A Terrible Whore

Simmo caught my eye and asked me how I was coping with dating a long-time bachelor.

I smiled quickly. 'It's okay. I'm long-time single, too, so I'm just as bad as he is. It's nice to have someone to talk to, though.'

'Has he met your daughter?'

'No, not yet.'

'I'm sure he'll be fine with having a kid around. Y'know, after the shock wears off. If she can't swear like a sailor now, she'll quickly learn.'

I took a sip of beer, to buy myself some time while I thought up a response. I'd barely raised the glass to my lips when Dean slipped in beside me. He had with him a jug of beer and two glasses, and when he realised I'd bought the same, he wasn't upset.

'Looks like the car might be having a sleepover tonight,' he remarked.

'We're not going to get through two jugs of beer over dinner,' I argued.

'We could try. I reckon if you put in a bit of effort, rather than quitting before you've even started, we'd stand a chance.'

I smiled in disbelief. 'There is no way I'm getting through a jug of beer.'

Dean grinned. 'Why not?'

'I'm not dignifying that with an answer.'

'I've got no fucking idea what that means, but I'm going to assume you're going to stay sitting in the quitter's corner.'

'I am,' I agreed.

I've never been one to get drunk much, not simply because of a lack of money, and not because it's something I judge people for, but because I'm a slow drinker.

It didn't really matter. Dean and one of his mates polished off the beer, and when it was gone, Dean moved us both onto spirits. Everyone was drinking, so it didn't really seem excessive. Dean was a good sort of drunk; happy and outgoing, and affectionate without being inappropriate.

Dinner had come and went, as had dessert and coffee, but Dean and I stayed on with two of his close mates and their partners. We were all getting on well, and we moved to the outside bar area so we could talk freely and the smokers could smoke.

In between conversation, I found myself gazing dreamy-eyed at Dean. When he caught me staring, he'd smile at me or kiss me, his fingers brushing over my arse. The way he touched me left no doubt in my mind as to what he wanted from me when we went back to his house. All I could think was that he'd been trying to talk to me this afternoon about what was going on between us, and I'd been foolish to brush him off.

We finally left around midnight. My feet were sore from my heels and I was half-drunk, and Dean was quite drunk and his shirt was damp with sweat, but we were both horny and happy. When we were waiting for our taxi he held me in his arms and kissed me passionately, and during the ride home, he kept rubbing my knee.

He paid for the fare and led me upstairs and into his house. The dogs barked excitedly and tried to claim a pat, but while I humoured them, Dean scolded them and told them to 'go back to fucking sleep, you dumb cunts'.

'Awww, the poor things,' I said, kicking off my heels. The dogs had jumped back on the couch, where they slept, and were eyeing us resentfully. 'They were probably lonely.'

'They have each other,' Dean argued. 'They don't need your attention as well.'

I took the hint. 'You ready to go to bed?'

He nodded. 'Yeah. You?'

'Yeah.'

We gazed at each other, me staring thoughtfully while Dean eyed me up with undisguised sexual interest.

'You're drunk,' I said.

'A bit,' he agreed.

'How much did you have to drink?'

'Not enough to stop me getting hard, if that's where this is heading.'

'No, no, that wasn't what I was worried about it. I just wanted to make sure you wanted this. Sex, I mean. I'm just making sure you're sober enough to agree.'

Dean laughed. 'You're a terrible hooker. Always have been, always will be. Yeah, I'm sober enough to agree. I could be falling down drunk and I'd still want you.'

'Sorry. I was just making sure,' I apologised.

He shrugged it off and walked to the kitchen. 'I should pay you. I haven't done that yet, and I should have. I shouldn't have forgotten.'

'It's okay. Sometimes I forget you're a client and not a friend.'

Dean opened the cutlery drawer and lifted the plastic container which kept his forks and spoons and knives in their correct spot. Underneath was a few hundred dollar notes. I watched him count them; one, two, three, four, and I watched as he walked over to my purse and tucked them inside.

'That's too much,' I said.

'No, it's not enough.'

'I had a nice time tonight,' I argued. 'And you paid for dinner. Make it two hundred. Take half of it out.'

'Let's leave it as it is,' he responded. 'Two hundred dollars doesn't mean much to me. I inherited my grandparent's house and their shares. I inherited my mother's retirement savings. I've lived alone for nearly fifteen years, and my only debt is my mortgage, and the only reason I have that is because it's cheaper for me to buy stuff for my business against the house than it is to take out a loan. I'm not short of money, Rachael, but you are, so take it.'

