Uncle Bob Ch. 09

Chapter 9. Street Life

On the Tuesday night, Stacey had finally arranged her little 'street whore' fantasy. She had seized on the opportunity presented when Dolores had to go away for a few days on business, and explained she would stay at my place overnight so we could go to another gig and get to school the following day. I'd separately told Dolores that I had some urgent work to finish on Tuesday, for which I needed my home office, which was partly true, so I was at my place when Stacey arrived with her overnight bag, and went straight to her room to change.

I soon discovered that she'd reserved a room in my name at the same motel we'd visited with Barbie. She'd even used my credit card number, the little minx. She'd planned it all out. "I'll get my outfit on, only I'm gonna put my coat on over it all, 'cuz I so don't want you to see me until I'm, like ready. You drop me by this streetlight and you drive around the block and pick me up, like you're my client. Then we go to the motel, and you pay me a couple of hundred bucks and you fuck the shit out of me. Is that cool?"

Stacey had spent over an hour in her room, getting herself ready. When she came out, she was wearing a longish coat and a baseball cap, pulled down low, a pair of big sunglasses, and carrying a large shoulder bag. She'd wanted me to wear a suit and tie. I looked very much the lonely businessman, cruising for a fuck.

We stopped briefly at the motel for me to collect the key and set up a few things in the room. Then we drove a few blocks to the street she'd chosen. It was a nondescript area, mostly office buildings and warehouses that were deserted around 8pm on a Tuesday. Hardly any passing traffic and only a few streetlights. Not attractive, but not threatening. We drove around the block twice to make sure there were no cop cars in the vicinity. In fact, the whole area seemed empty, which suited our purposes well.

We stopped outside a small office building, the entrance in darkness right by the curb, its parking lot off to the side. "Now Uncle Bob, you've gotta, like, give me a couple of minutes. Just drive around the block a few times, and when I'm ready, I'll watch for your car and I'll be waiting under that streetlight. Cool?"

Cool? Shit, I was so hot and horny -- and frankly, fucking terrified we'd be caught -- that I was anything but cool. "Make sure your mobile is on, Stacey. Here, call my number now. That way, if anything happens, you just have to hit redial and I can be there in seconds."

I drove around the block twice, but she hadn't appeared. Just as I was driving the opposite side of the square for the third time, a cop car pulled out of a side street and flashed me. SHIT! I pulled over, desperately trying to think of a good story.

The cop came and stood by my open window. Perhaps in my suit I didn't look like someone about to break into anywhere. "Hey sir, can you get out of the car?" I did, feeling very nervous. He looked me up and down. "You've been driving around here for a while. What are you looking for?" He looked suspicious, but I guess all cops are paid to look suspicious.

"Sorry, officer. I don't get around to this part of town much. My date gave me directions to a restaurant to meet her. I guess I've taken a wrong turn somewhere. Looks like I screwed up, big time. Can you direct me to the Golden Dragon? Only I don't wanna keep her waiting. I only met her on Tuesday, and she's got the tightest little tush -- oh sorry, I was..."

The cop laughed. "Hey man, keep your mind on the directions on not on her ass. Make a right up ahead, then another right and head back to the main road. Cross over and go straight ahead for around four blocks. The restaurant is on the left..."

At that moment the phone rang. "Where are you?" Stacey asked in exasperated and rather worried tones.

"Oh, hi, sweetie," I said quite loudly. "Sorry, I must have taken a wrong turn. Anyway, this nice police officer was just giving me directions. I'll be with you soon, honey."

The cop laughed. "It had better be a good meal and lots of booze for her, or you'll have no chance with the ass!"

"Thanks officer." I smiled, and got back into the driver's seat, watching in the mirror as he returned to the patrol car, laughing to himself. I drove off slowly, watching as he remained standing, talking to his partner; probably telling him about this sad geek who was trying to impress some tight-assed honey. As I turned into the street where Stacey was waiting, she stepped into the streetlight.

Fuck, she was outrageous. I mean, her hair was in teeny bunches, with really heavy eye makeup, bright pink lipstick, the big hoop earrings and a sort of choker around her neck. She had on this tiny white halter top, made out of thin material, and her long nipples stuck out like bullets. Her skinny belly was bare, and the skirt she had on was -- well, it nearly wasn't. It was so low on her hips that if she hadn't waxed, you would have seen her pubic hair, and if it had been much shorter, you'd have seen her pussy lips. There was a tattoo over her left hip -- I knew it wasn't real, so it must've been painted or stuck on. She wore white, over-the-knee socks that were out of some Max Hardcore movie, and the six-inch heels and platform soles with ankle straps were not designed for walking; they were only fit for sitting on a bar-stool, picking up sad fucks like me.

