tagLoving WivesThe Fifty Rupee Whore

The Fifty Rupee Whore

bycowboy109©

UrbanSlut on Literotica has written a lovely story titled 'The Fifty Rupee Whore.' This story provides the male perspective of the story. As everyone has their own viewpoint, the man has a different account of the events.

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My name is Birju. I do not know how to read or write. Actually my vocabulary is only a hundred words or so. I speak without articles and adjectives. I would not even be able to understand all the words of this paragraph.

Rohan is writing this account for me. He has the cunning ability to understand my crude language. When I saw a pretty ass in the bustling streets of South Mumbai, I lack the word for 'butt' to tell him. Instead, I say 'woman' and both my hands make a round shape in the air.

And, Rohan can tell from the shape, if I refer to her butt or her tits. From the drawn out melodic 'uhhh' sound that I make singing through the air, Rohan can tell, if it was big ass filling the pants, an athletic tight ass, or skinny innocent ass of a young girl. He can tell if the fabric was tight to pull the butt into shape or a revealing skirt that made me squint to catch a glimpse of what was beneath. And, then he writes that down for you.

I am from the lowest caste. The dog that was walking next to me through the alley with the mixture of mud and shit had a lot in common with me. It was a scrawny dog chewed on by other dogs and beaten by brooms of shop keepers. On the side of the ribs was a large patch of hair missing to expose the skin. Either a bout of prolonged starvation or ugly disease had made it lose its fur.

That's me as well. And, the upper castes like it that way. They like to keep me destitute. They like to see me in stained and torn clothes. They like to see the stringy sinews and giant calluses on me. That's to lose the guilt, when they give me manure to shovel, sometimes with my bare hands, and other demeaning jobs. "Look he hasn't had food for days, but I was so merciful to give him gainful work, so that he could feed himself."

Sometimes, I find myself with 50 rupees in my rough hands. A smart man would have saved it, invested it in a clean shirt to get a better job. A devoted man would have gone to the temple, prayed and given an offering to buy a better life from the deities. In my long years, I learned such desperate tries to be foolish. I always end up sleeping in the mud and shit next to that scrawny dog. For food, I end up eating leaves from bushes and rotted food from garbage bins.

So, when I have 50 rupees, I think nothing of wasting them. That night, I had an itch for a whore. Down in the alley was a pimp, who had whores for 50 rupees. The lights were dim in that street. Men dressed in middle class clothing were standing in groups around the pimps in the streets to negotiate the price. The middle class of engineers and lawyers from the outsourcing companies came here. There money could buy a lot of time with a variety of poor rural women.

Even they had more than enough money, they were still yelling and screaming about the price and services. I silently walked past them, careful not to touch their clean and fresh smelling clothes to avoid a fight. All of the pimps were beyond my means, except for Begum. She ran the 50 rupee program for people like me.

Begum had her black hair neatly arranged and rolled on her head. The bun of hair was stuck in place with pins. She wore a black dress with elaborate stitching on it. Her cheeks were brown and chubby. Her hand was holding the golden cigarette holder with the swirling smoke at the other end of the cigarette. That hand pointed at a spot on the table for me to put my fifty rupees, so that she wouldn't have to touch it or me.

"Room 3: You have thirty minutes. One minute more and I charge you overtime."

I shuffled into the hallway slowly to take my time. The rooms were eight by eight feet cubes with only a ruffled curtain. On both sides of the curtain, I could peek into the rooms. That was the bonus to see girls wiping the spunk off their pussies or see a hairy ass thrusting forward into the loins of a woman.

The third curtain with a red and white checkered pattern that might have fallen off a Scottish truck was mine. I pulled the curtain to the side. The white scuffed mattress lay on the floor. A stunningly beautiful woman sat low on the floor.

Her hair was stunningly cared for by all kinds of hair products that I do not know about. She wore a wrap around skirt and a white t-shirt that showed her voluptuous boobs. Her lips smiled wide and warm, yet twitches in her face suggested her nervousness. The brown tone of the skin on her face was smooth like that of a statue. Her black eyes were large.

"I am sorry. They sent me to the wrong room."

Fear struck my heart. This woman was easily a 20,000 or even 30,000 rupee whore. The 50 rupee whores were ugly. They still had all their limps. Yet, their faces had such a mean look or such an ugly look that defied what one thought is possible of a human face. And, they are rough. They yell at you. They punch you in the face without reason. They refuse to provide the paid for services.

Those 50 rupee whores require an insistent demand and rough hand to force them to surrender to the sex, because they are tired. They are tired of the brothel life. And, they know that they won't get in trouble.