'Just because you have something doesn't mean I'm entitled to it.'

'I want you to have it! Fuck, lady, can't I do something nice for you for once?'

'You can, but...'

'...but what? Fuck me.' He stared at the ceiling and laughed. 'Holy shit. Let me tell you something, okay? When you first came over you asked me about this house. You asked how I'd saved up a deposit and I told you some bullshit about my grandparents lending me a deposit.'

'They didn't?'

'No,' Dean snorted as though it was funny I would ever have believed his lie. 'No, Rachael, I was going to get married. I'd saved up money to pay for a wedding. But she left me.'

'God, that's so sad.'

'She kept the engagement ring, she didn't even offer to give it back.' He shrugged. 'Just take the money as a gift. A present. Go and blow it on something that makes you happy. It's a gift, or a tip, whichever you prefer, but it's yours.'

I went to argue, but there was something in his face that suggested all he wanted was for me to say 'thank-you'. So that's what I did, I went over, hugged him, and whispered 'thank-you' in his ear.

Dean kissed the top of my head. 'I wish you were better at your side-job, because your inability to make me secretly resent you is killing me.'

I kissed his neck. 'I don't want you to resent me. I really appreciate you. You don't understand what you giving me money means to me, and if you want the truth, you've treated me better than any man I've ever been with. Thank-you. Really, thank-you.'

Dean didn't know how to take that, and brushed it off. 'Before you start thanking me, keep in mind that I'm about to drag you off to bed and do indecent things to you.'

'I might secretly want that.'

He squeezed me tight. 'Ahh, fuck, you're so beautiful. Come to bed. I want to bury my cock in your snatch while sucking on your toes.'

'Which position would allow that?'

Dean grinned. 'You'll see.'

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean picked me up and carried me off to bed. He laid me on the mattress and climbed on top of me, kissed me and reached underneath my shirt.

He was normally very quick to undress me, and I was usually naked well before him, but this time I was just as demanding as he was. He laughed and asked me if I hadn't liked his outfit. I dragged his pants down his thighs, shushed him, and told him I did, I just liked what was underneath better. His skin was warmer than normal due to the alcohol, which I could smell on him, sharp and heavy, along with the scent of cigarette smoke, antiperspirant, and sweat.

My pulse was racing and I was hot and wet between the legs. I didn't bother to hide my arousal anymore. Dean loved it when I came, and he was always encouraging me to orgasm, and doing everything in his power to make it happen. He was forever slipping between my legs and eating my pussy.

That night was no different. Before I could say or do anything, his head was sandwiched by my thighs and he was enthusiastically tonguing my clit. His hair was quite fine but he had a lot of it, and whatever he'd used to slick it back had grown tacky as he'd sweated. It stuck to my fingers but still I buried them deeper, my nails digging into his scalp.

I glanced down at him, and he chose that exact same moment to look up. His eyes locked on mine and he raised an eyebrow as if asking what I thought. I flushed red with embarrassment and looked away.

Dean's tongue tracked a slow, firm path from my cunt to my clit. He kissed the cleft of my pussy lips then rested his head on my thigh and gazed up at me. His fingers were lazily slipping in and out of my twat but it seemed he wanted some sort of reaction before he resumed eating me out.

'I like it when you look at me when I'm licking your pussy,' he said.

'Oh God. No. That's awful.'

'It's not awful, it's great.'

'Dean!'

'Why are you embarrassed?' he asked.

My face grew redder. 'Because it's embarrassing to be staring at you... you're, um... it just is.'

Dean laughed. He buried his fingers deep inside me and curled them upwards, seeking my G spot. He found it alright, and I jolted half-upright.

'There we go,' he grinned. 'You get really wet when you're close to cumming.'

'Sorry.'

'Sorry? Why the fuck are you sorry? I love it. I love the way you push my head down when you're having an orgasm, deep into your cunt. You always say my name, too. Before you, it must've been, fuck, five years since I made a woman cum. And you just...' He trailed off as he finger-fucked me, leaving me yelping at him and grinding down on his hand.

'Yeah,' he said, withdrawing and leaving me vacant and needy. 'That's it. That's what I've always wanted; someone who likes sex as much as I do, someone whose cunt leaves my fingers coated, someone who just uses me when she wants it. Now all I need is for you to look at me when you cum. You've been staring at me since day dot, and I havta say, missy, that it's about time you let me share that bit of fun.'

