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Walk/Don't Walk

"Conversation with a street walker"
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Published 8 years ago
------------------------------------- This work within its first few lines contains language or other material which some readers may find offensive. In consideration, Stories Space has hidden the preview of this selection. By choosing to view the piece in its entirety, you agree that you are 18 or older and do not object to such content. -------------------------------------

“My feet are fucking KILLING me. I've been standing here at the corner of - ah Hell I don't know - call it Walk/Don't Walk - for three hours now, and only one Johnny has come by. And the sonofabitch wanted to pay me with brand new twenties. I told him to go peddle his bogus bills someplace else, and give me all fives and tens. That's when I found out he only had two tens and a fin. Good thing it was only a blow job. Next client is gonna pay me the money upfront, like the other girls get.”

“Oh, here comes one now. Stick around, Honey. I’ll be right back.”

“Hi, there. Could you give a girl a lift around the block? My car broke down and …”

“How about instead of around the block, I send you over the moon?”

“How do I know you’re not a cop; gonna bust me for something you set me up to do?”

“Hey, look, Sweetheart. I don’t want any trouble. Just hop in the car, and I’ll give you a lift. But watch the glove box. It has a bad latch. If it should happen to fall open, all my money would fall out in your lap.”

“How much is in there?”

“A C note. All fives. ‘Course, if you don’t want it, I can always go over a block and …”

“Let’s go. But I don’t kiss. And a hundred bucks won’t get you in the back door, either. And you gotta wear a condom. I don’t ride bareback for any man.”

“Why don’t you go get yourself a coffee, Dear? I’m gonna be about half an hour with Johnny, here.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Well, that wasn’t too bad. He wanted me to take everything off, though, so it took me a little longer than I thought. At least it got me off these hooves for an hour or so.”

“I gotta get a new skirt. The damn zipper on this one sticks.”

“The bread? Oh I gave that to my man, to hold for me. Oh, Honey, I shoulda told you. The coffee in there sucks. They save the grounds and use ‘em over, and just put in half as much fresh every pot. Next time, go over to that place across the street. They aren’t any nicer, but at least they’re honest.”

“Shit. See that car – the black one? That’s the third time it’s cruised by here. Whadaya wanna bet it’s a cop? Those sonsabitches think they’re so damn cute, cruising by real slow-like. Dumb shits think we’re gonna go over and try and stop ‘em, so they can jack us up for soliciting. Now, if they stop and ask us for favors, that’s a little different. ‘Course, if I was by myself, they’d jack me up anyway. It's good you're here, 'cause with you here, see, that’s a witness. They don’t want any witnesses, ‘cause you might overhear them asking us to put out for them.”

“Besides, it’s safer to have a little company. You never know when some Johnny’s gonna get wise, and try to haul me into the car to get it for free. I gotta get another hundred in the next hour or two, or I’m gonna start getting the shakes. I can tell. I’m nervous now, like my insides are all bustin’ to get out or something.”

“My man? No, he only gives me back half of what I make. He keeps the other half for rent and food and shit. He’s better than most, though, he doesn’t beat me too bad, unless I don’t earn enough to get my own horse money. That pisses him off, when he has to front me, to get right enough to be able to turn the tricks. Or if he’s been drinking, and lost a lot to his poker buddies. Then he comes home all fucked up, and wanting to take it out on me. If I’m high enough, it’s not too bad, though. It dulls the pain some.”

“Here comes that damn car again. They must think I’m stupid or something. Just ‘cause I got knocked up and dropped out of school. I may not be educated, but I’m for damn sure not stupid.”

“The kid? Ah, Hell baby, that was a lifetime ago. You don’t want to hear about that. You DO? Well, I was in high school, and all my friends were doing it. So I went home one night with one of the jocks. Everybody said you couldn’t get pregnant the first time, so I thought what the Hell, you know? He was a pretty good kisser, and he had fingers that went from here to there. I was so hot, I didn’t even know he busted my cherry. Pretty soon he was humping and huffing, and next thing I know, he gives out with this big heave, and groans, and just lies still. But I could feel him pulsing inside of me, so I knew he wasn’t dead.”