After overcoming her inertia, it is like plunging the penis into hell, a hell of flabby fat folds, gnarly black warts, and dried filth rubbed into black strings. If you survive that, she may actually open her mouth for a kiss. And, the yellow teeth and black gaps for missing teeth require a brave man not to run away. The stench of her poor diet will overwhelm you.

Those are the only women that will even dare to touch me, Birju.

This once, I went overtime on one of them, because her face reminded me of a sweetheart from the childhood in the slums. Begum had me stripped for the extra fee. When she found not even a scrape of paper on me, she drew my blood. She made me pay the overtime with my blood.

And, Begum cared nothing about staying in the safe limits of only half liter. She drew a whole liter out of my skinny, scrawny body. Then, she had me kicked into the streets, where I fainted and woke up to a weak delirium.

So, this pretty girl in front of me could easily cost me both kidneys. And, Begum would not even waste the money to put me into a bathtub filled with ice, like they do with unlucky tourists.

I was ready to leave, when the woman sweetly and softly called me to stay, "You are in the right place. I am your fifty rupee whore." Nobody ever talked that softly to me, not even near me. All the people stiffen up around me, when they see or smell me. So, I paused for a moment, foolish me, risking both my kidneys.

"You could easily make 20,000 or 30,000 rupees. Did Begum's goons kidnap you?"

"No, I am here of my own will. You are here to fuck. You paid. Let's get on with it."

The woman, Mukta, told me about a loving, rich husband. She told me that his gentle and docile way that did not excite her sexually at all. She needed a raw savage to make the blood pump through her veins and into her pussy. Only, the animal way could truly touch the horny animal that was in her, the horny animal that was slowly withering away in a polite and distanced society.

So, this was her exotic zoo. I was her exotic pet. I was here to serve her as an exotic theme park ride. She used my uneducated being and disgusting appearance to stimulate her fantasy. I did not object. Youth roaming the streets have used me for worse. I would get to enjoy her, a woman out of the reach of my caste.

To confirm her willingness, she pulled her white t-shirt over her head. The constraint 34C boobs sprang into liberty. Despite their size, they did not sag. Like beautiful balloons, they stayed up. She pulled of her wrap around skirt. Her naval button was the center of a smooth belly that showed the lines of her trained muscles. She pulled down the thong over her manicured feet. Her pussy was shaved like the pussies that I had only seen in nudie magazines, when I had walked past men browsing them at newsstands.

I stepped closer. She pulled of my pants. My pants were stained by food that had fallen down, pee that had dripped from my penis, and plain street grime from taking the last bath a month ago. Her face looked with disgust and only the bare minimum of her finger tips touched the rim of the pants. And, then she reconsidered, fully grabbing the pant with her palms. She pulled them closer to her face to smell and her whole body quivered with excitement.

My penis was hanging limp and shriveled up. The pubic hair was as long as my penis. A lack of nutrition does not help the libido. She pulled the shirt over my head and looked at my hairy body kneeling in front of me.

At this point, I lost any restraint and thought about keeping my kidneys. I grabbed those bazonka boobs with both my hands to feel them. They were large and full like nothing that I had touched before. But, the thick skin on my hands did not let me feel the smoothness of her skin. I could only see how amazingly tender her skin was.

My rough hands must have been like sharp diamonds cutting the surface of the delicate skin. I could see thin red lines and swirls showing up on her breasts, where I had touched them. All the while, she looked deeply into my eyes. Her eyes were lined by lush and shaped eye brows, perfectly dark accentuated lashes. Her face looked longing, yearning, and wishing to be taken by me.

I took her nipples between my thumb and index finger. I turned them. I pinched and turned them with my raw force. And, being so poor, I have to turn nuts and screws with my bare hands without tools. I turned and pinched those nipples as hard as I have to for a stuck nut on a screw.

She did not cry. She was one of these women, where the nipples were hard wired to her clitoris. The intense stimulation only sent erotic electricity down to her clitoris and made it pulsate sensuously.

I hit her in the face. My arm took a long swing. My open palm struck her cheek. She gasped deeply. The blood went out of her face. The adrenaline was constricting her surface blood vessel. The sudden blow had made her present and come totally to the moment.

"Get hard, Birju. I want to feel you inside of me."

With my hand, I guided my penis to her lips. She willingly opened her mouth and sucked the air out of her mouth to create a vacuum that deliciously on the skin of my penis. With her cheeks puckered in, my hips started moving back and forth. The moist cavity of her mouth was overwhelmingly pleasureful. What better way to die than live the best moments of your life just before the grim reaper arrives.

Her tongue played with my penis. She flicked her tongue around my dick head. Her arms wrapped around my thighs as if she were trying to get as much savage street beast out of me as she could. When my penis grew harder and longer, she struggled to keep it all in her mouth. But, I pushed her head down to my belly. And, I listened to her gulping, puffing, and snorting like the most beautiful melody of angels.