'You're drunk,' I argued in a tight, strangled tone. 'And I look at you because I'm just making sure you're going to cum.'

'I'm not arguing that I'm drunk, and I don't care why you reckon you look at me, though I have to say that 'making sure I'm going to cum' is a pretty shit excuse. I'm always gonna cum,' he said. 'And I want you to look at me.'

'You really want me to look at you while you eat me out?'

'Mmhmm,' he agreed. 'And while you cum, if you can manage it.'

'I'm not going to look very sexy.'

'I disagree.'

I weighed up my options. I could either stare at him and orgasm, or look away and not get satisfied. That really wasn't much of a choice.

'Fine,' I agreed. 'I'll look at you.'

My answer pleased Dean. 'That's my girl.'

The dirty little bastard nestled back in between my legs, keeping his blue eyes fixed on me, and got back to work. It was excruciatingly embarrassing. Every so often he'd break eye contact as he adjusted his position or switched movements, but even so, he would check to ensure I was watching him.

My legs started to tremble as I drew close to climax. I desperately wanted to thrust into his face but God, I couldn't, I just couldn't, not while I was looking at him and him at me.

Or, really, I thought I couldn't. Soon enough human nature and natural urges took over and I was staring deep into his eyes as I started grinding on him. I can't describe how he was reacting because I wasn't paying a lot of attention. I was about to cum.

'Dean!' I howled. 'Dean, Dean, Dean, oh my God.'

The moment I calmed back down and unclamped my thighs, Dean rolled over and laughed. The inebriated little shithead shook with mirth, his prick standing up in the air like a bizarre sort of flagpole as he chuckled.

I jabbed his bicep with a foot. 'You want to stop laughing at my orgasm face?'

'I'm not laughing at you. I'm just happy.' He grabbed my foot and kissed it. 'This is going to sound pathetic as all fuck, but I can't ever remember being this happy.'

I was somewhat mollified, if not entirely convinced, by his reply. 'Can I have my foot back?'

'Nope.' Dean shook his head. 'I said I was going to suck on it while I fucked you, and that's what I intend to do.'

'You'll need to get a condom.'

He dropped my foot. 'Fuck,' he replied. 'Good point. Give me half a second.'

Dean managed to go to the bedside drawer, retrieve a condom, tear open the package and roll it onto his erection in record time. He winked at me, grabbed my thighs, and pulled me to the base of the bed, so my bum was on the mattress but my legs were hanging over the side.

I understood what how he wanted to do this, and put my feet on his chest. Dean groaned, moved forward a bit, and lined himself up with my pussy.

'Get ready for the most exhilarating thirty seconds of your life,' he warned.

'I have faith you'll last at least a minute.'

Dean chuckled. 'Fuck I love your optimism,' he said.

He neatly slid inside my twat and let out a groan that showed it wasn't all shits and giggles. He wasn't as hard as he normally got, probably due to the alcohol, but he was most certainly stiff enough to get the job done. As he began to thrust, he picked one of my feet off his chest and stuck my toes in his mouth.

Six months ago I would probably have smiled in disbelief at the idea there were men in the world genuinely interested in nailing me while they had one of my feet in their mouth, but I'd come to find Dean's quirks completely normal. Unlike me, he wasn't at all self conscious about maintaining eye contact as he fucked me. But maybe that was to be expected. He'd been with a lot of sex workers. He'd known they hadn't wanted him, just his money, and he'd fucked them anyway. He'd been able to orgasm in front of women who were thinking... what? What did they think?

Dean let out a little grunt. One of my feet was still on his chest, and I plucked at a nipple with my toes.

'Fuuuck,' he groaned around my foot. 'Oh shit.'

All of the muscles in his body tightened as he climaxed. He drove hard against me, and I had to grip the mattress to avoid being pushed back.

When he'd finished cumming, Dean took my foot out of his mouth and kissed all the toes, one by one.

'You're fucking gorgeous,' he said.

