A Few More Years...

Yeah, I walk the streets for a livin’ and you know, a lot of people hang shit on me ‘cause they think it’s all wrong and that I’m fucked in the head for selling my body and shit, but stuff it. They’ve got their lives to live ‘an I got mine and most of the time it aint that bad. I mean, I got my regular girls out here with me every night and we look out for each other. The cops come ‘round every couple nights to see how we’re doing and sometimes they’ll ask for a hand job or somethin’, you know a freebie. But there’s all these newbies out here that’re scared to walk up to the cops at all and they see the car coming and go ducking into a back street all shitting themselves. But I been out here for eight years now and I’m not scared of ‘em. They come up and say, ‘Hey Maime. How’s your night? Any problems?’ And I tell ‘em no I’ve got my ass covered. How’s the wife? Still kickin’ your ass? And they tell me if only their wives sucked dick as good as me, while the young greenies hide in the ally with their new stockings and made-up faces.
I don’t do all that make-up shit. Sure I’ll dress nice with my tits all pushed up because I know guys are suckers for a nice squished-up set. But overall I know if a guy’s out looking for a fuck or a hummer he’ll take any set of tits or lips he can find. It’s a fact of nature. Guys are fucking dogs and they’ll take what they can get. The fucking saps don’t even realize I put Altoids in my mouth before sucking their cocks so they’ll come quicker and I can collect my ten bucks and get back on the streets. I’m not ashamed of myself ‘cause I know it’s all just a job. A good paying job too, and it buys my booze and sometimes a bit of speed. But I’m not like I used to be, doing smack and that shit, ‘cause that’s all bullocks for the weak. I used to be weak for it and always after a trick go looking for a hit, but I’m older now, forty-four, and I’m a smart bitch.
That’s one thing I won’t let them call me is bitch, though. I can call myself that just as a woman calling another woman by saying, ‘Hey bitch how’s trix?’ But any man get rough and try to call me a bitch when he’s fucking me and I stop right there and throw his money back in his face until he ‘pologizes ‘cause no man can quit once he’s inside me. They all have to get off. Like I said, it’s the nature of those dogs. They cling on just like two mutts fucking and won’t break free until they spit their nut, the fucking craving beasts. Women are different. The few I’ve had have been so sweet and tender. They’ll rub my clit nice and slow and lick my tits with soft tongues like they’re trying to please me instead of themselves. Not like those fucking smarmy workers in their coveralls just zipped down below their pathetic, twisted little cocks just in it for themselves. Yeah, the women are different and actually pay me more than I ask then kiss me on the belly when they’re done and say good bye. That makes me feel special like, you know, like I’m wanted as a human being not just a warm cunt to be probed and tossed away. I killed a guy once.
He just kept slapping me around and fucking way too violently and when the sorry bastard couldn’t come he just pushed me onto the floor like it was my fault. I took the straight-edge razor from the inside of my boot and slit that fucker’s throat. He dropped like a ton of shit and I took all the fat fuck’s money and the one credit card he had and bought myself some new gear. Never had one regret doing it neither ‘cause no one treats me like that or calls me bitch. I saw it in the paper too and I never told no one that it was me. Cops came ‘round asking all sorts of questions too. Gus asked me if I saw anything. When I said no he believed me ‘cause Gus wouldn’t want to see my fine pussy going off to jail anyway. That would mean he’d have to fuck his skaggy wife and be all miserable again. So he just said, “OK Maime, that’s good enough for me,” and drove off waving.
Another cheeky cunt thought it’d be funny to stick a whiskey bottle up my cunt but I grabbed that fucking bottle and bashed in his face. Left the joint with his wallet too. The lousy drunk only had twelve-dollars anyway. Thought he’d pull a runner on me, so I crouched over ‘em and took a shit in his mouth before I left. Money up front from that night on. You know, I may sound hard or cruel but I’m really just a woman out making a living and some of the people I come across just rub me the wrong way. They deserve everything they get. But you know, you can ask Gus and the rest of the girls about me and they all know I’m a top fucking lass. It’s just I don’t take no shit, right?
Someday I’ll stop doin’ it and get outta here. I’m gonna’ save and go to Paris or Rome where the women are superior and I’ll be turning tricks in a nice respectable brothel with proper rooms and clean sheets. The men will be clean and dressed in suits and will choose me from a plush cocktail lounge and buy me drinks first, like a proper date. I’ll be looked after, taken care of. I’ll wear nice clothes and speak French or Roman and have myself a man of my own instead of other women’s. I’ll go to museums, look at beautiful pictures and ride around in those carts pulled by horses and eat fresh bread and good wine at sidewalk cafes. And I’ll smoke fancy cigarettes from a long cigarette holder, blowing smoke rings into each other. I’m gonna’ fucking do it too. Just need to pull tricks out here on the streets a few more years. Yeah. Just a few more.