When I was completely hard, I pulled the penis out of her mouth. My penis is not straight and beautiful. Near the tip, it has a bent that goes downward at an almost ninety degree angle. Her face paused with shock at first. And, then she smiled seemingly happy at the thought of being pummeled by an aberration of nature.

I took her by the shoulder and threw her on the white mat face down. She was the same size as me. Her body was full with flesh and muscles from good care, good food, and exercise. My body was scrawny and sinewy from a lack of nutrition and hard work. She was the stronger animal. I was the fiercer animal. My sharp, rough push easily overwhelmed her.

I pressed her face into the mattress. Her cheeks and nose were squished. With my other hand, I grabbed my penis, guided it between her luscious, bulbous, and trained buttocks to point the tip at her anus. Then, I thrust my penis forward with force, through her tensed anal ring into the big open space inside her rectum.

She screamed a muffled scream. Her cheeks ballooned big like a trumpet player, as her exhale got stuck against the thick mattress. Half way in, my penis hit a barrier of her shit. Her shit was compacted and firm. I knew, what the feeling was like, because once, I thought that at the edge of the river, I could make myself a little fuck hole in the mud of the river bank. That mud was hard. All I could feel was immovable mud pushing against the ligaments at the base of my penis as I tried to thrust a hole into the mud. The shit in her ass felt just like that moment.

I pulled my penis out completely to make her go through the agony of having her anus pride open again and my pleasure of feeling that tight ring around my penis. Her muffled scream was even more intense from the anticipation of a second thrust. The scream was so primal that it made my bones quiver and my heart pound. I loved that feeling of intensity that her screams evoked. And, I rammed her ass completely again from outside to inside until my penis hit the shit barrier.

And, I know what it feels like to have your shit pushed up fraction of an inch by fraction. Don't ask how I know. It is too embarrassing. It is this overwhelming and intense feeling that makes you feel helpless and somehow aroused. As my mind got absorbed and focused on pushing her shit up, I didn't quite notice that her cries and ballooning cheeks had mellowed.

Only when I missed entering her ass and slipped into her vagina instead, did I feel the moist back draft of her pussy. Her pussy juices had spread all over her labia and thighs. One of her slender and blemish free hands was vigorously oscillating side to side on the knob of her clitoris. Quiet moans of pleasure 'nnnnn'... 'nnnnn' were rising out of her.

Those grunts were so deeply felt that they made the skin in my arms tingle. The head of my penis almost exploded, because so much blood was rushing into it. And, I started ramming her hard and furiously trying to keep up with the pace of her hand flicking her clitoris. I felt like running behind a train.

"Yes, Birju, fuck me like an animal. Fuck me until I am worn out and nothing but a limp sack of skin."

Her pussy juice was squirting with my romping. The vacuum of the thrusts made farting and slapping sounds. We were like a drum machine with the volume on maximum.

"Yeah, yeah, you filthy street dog, fuck me harder."

She erupted with a loud scream as her orgasm crescendoed. My spunk injected deeply into her womb. My spunk is the only pure and white thing about me. She paused for a moment. I paused for a moment.

Then, I grabbed her exhausted and limp body to place her belly on my thighs. Her head and legs were hanging off either side, as I was sitting her. I spanked her hard on the ass. The ass quivered from my slap as the impact force diffused. Her voice whaled like a little girl in the depth of a tantrum. It hardened my penis.

My hand slapped down hard on the other butt cheek. Her spine arched back in pain. I pushed her neck down with my free hand. With the next slap, tears started rolling down her eyes. The screams turned into defeated sobs. The cheeks on her butt began reddening under her brown skin pigmentation.

And, every time that my hand reached high up to prepare to strike down, her ass would lift up to approach the next hit. She would anticipate which butt cheek I would strike. Her butt would move into that direction, so that my open slap would hit her in between the butt cheeks. So that it would hit her wet and dripping pussy that was lurking out between her thighs.

When she succeeded in making me hit her vagina, her whole body would quiver uncontrollably with pleasure. And, the next stroke, her butt would reach and position itself a little bit more eager. My hand got covered by her pussy juices and my spunk oozing out of her. The hand redistributed the slick slime all over her butt, where it crusted dry. She had a big butt with lots of space for our sexual juices to distribute.

Then, I left her there on the floor with the face torn by tears and her pussy aching for a dick. She was begging me to fuck her again, "Push my shit up all the way. Put your face between my thighs. Bite me." But my time was up and I had to leave her hungry for the next savage to abuse and send her deeper into her exotic trip.

But, I swore that I would be back with Rohan the next day. We both would take her even harder. We'd fuck her from both ends and in every which way.

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