see her. And not one of those bitches has called 'Rape' on me yet. It always starts out being a rape; but before it's done, everyone of them does exactly what you're doing. Everyone of them ends up begging me for it." And he laughed loudly, and folded his hands oppositely behind his head, and licked his lips while he watched me beg for his gigantic dick.

And I could understand why a girl would beg for that monstrous cock. I could understand why any girl would end up forgetting about being raped and just start wanting that precious prick. After all, every girl secretly wants to be fucked more than anything else in the world. And although she may make a beef about being followed by strangers, the truth is she wants it up the vag in the worst possible way. And she's damned glad when she gets it there. She never can deny that her sole ambition in life is to be fucked; and when a guy comes along who can do just that for her, she wants it in the worst way.

Besides, girls unconsciously and yet with a secret desire that they might not even know about, lure guys to follow them. They want cock so badly that they dress in skimpy little bikinis, for instance, and wander up and down the streets, thinking or pretending they're just going to the store to get a fudgsicle or something; when in reality they're unconsciously hoping they'll attract a guy to follow them and maybe get him to rape them. It happens all the time. Broads want to be fucked.

So I was glad he followed me home. I wanted nothing better than to be laid. I wanted that stiff long weapon up my hole as far as it could travel, and there I was begging him for it, making it damned clear that I wanted nothing better. And I even went with my nose to the floor when he told me to crawl for it. I went with my lips and nose and chin to the floor to prove to him how abject a servant I would be for his great cock. And I pleaded over and over again how much I wanted that tall cock up my vag.

Finally he said, "Fine. I'll give it to you. I'll fuck you in grand style. I'll give you what you want. But stand up. I feel like taking you in a different way. Stand up and bend down and hold onto your ankles. I want to shove it up your tail dog-track awhile. And then we'll go for something else."

I would take it anyway he wanted to give it to me. If he wanted to spear my vault from the rear, fine with me. I only knew that I wanted that perfect meat in my cunny. So I stood and bent over the kitchen table and rested my arms to the table and then rested my head to my folded arms. He came behind me. I spread my legs. He stepped between my legs. He pressed his belly against my can and I could feel him aiming his prick on a run between my legs, nestling his big bird in my red nest.

Then he stroked my vag lips awhile with his rod, and he reached around me and plucked my nipples. "You're driving me insane," I cried. "Oh, lover, stick it up me now. Now, lover; stick it up me now." And I wriggled my ass at his belly, trying to insert my vag over his magnificent cock.

He laughed. "Let me play this monster at your cunt lips awhile," he whispered. "I want to have you so juiced that you'll think you're the Mississippi in floodtime."

"I do already," I said. "I'm the Mississippi, the Missouri, the Ohio, the Wabash, the Mononahela, the Thames, the Tiber, and the Nile, all in one. I'm the Dnieper, the Don and the fjords of Scandinavia. Oh, lover, I'm all the rivers and seas and bays and oceans of the world. I'm wet in every possible way, lover. I'm wet, wet, wet, tremendously wet. I'm every bit of moisture known in the history of mankind."

He laughed. "That's the way I like to hear 'em tell me," he said, laughing. "Okay, maybe I'll give you an inch or two. Maybe." And he chuckled to himself.

I knew I would be lucky and grateful and glad to get anything he offered to me. I knew I would appreciate anything he might give me of that good cock. I knew I would be eternally happy for his smallest offering up my torrid hole.

But when suddenly in a grand driving rush, he leapt high into my hole with his full force, I screamed from the terror. He smashed my cunt with the ferocity of the demand. He leapt into my vault with apoplectic embrace. He seared my hole with a driving cock. And I almost fainted. Never in my life had I felt so tremendous a dick inside me. It split me in two parts and left me like so much butchered meat, ready for the hooks. It was the greatest single lunge I had ever known.

But I reacted pleasurably to it immediately. Even while I screamed, I was happier than all get-out. I was the happiest girl in town. And I started yelling, "Oh send it to me, Tex. Send it to me again and again. I love it. I can't get enough of it. Send it to me all the way up my hot vag. Give me everything you can give me, lover. Never stop. Just keep giving it to me all the way."

He laughed. "You're a glutton for punishment, aren't you?" And he speared me again with his tall cock.

