How I Became A Street Walking Slut

I stood in the cold, barely lit street, feeling the freezing air on my erect nipples. I hate what I have to wear for this; my heels kill my feet, especially with all the walking, the red stockings I’ve been advised to wear by my “manager’’, are about as thick as a piece of paper, the skirt that meets them barely covers my thighs, “for easy access”, again a quote from my manager Todd, my thin jacket and shirt don’t even attempt to hide my chest. As I hated myself more and more for my clothing a car slowed from afar. “Please don’t stop, please.” The car slowed down and moved toward me as my words floated, unheard by the driver as they left us.

“How much?”

He startled me, they always seem to.

“Um…it’s 50 for a blowjob,’’ I spoke slowly, hopefully not being too obvious that I was seeing if he was a “work hazard”. “but I’m doing anal for 400 now.”

“That’s way too much.”

“Not for an asshole like mine, ha”

“Fine, where?”

I was sure with my lack of sternness he would haggle me down.

“Over there.” I pointed at the alley where most girls brought their Johns.

I watched him pull in as I walked over mentally preparing myself for my first anal fucking by a John. He got out as I approached, the light was decent enough to make out his features he had a shaved head, he was tall, as I got closer I notice he looked pretty good.

I stood in front of him, I saw his eyes going up and down, and he didn’t look upset with my appearance. He lowered his pants to the ground and revealed his cock, it was half hard already, and it looked a bit bigger than the ones I’d been blowing in my previous weeks.

“Just my luck I get a big boy for my first John.” I grasped it, the warmth heating my chilled hand.

“I’ll be gentle’’ He wouldn't be.

I stared at his cock head as I pumped away at it feeling it grow in my hand, I started to let myself lapse into the weeks before me.