Out and about on a mild wet autumn day in the big smoke a punt was always going to be on the cards but it was a lean month, hyper inflation was biting and I couldnt justify the wheel barrow of worthless papiermarks now required to dip my toe into the purple pond of adultwork.
I knew that even if society collapsed by lunchtime I could get a third rate nosh and bosh at a walk up for a bartered pair of poorly made Hungarian shoes and a loaf of stale rye bread for the maid.
I was hoping to locate Brazilian Sara whose well done plastic tits never fail to impart some tropical charm into my otherwise grey and melancholic afternoons.
I held my breath and wrapped my cold knuckles against the filthy door of 28 Peter Streets lower floor. An aging, almost Soviet babushka-esque chrone ushered me in. A non-descript wench heaved her heavy battle weary frame into the room and presented herself to me. I felt a pang of guilt as soon as I saw her I knew I was going to walk as soon as I saw her. The flesh trade is brutal. I pulled myself together, smiled, uttered my excuses and left. Fuck.
Up the second set of dank stairs to repeat the same experience - bar one crucial detail - hardcore porn was playing on a flat screen TV. A svelte, sexy brunette was giving felatio to a well endowed hunk. It was intimate, almost poetic but unfortunately nothing like the perfunctory, vulgar, mechanical sex I was about to have. More importantly the small detail of the skin flick playing hinted that I might have walked into a trap - it was a sign that I was about to be ambushed by crazy Angela.
Like a trapdoor spider she threw open the door and lurched towards me, planting a smacker directly on my dry chapped lips.
My two previous experiences with her had been tumultuous. But today she seemed in a good mood. Almost agreeable. Her angelic face and devilish body had me already semi hard and I bargained that i could be in for one of her legendary filthy punts.
I parted with my cheap shoes (£50) and bread for the babushka (£2) for nosh, bosh and smooch. She saw a few grubby potatoes and a wilted cabbage in my bag and made her play for it “blowjob without condom extra £20 baby, its very gooood”. I was completely hard by now and cracked - she classily stuffed the £20 into her bra strap where it would stay until I left.
We kissed and I liberated her tits while I thought of all the dirty reviews I have read about her and how many degenerates she had pleasured over the decades. It was doing it for me. I glanced over and the stud on the TV had cum on the brunettes face. This was going to be debased.
We got onto the bed, I laid back and closed my eyes to get the maximum sensation from my cock entering her warm wet gob. Fuck it was good she tickled my balls and went to work. She wanked me and talked dirty to me then lowered herself onto my face saying “kiss pooosey”. I buried my face into her desicrated twat and it was surprisingly fresh and tasty. I was getting very turned on. She shifted her hips forward and said ”now lick ass ok baby” i started lashing at her back door and she moaned ”you fuck me ass for twenty pounds? ” I declined but flipped her off me to enjoy her in missionary.
She lay there spread wide - Angelic face, licking her lips, fake tits out, bald pink pussy, a new porn movie was playing. I entered her and started heaving away as furiously as my old, fatigued body would allow. I built up a rhythm and squirted into the sack.
She cleaned me up as I gasped for the unmistakable brothel air - warm, sweaty, stale yet fragrant and purfumed. I got up, she thanked me for my donation to her perpetual revolution as I washed my rapidly deflating cock in the grimy sink.
Fuck me what a filthy, depraved and satisfying bunk up for £72!