She sashayed up as I stopped by the curb and wound the window down. "Hey mister, are you looking for some fun." She produced a lollipop, and sucked it in a seriously filthy way.

My heart was still pounding after my encounter with the cop. I nervously checked my mirror, afraid that the cop car would appear any moment, and we would be seriously fucked -- and not in a good way.

"Er -- maybe. You're really pretty. How much, baby?" I couldn't take my eyes off her. If she'd had 'teen whore' tattooed on her forehead, it wouldn't have been more blatant.

"Well, mister, I can give you a hand job for fifty and a nice wet blowjob for ninety. If you want everything, that's a hundred and fifty for an hour, and you can, like, come as many times as you want."

"What -- what would five hundred buy?"

"Oooh, mister, sounds like you're a greedy boy. Maybe I could, like, stay all night. Do you have anything in mind, mister?"

"I -- want your ass." I blurted it out as if it was going to be my first time.

"Oh, mister! I don't, like, usually let anyone in my little ass. See, it's sooo tight. How big are you, mister?"

"How -- how big do you want?"

She giggled. "Not too big. Only, if you're like, way big, then it'll hurt."

I ignored her question. "Do you -- do you deep throat?"

"Hey mister, seems like you want to shove your dick down my throat and up my ass. Is that -- is that what you want, mister?"

"I want it all, baby. And I'm prepared to give you five hundred for it, but you gotta do as I say. Now, do you want it or not? Make your mind up - we don't want the cops to come by while we're talking."

My heart was pounding, partly from the fear that the cops might indeed come back and discover us, and partly from the excitement of the role-play. This was seriously pervy stuff, and I could tell from Stacey's expression that she was getting off on it.

She glanced up and down the road. The lollipop stick still protruded from the corner of her mouth. 'For fuck's sake, Stacey', I thought, 'get in the fucking car before we're caught!'

"OK, mister, I guess so. I can let you try to put your cock in my throat and my ass. For five hundred, right? Only promise me you'll be gentle? My little ass is so tight, and I'm, like, nearly a virgin there. And promise you're not too big?"

"I promise baby, anything. Now get in the car."

She smiled sweetly, which made her look even hornier. Fuck, she looked about fifteen! This was sick! Then she picked up her large bag, threw it onto the back seat, and climbed in. Her skirt, such as it was, rode up. Under it, she wore a tiny pair of thong panties, with no crotch -- just what seemed to be a minute piece of lace over her mound, and a silky cord going on either side of her pussy, forcing her pink lips outward. Under the lamplight, I could see that they were wet.

As soon as she had closed the door, I pulled away quickly from the curb, executing a rapid U-turn and heading as fast as I could for the motel. As we turned toward the main road, I saw the cop car appear in the mirror, emerging from a junction further along the road we were just leaving. I put my foot down, so as to put as much distance between us as possible.

Stacey, meanwhile, turned to me in the seat. "My name's Lori, by the way. What's yours, mister?"

"Er -- John," I replied. At least I was her john.

She reached across and unzipped me. "Oooh mister John, I think you weren't telling me the truth. You've so got a big cock there, mister. I think it's way too big to go in my tiny little pooper. I think it'll so hurt me like crazy."

"Listen, Lori. We have a deal. I promise I'll be gentle. I won't hurt you. Just relax and everything will be fine."

"I -- I'm not sure, mister. It looks totally big, like it's way too big for my little butt-hole. Maybe it's even too big for my little pussy." She kept stroking my cock, up and down, up and down. Shit, if she carried on like this, I'd shoot my load over the steering wheel.

"Lori -- how old are you."

"I got ID says I'm eighteen," she said defiantly.

"Yeah, but how old for real?"

"How old do you want me to be, mister? Fourteen, fifteen? Younger? Are you some kinda pervert, mister?"

I tried to steer away from that line of discussion. "Lori, I think you're a very naughty girl. But you don't look too experienced. How many guys have you been with?"

"Mister, you so shouldn't ask a girl questions like that."

"I don't think it's very many, hey Lori?"

"Just -- just, like, a few."

"And have you ever taken it up your ass?"

"Uh huh."

"How many times."

She mumbled something, continuing to stroke my cock.

"How many, Lori?"