"Oh, you bet," I cried. "I want nothing better. In all my life, this is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me." And I wriggled my can at his gut, trying to grab even more of that prime cock than he already had given me.

"Tell me you're glad I followed you home," he said hotly. "Tell me you're glad I raped you."

"I'm glad," I cried joyously. "Oh I'm more than glad you followed me home, sweetheart. I think every girl should be followed home the way I was followed home. If more men followed more young girls home the way you followed me home, America would be a happier place for the sexes. That's the trouble with the country," I said. "Not enough men follow girls home. They should follow them more often. It should be a regular thing. I'm in favor of it happening all the time." And I kept pounding his gut with my ass the whole time I raved.

He laughed. "You're a wild bitch," he said, chuckling. "But they all turn out the same way. If it was up to their moms, for instance, and this is especially true with the younger ones, guys like me would be sent to the pen all the time. But the broads themselves know exactly what's good for them, and that's why sooner or later, if it's necessary, they make arrangements so that Mom doesn't see them when they're taking it from me. And besides, I often end up fucking their old ladies too. I end up fucking their old ladies and their girlfriends and their sisters and their aunts and nieces. I end up fucking every broad connected with the broad I followed home to rape."

"Oh you could fuck my entire female lineage," I exclaimed. "You could fuck every girl in my family straight down from the Pilgrims. I don't give a shit how many you fuck, lover. I just know that you're the greatest thing that ever happened to me." And I whirled my can at his great cock.

Then he lifted me off that table. Don't ask me how he did it, but he picked me up and walked me around with my cunt on his cock. He carried me in front of him, and I had my legs up in a crazy position, and all the time, my cunt was deep on his cock. It was a wild way to go, and I loved every minute of it. And all the while, he played with my boobies at the same time. I was going mad from the joy of it all.

That wasn't enough. He sat on the kitchen chair, and I went down solidly on his great yang. I started wriggling in all directions, feeling that proud big bird up my tail. I maneuvered left and right and all around from the wonderful feeling it gave me. And he humped my cunny at the same time. It was the wildest.

That still wasn't enough. He pulled me off his cock and he went onto the floor, and he told me to straddle him and go onto his cock that way. I did, and it gave me more freedom of movement than ever, and I wriggled left and right and went crazy from the terrific feeling it gave my hole. I was flowing and flowing, and I couldn't stop fucking or flowing even if I tried. "Oh Tex, lover," I cried, "you're the greatest thing that ever happened to me."

"It's all how a guy handles himself," he said. j "You'e got to handle yourself right, and cunt is always there." He chuckled as he lay back and let me do all the work.

I knew he was right. I knew that every man should consider following broads home. I knew that was what women really wanted more than anything else. I knew that though a woman might pretend not to be interested, she was, in her secret heart, more than interested. After all, women get

I so few chances to meet men, and what better way is there to meet them than to be followed home. Besides, it gives them a chance to get free cock right away too, because few women ever get enough cock. Plenty of times they'll see a guy they want to fuck, but they don't get the chance, because a woman isn't supposed to do anything about it. So the best thing that can happen to her is to have a guy follow her home and attempt to rape her. She'll do the rest, don't worry.

Then somehow he managed to raise himself up, and he had me still on his cock, and I wrapped my legs around him and I started hugging him for dear life, and he was walking all around the pad with me humping crazily on his big prick. It was the wildest, and I loved the way he nipped my nipples at the same time I jumped and humped wildly on his powerful rod. It was the greatest thing in the world.

Finally he took me to my bedroom and dropped me to my bed, and went on top of me and started giving me the jazzing of my life. He went onto his knees, my legs still wrapped around him, and he started fucking me on a straight line, mainlining my hole, giving me the beeline treatment. He was in and out beautifully with long sure hard strokes. I gasped. I cried my joy. I yelled and frantically screamed my pleasure. Never in my life had I been so taken, so wonderfully fucked. It was the most precious and lovely feeling I knew I ever would know.

And he dicked me with a grandeur that belonged to the gods. He sent his powering dick in and out of me with a splendor that never has been matched in all history. He twisted and turned that powerful cock like a thing from the greatest and most wonderful time in the history of mankind. He went deeply inside me and pulled all the way out, back and forth, magnificently up and down my aching torrid steaming wet cunt. He gave it to me beautifully.