“Anyway, my parents hit the ceiling, so I split. Walked out to the four lane, and stuck out my thumb. Got all the way to Chicago and only had to give him two blow jobs. And he gave me twenty bucks, so that was cool.”

“The kid? Oh, I wasn’t ready to have any kids tying me down. My brother was home in diapers, so I knew all about that trip. I hooked up with a guy in Chicago who gave me enough bread to get an abortion. He liked to pretend I was a whore. That was the only way he could get off. So he’d shag me up the butt and leave a twenty on the dresser. He was a dealer, and I used to run a little junk for him, when he was afraid of the heat.”

“Yeah, that’s when I got to using. Hey, look. After I finish my shift, and get myself right, how about you and me… well, you know. My man will be out of the place for the rest of the night, playing poker, and if he wins, he’s gonna want to fuck me. I like to be all loosened up for him, ‘cause he doesn’t know foreplay. A girl like you now, you could be a big help.”

“Oh, Man! Is it getting cold? I’m shivering. And my feet are fucking killing me. And it’s like I get to itching. Here comes another one. Get the good coffee this time. I’ll be right back.”

“Hey, Mister. Could you give a girl a lift around the block? My car broke down and I’m stuck for a ride ...”

“Damn. Honey, you’re the best tranny I’ve ever heard. You taking hormones for that voice?”

“Fuck you, Buddy. I don’t need your trick that bad.”

“Did you hear that? The dumb fuck thought I was a tranny. What kind of perv wants to fuck a guy with tits anyway? That’s sick.”

“Whatsit feel like? Well, at first it hurts, and then it feels like you gotta take a really big shit. But after that, it’s not so bad.”

“Nah. It never got me off. And I couldn’t get him to play with my clit or anything. I tried, but he said no whore would ever want that. Hell, I don’t think he ever figured out where it was, anyway.”

“The only thing ever got me off was myself. Or chicks. Well I guess that makes it all chicks, doesn’t it? Ha-ha.”

“Chicks. Now chicks know just where it is. I mean you could wrap a towel around their whole face and head, and make ‘em wear gloves, and they’d still zero right in on that little hummer.”

“Lots of ‘em don’t like to use tongues, though. Just fingers. Not me. Man when I’m fucking a chick, I want the whole caboodle. I want juice running down my chin and dripping off onto my tits like I’m diving into a watermelon.”

“And if she wants to put her finger up my ass while I’m eating her, that’s okay, too.”

“Oh, Man! There was this one crazy chick in Portland. She was into filling you up. And she knew how to get you hot, too. ‘Course, the coke helped. “

“When I do a line or two, all I want to do is fuck my brains out. And I can come for a solid fucking WEEK. I swear. It’s like coke gets all my juices flowing.”

“So anyway, this chick, she laid out a couple of real fat lines, and we were getting it on. And she starts putting her fingers in me. First it was just two, and I’m panting and clenching, and next thing I know, she has all four fingers in there, and she’s cupping her hand like she’s gonna pick me up by my vagina. And then she’s twisting it around, and she gets her thumb in too. And with her other hand, she’s got her thumb and finger around the base of my clit, and she’s working it like a little dick. I swear to Christ. I thought I’d fucking died and gone to heaven.”

“But she went muff diving on some skinny little bitch with a BMW, so we split. I ate out a truck driving mama to get here. That was three years ago.”

“Looks like that Caddy is slowing down. I’ll bet it’s another Johnny. I’ll be right back.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It didn’t even make the front page. On page two there was a small article from the police blotter.


A student from UCLA was killed last night in what appears to be a drug-related homicide. By-standers said she was interviewing prostitutes for research on a paper. The student’s name is being withheld, pending notification of relatives.

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