Juliet let him in, and they exchanged some tired pleasantries. I guessed they were undressing. Then I heard the creak of bed springs, and Juliet’s raucous voice. “C’mon, big man, do me!”
Clive grunted. The bed creaked again.
It was my cue call. I strode out of the bathroom, heels clicking on the dirty floor, and I sat down on the wicker chair in Juliet’s bedroom.
On the big unmade bed, Juliet was laying down, naked but for her fishnets and her bracelets, legs spread wide, knees bent. She was propping herself up on her elbows. Clive’s pale buttocks were trembling as he pumped between her legs. His trousers were on the ground, together with his jacket. He was still wearing a white shirt, through which I could see the shadow of his wife-beater.
Juliet grinned at me over the man’s shoulder.
“Put some more energy in it, love,” she said. “We have an audience.”
Clive groaned and turned to look at me over his shoulder. He was in his late thirties, with a face like a bank clerk. I took along drag on my cigarette, the taste of tobacco mingling with the bitter drip of coke at the back of my throat. I crossed my legs, dangled my foot.
My presence put some fire in the man’s performance. He grabbed Juliet by the hips and pulled her ass off the mattress, all the while pushing inside of her like there was no tomorrow. The blonde’s eyes widened, surprise replacing ennui. She pushed her long plastic nails in his buttocks. “Yeah, big man!” she roared in his ear, “Make me come!”
She threw her head back and arched her spine. There was a tattoo of a bush of roses on her right side, between the hip and the armpit, along the curve of the ribs. Clive increased his speed, changing position to work Juliet’s cunt with more force.
She gasped and looked up. She locked her eyes in mine and a dirty smile spread over her maroon cocksucker lips. She licked them. I slid a hand beneath my skirt, my fingers meeting the wet between my legs. I blew out a lungful of smoke from the corner of my mouth. I grinned back at her and started pumping two fingers inside my twat, matching Clive’s rhythm.
We went on like that for long minutes, Clive working Juliet’s cunt and she making me hot, moaning and screaming and always holding my gaze, her eyes famished. Then she lurched up, embracing him, her nails leaving parallel red marks on his back.
“Yes!” she shouted, her blue eyes burning into mine. “I’m coming! Goood, yesss. Make me come! Now! Now!”
I shuddered, the orgasm mounting inside of me.
Clive came with an obscene groan, pushing his face in Juliet’s massive cleavage. She came in turn, with a curse and a mad grin. She floated down from her coke- and sex-induced high watching me come last, my hips rocking, my body shaken by spasm of pleasure, my soul singing in the white dust desert of my mind.
Our heavy breathing was the only sound in the room for a few long minutes. Still holding Clive’s head between her tits, Juliet winked at me, and I grinned and winked back.
I stood as Clive moved to put his pants back on.
He looked at me as he counted three hundred bucks and placed them on Juliet’s night stand.
“Thank you,” he whispered, his eyes low.
He was halfway through the door when I caught his arm and stopped him.
“Wait!” I said.
Juliet stared at me.
“Wha—what?” Clive asked.
I pulled my top off, giving him a full display of my mesh-encased melons. “What about another one hundred and fifty to watch me and Juliet go lesbian?”
He stared at my pierced nipples with eyes agog.
“You have just to sit there,” I said, pointing at my chair.
He stare at the wet patch I had left on the cushion. Then he nodded, eagerly. “Yes!”
I pushed him in the wicker chair, and moved to the bed.
“You can jack off if you want,” I said.
I bent down, grabbed Juliet by her hair, and pushed my tongue deep down her throat.
She placed her hands on my butt, and dragged me down on her.
“You are a genius!” she whispered in my ear. Then she bit my earlobe, her fingers running up and down my spine.
With an animal grunt she pushed me down and spread my knees apart.
“Let me taste your honey, babe!”
#
Later, after Clive had cleaned himself with a piece of tissue and dropped three fifty banknotes over our sweaty naked bodies, I sat on the bed, my thigh brushing Juliet’s.
I lit two cigarettes and handed one to her.
The tobacco mixed with the taste of her juices on my tongue. The effects of the coke were waning, but it was all right.
Juliet nodded, and finished counting the money. She handed me my share.
She stretched and smiled. “You are a wonder, babe,” she chuckled.
She took a long drag and fell back on the mattress, blowing smoke towards the mirror on the ceiling. “Never been paid to have so much fun before.”
I laid back by her side, and ran my fingers from her tumescent cunt up to her fake tits, tracing the design of her rose tattoo.
“We should offer this as a standard service,” she said.
I blew smoke in her face. “I’m not a whore,” I said.
We both laughed out loud, fondling each other.
“For a moment you tricked me, you know,” Juliet smirked.
Her hand cupped my twat. “On the other hand,” she purred, “I am a whore, you know?”
I straddled her, placing my hands on her impressive tits. “Does it mean I’ll need to pay you now?”
Her eyes sparkled, and she ran the palms of her hands over my nipples. “For you, only fifty bucks, sugar.”
I leaned over and ran my tongue between her tits. Then I continued, licking her throat, my own boobs squashing hers, her nail-like nipples catching my piercings. Then I was pushing my tongue in her mouth, my red-hot pussy rubbing against hers.
She gripped my buttocks, seconding my tempo.
I let go of her mouth. “Make sure you make it worth it,” I grinned.
#
I staggered back home, wrapped in a dirty sheet, make-up smeared all over my face, my rags a bundle under my arm.
My mother was stretched on the sofa, working the bong. She looked at me and chuckled. “Just look at you,” she said, shaking her head and smiling. “I hope the little whore did pay you extra.”
I dropped one hundred bucks in her lap and sat down. She handed me the bong. “Good girl,” she said. She counted them, then pushed the banknotes in her cleavage.
I put my lips around the mouth of the bong and took a deep drag, filling the chamber with thick bluish smoke. Then I released the carb and the smoke rushed into my lungs. It felt like drowning. It was marvelous.
I handed the water pipe back to my mother and waited for the pressure on my chest to become insufferable. Then I pursed my lips and let out a long thin stream of smoke. My mind floated, and I sat back, slowly bouncing on the high. The weed took the edge off the coke, making everything mellow and delicious. My mother sat in a lotus position, and hit the bong again.
“You had a go with this Clive?” she asked.
I giggled, then burst out laughing loud.
“No, I fucked Juliet while he watched.”
My mother coughed out a mouthful of smoke, and snickered.
“You two! Always going at each other!”
“She has great tits.”
She kissed my shoulder. “You took your good taste from your mother.”
I laid back, my head full of tissue, colors playing in the half lit room. “Yeah,” I said. “Juliet said I taste good.”
We laughed, and my mother re-loaded the bong.
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