There’s another veteran like me out here, her name’s Jugs. We call her that because her fucking tits are so huge and the shirts she wears don’t hide ‘em neither. She displays those big ole balloons like they’re the pick of the litter. But, really they just look like some flesh avalanche. A big shelf veering down to her toes. But Jugs manages to get her steady Johns and they always pay her a bit extra to get their dicks in between her great mountains of tit. She’s told me stories about two guys at once wanting to come from opposite ends fucking her tits while they knock heads and she told them they wanted to knock little knobs they go do it on their own time, the little faggots shouldn’t waste her time, she said. If she’s gonna’ get some, she may as well enjoy herself a little too. Not just be some flesh puppet.
That’s one thing Jugs always says is that she started doing this for the sex first, then the money. She says she can’t get enough the hard dick and to get paid is just the icing on the knob. So if two fags wanna’ use something as a toy while they get off on each other they should go buy a plastic doll or find a sheep on the farm, cause Jugs needs all she can get.
Me and Jugs started out here right around the same time. We were both new and we made the same mistakes and tried to help each other out when the old haggies would give us a ride. All those old bitches are dead now and who’s runnin’ the show? Me and Jugs. We have an unspoken respect for each other which is why we never have to say anything when some greenie is asking questions. We just give a look this way or that depending on how we feel for the lass. If we want to help her out there’s a look in Jug’s eyes that says feed the little sap a bone and I’ll take her under my wing for a few nights, show her what’s what. You know, shit like always getting the money up front and how to put a condom on some slob refusing to use one. The gall of some of these sweaty punters to try and stick some pudgy Vienna sausage in me with no condom then wanting to come on my face—they always ask if they can come on my face and that’s when I tell ‘em to go home and come on the wife’s face, see how she like it. They think ‘cause I’m on the street I’m some piece of garbage to toss all their fluids on for kicks like I’m not even a human being but some blow-up doll. Really they’re the sad ones, driving around late at night, all alone, scanning the street for a pussy they have to pay for.
It’s the young one’s I can’t understand. They come ‘round in their nice new cars and their hair all moussed up and are all very polite, almost shy to ask for what they want. And I don’t understand why they pay for it when it seems like any young girl might have a go at it for free. But at least the youngies are clean and respectable. They treat me like a queen, letting me do all the work, organize my price and sometimes I’ll let the little bucks get a bit extra time for no charge ‘cause it makes me feel young again to have their young unused bodies all over me like a baby suckling on my tits for milk.
See, I never had any kids of my own. Doctors say I can’t because of the hole in my uterus, so the kids who come ‘round make me feel like a mother teaching her boy how to do things the right way, to slow down, show some respect and compassion for a woman, treat her like a porcelain doll. They’re all very responsive too. They let me put it in and place their hands in all the right spots. I’m a self-taught professor of my field and these are the benefits I reap, aside from some top roots.
Jugs has no patience for the young ones, and she’ll usually shoot me a glance when one pulls up so I’ll come and take over. The boys don’t give a flyin’ fuck one way or another ‘cause it’s all pink on the inside to them and they’re happy just to be able to buy it. It’s the older slobs who are always passing me by to look for the young lassies. They want what they can never get in real life, the perfect little Barbie with the tight little hole to stick it in and make them feel like they have something substantial below the belt.
Once Gus passed me up for some little greenies and I didn’t give it to him for two months after that. He felt guilty and even bought me a carton of cigarettes to make up for it and I told him to go waste his money on the little shaven pussy. That’s right, shaven. These new bitches out here shave all the hair off their cunts, thinks it makes them cleaner and sexier.
Some of them don’t shave it all off, they just leave a thin strip of hair over the top. Jugs and me laugh at that nuvo shit ‘cause we’re all naturale and we know aint nothin’ more sexy to a man than to get his gear all up into a nice big, hairy bush. It’s the excitement of not knowin’ exactly what’s under there and when they search around with their dicks I know my big bush tickles their knob in search of the big juicy hole. But with that shaven thing all they have to do is look down and see the little piggy bank and plunge right into the carnivorous clam. Carnivorous is something that eats meat, like dinosaurs. I know that. And the clam is a meat eater. That’s why I say that. But the big mysterious black bush is what men want. The greenies don’t understand this. They think they’re smart shaving it or trimming it to make it look like some minx or something.
To tell the truth I don’t give a rat’s ass about these bitches or about much else. We all got things to do in this world. I was put here to fuck and fuck well. It’s my living. It’s just what I do. So fuck you or anyone else who wants to look down on me. Just give me a fucking durry and leave the money on the table.

A Few More Years...

Tim McDonald

Melbourne, Australia

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Artist's Description

Soliloquy of a slut.

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