"Just -- just, like, twice. And mister, it, like, hurt. The first time, it hurt real bad."

"But you'll do it again, for me? Don't forget our deal. It's worth five hundred."

"I -- I don't know mister. See, I'm, like, new to this, and you're like, only my third customer, and I'm still sooo tight in my pussy, and even my boyfriend has only put it in my butt, like, once. But - but if you promise to be real gentle, and you so promise you won't hurt me, then maybe it'll be OK, I guess." Her little-girl teasing was driving me insane.

We arrived at the motel, and I was pleased to park the car outside the room we'd booked and switch the lights off. As I already had the room key, we should have been able to go straight in. However, first I got Stacey to put her hat, glasses and coat back on. I was worried what the night man might make of 'Lori' on the CCTV camera. And we didn't move until we saw the cop car drive past the motel and disappear from sight. If we were caught right now, there would be a helluva lot of explaining to do.

Inside the room, I took off my jacket and hung it over a chair, and pulled off my tie. She put down her bag and went and sat down on the bed.

"Hey -- what's with the cameras?" I'd set up several video cameras around the room, giving different views, especially of the king size bed. I'd even hung one from the ceiling. I'd hooked it all up to a disk recorder with the biggest fucking disk I could find. This show was gonna be epic, and neither of us was gonna miss a moment of it.

"Don't mind those, Lori. They're just a little fun idea I had."

"You gotta drink for me, mister?"

"Hey, you're not twenty-one, Lori. I can't let you drink. That'd be illegal."

"Oh c'mon mister, I so need some booze to relax my little butt-hole for you. And we're, like, gonna do some more illegal stuff anyway, ain't we? Pur-lease?"

She pulled a face. Shit, she looked like a seriously fucked-up version of my Stacey from two, maybe three years ago, with her little-girl voice and pout. Deeply perverted, but horny as fuck. I opened the mini-bar, pulled out the bottle of chilled Chardonnay I'd put in there on our earlier visit, and poured her a glass. She drank it very quickly, and I realized she was trembling -- whether with fear or excitement, I couldn't tell. I poured her another, and sipped my own.

Then I went for my wallet, and pulled out ten crisp fifties. I set them down on the nightstand. Stacey/Lori looked at them. "They're all yours -- if you're a good girl."

She looked up at me with a naughty grin. "And if I'm a bad girl?"

I showed her another fifty. "If you're a very bad girl, then maybe there's a tip too."

She set her glass down, stood up and sort of wiggled over to me. She undid my belt and pants and pulled them open, leaning forward to give me a seriously dick-stiffening kiss. "Mister, I need more than the tip. I want the whole fucking shaft!"

Then she squatted down, legs wide apart, and just swallowed me. I'd seen her -- felt her -- do that before, of course, but this time it was so dirty and nasty that I almost came right away in her throat. I put my hand behind her head and made a half-dozen quick, hard thrusts, balls-deep. She made some gagging noises, and I pulled back, looking down at her face as she looked up at me, gulping air.

"Hey mister, that's not nice. You said you'd be gentle. That's a big cock you've got there. Don't hurt my poor little throat."

"Lori, you little slut. I've paid you five hundred bucks and I'm gonna fuck your skinny little ass anyway I want to. Understood?"

"But mister..." she bleated.

"Understood, whore?" I said, bending down and forcing her head back to look at me. There were tears in her eyes. We'd agreed a safe word -- 'Trump', this time, just in case she wanted to say 'whoa' -- but she showed no signs of wanting to use it.

"That's not fair. I..."

"Understood, you dirty little slut?" I said, raising my voice and my hand, as if to slap her face.

"Yes mister..." Her face screwed up like she was about to cry. But I knew Stacey's game was barely started yet.

"Down on my dick, you little cock-sucking slut!"

I forced my dick back into her wet, open mouth, deeper into her wet, gooey throat, and gave it a pretty good fucking. I hadn't told Stacey, but I'd taken a Viagra tablet. Now I know that's not really necessary at my age, but I knew she'd want me to keep going all night, and I wasn't sure how many times I could perform. I find Viagra keeps me hard and slows me down, so I was able to fuck Stacey/Lori's throat for maybe five minutes without coming.

As I let her come up for air, she was gasping and sobbing. "Oh mister, please! You're, like, so cruel. Please give my poor little throat a rest! Please?"

"OK, slut." She was still squatting at my feet, knees wide apart. I reached behind her neck and pulled the bow on her halter top, then took hold of her shoulders and lifted her up. In her heels, she was almost as tall as me. Her nipples were hard and very erect. I squeezed one between my thumb and finger, then sucked the other between my lips. She moaned.