I started laughing. I understood, now, why he'd laughed after I came. There was just an absolute surreal amount of joy and love and I didn't know how else to deal with it.

~~~~~~~~

Afterwards, we lay together, naked and curled up against each other. I could hear his heart beating, thump, thump, thump, and feel his chest rising and falling with each breath he took.

'It's so nice just to lay here with you,' he whispered. 'I've loved spending time with you.'

'Me too,' I agreed. I snuggled in tighter. 'You were trying to speak to me earlier today, about what's going on between us. I'm sorry for fobbing you off. I think it just threw me a bit, you know? And over dinner... I was looking at you, and I, uh, you know, this is terrible, but I was thinking about how much I enjoy being with you, and how it's going to be sad to say good-bye when Elise's braces are paid off.'

'Yeah, well, sorry for springing that on you, but I had to start things off,' he agreed. 'This isn't normal client-worker relations, Rach. I've slept with more hookers than I can count, and none of them have ever given me a hard-on then walked out the door without earning some more cash, or spat a load into a tissue at their earliest opportunity, or gone out to dinner with me and my mates and actually successfully fooled people into thinking they were my girlfriend.'

'They can't all swallow,' I argued.

Dean didn't respond.

'Oh my God,' I swore. 'They do, don't they?'

Dean chuckled. 'Sorry sweetheart, if you want me to tell you a lovely lie, I will, but if you want the truth, you're the only one who's glared at me until I handed her a Kleenex.'

I traced a pattern on his chest. 'Do you still see other workers?'

'No. I did see one, about a month ago, when a mate and I had had a few too many drinks at the pub and decided to call in at the knock shop on the way home, but that was...' he trailed off, trying to find the words. 'That was the last time I reckon I'll do that.'

'Until Elise's braces are paid off, anyway.'

'Probably,' he agreed. 'I was kinda hoping you might want to keep coming around after you'd sorted yourself out financially.'

'I wish I could,' I replied honestly.

'I've had enough to drink to be able to tell you how I really feel about you,' he said. 'Do you want to hear it, or would you rather I didn't?'

'Don't,' I said, knowing what was coming. 'Because I'm at the right stage of my cycle to burst into tears and start crying about the hopelessness of it all if you do.'

Dean sighed tiredly. I knew he was sad, weary, disappointed, because I was all of these things, too. If I could have changed the world to get rid of Carl I would have done it years ago, but damned if I was going to risk trying a relationship with someone while my ex-husband was still around. It wasn't safe, not for me, not for Elise, not for Dean.

Eventually, Dean spoke.

'I'm not going to tell you what to do about your ex-husband, because I'm sure you've had enough of men telling you what to do,' he said. 'But if you ever change your mind, I'm always here. I honestly doubt your ex will continue to be a cunt if I'm around. I'm not saying I'm tough, but I'd fight to the death to defend you and your daughter.'

I wished it was enough. I wished I could just put blind faith in Dean, but I couldn't, firstly, because I would never want to put him at risk, and secondly, because I knew Carl. I knew Carl wouldn't threaten Dean with physical violence, no, he wasn't that stupid, instead he'd do his best to destroy his business and make our lives difficult, and Dean didn't deserve that.

~~~~~~~~~~~

On Friday I got fired from my job.

My boss called me into his office, shut the door and asked me if there had been any 'inconsistencies' on my resume. That's when I knew I was done for, that he'd somehow found out I'd lied on my application.

I had a fairly good idea how he'd have learned of my bending of the truth. Simmo. Simmo was the only one who knew about my old employer, and I'd out and out told him I'd lied on my resume to secure a new position. During dinner on Saturday night he'd asked me who I was now working for, and I'd given the company's name. Yes, if anyone was in a position to ruin my life, it would be Simmo.

I refused to let myself cry. Financially, I was in a hell of a bad position, but crying wouldn't help. Firstly, it would freak Elise out if she came home from school to find her mother sobbing and secondly, I was due to see Dean that night and I needed his money more than ever. Furthermore, I needed to get Simmo's contact details from him.

I was just hopping out of the shower when Elise arrived home. When I'd finished dressing, and was in the middle of putting on my make-up, she asked if she could come in to my room.

'Sure,' I replied. 'What's up?'

'Nothing,' she said. 'I just wanted to know why you were home early and why you're going out.'

'I had some time in lieu up my sleeve, and I'm going out with friends. I'll be back by eight. I've left dinner in the fridge for you.'

Elise stared at the floor. 'Dad said you're seeing someone,' she said stiffly. 'I don't mind if you are. I'm not angry, if that's what you're worried about.'

Carl had taken Elise to her monthly orthodontist appointment on Tuesday. I'd given him the monthly payment in cash and he'd stared at me and asked why I wasn't paying by bank transfer. I'd shrugged and said 'I don't know', and he'd raised his eyebrows disbelievingly, but hadn't argued with me. Really, what could he say? Cash was legal tender.