"Oh, lover," I cried, "I'm going off the cliff. I'm heading for the top of the mountain and going off the cliff. Lover, I never knew anything so grand in my life. Lover Tex, I'm coming. I'm coming. I'm coming all the way."

And I started humping his cock like crazy. If I ever humped a dick madly in my life before, I humped his cock more madly, more insanely, more wildly than I ever hope to hump another dick so long as I live. I pounded his dick with the greatest intensity in the world. I smashed his cock with a brutality I know never will be matched again. I went at him in a wild hot violent fury.

He laughed. "You're bringing me off just with your action," he said, stopping his cock when it was deep in my hole. "You're taking my rocks off, just from your work." And he settled into me, his cock's head against the roof of my cunt, and let me handle the movement.

And handle it I did. I went up and down, left and right, back and forth, on and off with him with the most maddeningly powerful drives I've ever known in my life. I clasped his ass cheeks and held on terrorously and gave him all of myself over and over again. I climbed to the stars on his great and wonderful, glorious and grand, huge and magnificent, tall, tall, tall dick.

Then I was at the moon, and rocketed away. I blew out my head. I let everything in me loose in one wild wonderful awe-inspiring scream. I struck terror into all of Miami Beach, I'm sure, with the most blood-curdling great scream of which I ever have been capable. Oh how I yodeled. You'll never know how I yelled. I simply screamed to eternity.

And it was out of me. Then I could rock away the rest of my come, and it was grand. But at the same time, I drew off his own heat, and he exploded madly in my hole. High and deep into me, he broke away his flood, and I yelled again and again as I felt the cream smash me, as I felt everything hit me in a whirling dash of strange wild good great white come. He blasted me with his tremendous lava, and I felt it spread through all of me. It was grand.

So together we spent ourselves one against the other in those playing-away minutes. We fucked ourselves out, and let everything that ever had held us disappear into the void of eternity. We gave up ourselves completely. We left nothing in us remaining. We just humped away all our passion, all our lust, all our craving.

And when we were done, we collapsed to each other, and sucked breath again, and laughed wildly, headily, from the good feeling of the greatest fuck that mankind ever has known. We laughed and kissed and shoved our tired bodies together, just laughed and loved and were so damned happy.

Well, what else can I say? You asked about things like sex and servants. You want to know my experiences. I tell you that one. And why do I tell you that, Well, maybe I want you to know that there really might be some good in the whole idea of exploitation. I know it sounds odd, sure. But think of it this way. Let me go over the picture again with you and do a little recapitulation for your benefit.

I'm just a doll who serves guys, right? I work for a buck a dance and try to make contacts. Okay, along comes a total zero, or so I think, and I pass him off and want to forget about the whole thing. But what happens? He's the persistent kind and he follows me home. Okay, so how many gals don't get followed home at sometime or other by the smart boys? Plenty, I tell you. But how many guys make the pitch? Not too many. Why? Because we're to blame, ourselves. We're always crying "Rape" and scaring guys away that could do us plenty of good. I don't blame them for going elsewhere. They don't need us. Sooner or later, a smart gal exists somewhere who more than wants their good meat. And they stick it where it does the most good.

But here's a guy who wants it everywhere, and he personally doesn't give a shit whether we cry "Rape" or not. He knows what he's after, and he takes it at any age if it's available; and he knows it's all more than available. So what happens? I get fucked, and get the greatest fuck in my life.

What else, In this case, it just happens that he's a Texas millionaire, that's all, with a wealth in oil-wells. And he helps me out on my career. Well, I don't need help when I have a cock like that, and I frankly told him as much. He said, "Baby, take it and run. I won't be laying you forever. I've got too much interest in other snatch, snatch wherever I see it. So take it and run."

I cry when he tells me that, because I'd give up a million of my own if I had it just to keep his dick high in my hole. But I know he's right; so I grab what I can and it launches me in joytown as the saying might be. I've profited from a helluva happy following-home.

Okay, so what's it all about again? Just this: I was a servant, and I sure as hell was exploited. I was given the works in exploitation. But was it bad? Hell no. It was the greatest thing in the world. I can't say it's the same for every other servant girl wherever she is. Hell, I wouldn't say that at all. But I just know that for me it was terrific.

Need more be said?