Then I reached down and slapped her ass, making her yelp. "Show me your cunt, you little whore."

She gasped, as if shocked. "My -- my..." she stammered.

"Your cunt, you little slut. Your fuck-hole -- well, at least one of them. Here..."

There was a zipper from the waistband of the skirt to the hem -- around six inches maximum. In one move, I'd unzipped it and the scrap of fabric fell to the floor. I spun her around and pulled the other bow on her top, the one keeping the garment attached, inverted, just below her titties, and whipped it away to join the rest of her tiny pile of clothes. Then I almost threw her onto the bed, pulling her ankles wide apart and staring straight into her pussy.

Like I said, the panties were little more than a thin waistband with two little ribbons that went between her legs, outside her pussy lips, joining in the crack of her ass. There was some sort of decorative web of little straps and lace at the front that formed a curving panel to frame her pussy lips, and a smaller one at the back where the ribbons rejoined the waistband. The effect was to squeeze her outer lips together and present them like a beautiful, pink fruit, dying to be tasted. The sight was made raunchier and more depraved by the little socks that finished with a cute frill just above her knees.

I stood, admiring the view as I took off my shirt, shoes, pants and socks. Then I dived in to taste her fruit. I was expecting to find the butt plug inserted, but it wasn't in evidence. However, when I rimmed her, I could taste some of her flavored lube. She was definitely prepared.

For the next ten minutes, I ate her. That is I licked, nibbled, probed and slobbered over her slit, finger-fucking her at the same time until her little, whimpering cries of 'oh mister' were replaced by some full-on shrieks of orgasm. What there was of her panties were by now slick with her juices and my saliva, so I shimmied them down her legs and off, flicking them across the room to join her skirt and top. Then I stood up, pulling Stacey -- or Lori, as I now resolved to think of her -- to her feet.

Fuck, she looked so outrageously horny. Her mascara had run, her lipstick was smeared, but her hair bunches were still in place, and she was wearing nothing but her jewelry, her cute socks and 'fuck me' heels. She looked frightened, vulnerable and nasty at the same time. Totally, intensely, irresistibly fuckable.

I opened the drawer by the bed and pulled out a tube of lube. "You know what this is for, you little whore?"

Lori's face adopted a rather alarmed expression. She nodded, looking convincingly scared.

"Mister, I -- I've been, like thinking. Maybe -- maybe you should, like, just stick to -- to fucking my pussy for tonight. It's real tight, I promise. And -- and I'll, like, give you some of your money back. Only don't -- don't..."

"Lori, you little whore, I brought you here tonight to fuck your ass, you said I could do it, and that's what I'm gonna do, understood?"

She looked at me like she was going to cry. Shit, I had to keep telling myself 'this is an act. She's Lori, a street whore that is gonna get it up the ass. This is not Stacey. She's only pretending to be scared, only pretending it's gonna hurt, and secretly begging me to give it to her. You've gotta go through with this -- it's what Stacey really wants. Fuck, it's what you really want, you dirty perverted asshole!' Otherwise, I'd have just taken her in my arms and told her it was all alright.

"I asked you a question, Lori. What am I gonna do?"

"You -- you're gonna -- you're gonna -- stick it in my butt, mister."

"Sure, Lori, I'm gonna stick it in your tight little butt and fuck it until I cum. Do you understand that?"

She looked down, and replied in a weak voice. "Yes, mister. Only -- only please- please be gentle. Like. Your cock is sooo big, and like, my butt-hole is -- is so tiny."

"Whether I'm gentle or rough is very much up to you, Lori. If you're a good girl, well, it shouldn't hurt you -- much. But if you try to renege on our deal, if you clam up tight -- well, then I'll just have to force it in. Do you understand?"

Lori gave a little sob. 'It's Lori, not Stacey! She's just acting. It's part of her game' I told myself.

"Ye- yes, mister. I'll do whatever -- whatever you say. Just please -- please don't hurt me?" Her voice had just the right note of pleading to be convincing.

I tried to size up the situation. In her heels, Stacey's ass was too high off the ground for me to fuck without her spreading her legs so wide she'd probably fall over or bust an ankle. If she knelt on the bed, I might end with a heel spiked in my thigh if she started thrashing around. So I decided to go for 'dirty missionary', which is anyway one of my favorite positions and one that had worked so well the last time we'd tried.