Old South Trailer Court Ch. 02byJAMESBJOHNSON©
ALL CHARACTERS ARE ADULTS.
Earl pushed his hand through his hair and nigger-lipped his cigarette, "You coulda got a job." The small fan on the counter behind him blew the smoke away.
Marla draped the dishrag across the oven door, dragged out a chair, and sat. "Doin what? I got no diploma, I gotta record, everbody in this park is outta work, and I got no money to pay a sitter."
Earl looked at her, "Excuses."
"Look, Earl! Ever time you go to jail it takes ever dime I can find to get you out!"
Earl turned in his chair, opened the refrigerator, and pushed shit around, "We outta beer, too!" He griped.
"Yes, we're outta beer. Maybe you could look for a job, too." She suggested.
"I got a job." He replied.
"Not no more," she let the cat out of the bag.
"What you mean? That mother fucker fired me?" He looked surprised.
"Can you blame him, Earl! The man don't make no money when you're in jail."
Earl flipped Marla the bird and got up from the table. "I'm going out," he said.
"Where you going? You know you're supposed to stay home unless you're working," she reminded him.
"You get promoted to my fucking mother while I was in jail?" He tried to be sarcastic.
"Earl we can't afford for you to miss so much work, and then spend the little money we got for bail and lawyers," she explained.
Earl lit another cigarette, opened the front door of their trailer, and said, "Don't wait up for me." And walked through the trailer park to the highway.
He didn't come back that night or the next day, and the day after she got a phone call from the jail; Earl was in jail again and wanted out. But first she needed some fast cash for the rent; Earl would have to wait. She walked to the closest place that was a likely prospect for work and quick money, the Xanadu Lingerie Shoppe out on the highway.
Myrtle Biggins, the owner, explained the situation to Marla, " It's fifty bucks for every twenty minutes the customer spends with you, cash up front. Walt will collect the money and hold it. What you do for the money is your business, and you get paid from the tips you make. And you need to understand that I report your total hours, at minimum wage rates, to the IRS, so every week you're gonna owe me for the FICA and income tax; it comes outta your tips. You clear on that part?" Myrtle asked.
"Yes," Marla responded.
"Good!" said Myrtle. "Now the tips you get depends on what you do with your customer. If he wants to grope you for twenty minutes that's worth fifty, if he wants a blowjob fifty oughta cover it, if he wants in you that's at least a hundred, more if he thinks he's a stud. Sometimes they bring their wives and girlfriends along, charge him double if she wants to play, too. And if there's a problem, we don't know what you been doing. There's a panic button on the wall in your room if you need help. OK? Walt will check IDs to weed out the kids who sneak in."
Marla started work that night. She selected a skimpy baby doll nightie called The Dangerous Affair by the maker. It was twenty-five inches from shoulders to hem, a sapphire color, and made of a diaphanous poly blend. She wore a robe over it outside her room.
Her first customer came along at nine o'clock. He wanted to sit and jerk-off for twenty minutes, for free, but gave up the fifty bucks rather than get on the shop's shit list when the girls compared notes.
About eleven o'clock a black came in with a wad of bills, paid for Marla's time, and tipped her one-hundred, fifty for oral and pussy action. The man spoke as Marla removed the panties, "Leave the top on." When he was undressed he told Marla, "Get on your knees," then pushed his penis into her mouth. "Work it good," he said.
Marla wrapped her fingers around his shaft at its base and let her head do all the work, moving her head forward and back in slow, languid motion, coating the cock with generous gobs of saliva when it was fully inside her mouth, and sucking the saliva back as it came out. "Next time I come here fill your mouth with shaved ice," he said. Marla looked up at him with her big calf eyes and kept sucking.
After ten minutes the man said, "Now get up on the bed, and lift your ass up for me." Marla got on all fours, pushed her ass up, and rubbed her slit with one hand as the man moved his cock to her hole; she guided it in to the hilt and felt his balls press against her bottom.
"Ever had any black cock?" He asked.
"No," she answered.
"You married?" He asked as he moved his pelvis forward and back.
"Yes," she replied, feeling his cock go deeper as the seconds passed. He pushed her long black hair back away from her face.
"How's that black cock feel in that married pussy?" He asked.
"It's big, and it hurts a little, but it's a nice hurt," she whispered.
"You gonna tell your husband about getting some black cock?" He asked.
"No," she replied as she rocked to and fro on the bed.
"Your pussy getting wetter," he observed.
"Feels good," she said.
"What feels so good?" He wanted to know.
"Your cock makes my pussy feel full," she said.
Each was silent for the remainder of the session.
"You want me to cum inside you or in your mouth?" He asked.
"Cum inside me," she told him, and sensed that he'd cum soon.
"Your pussy feel like fingers around my dick, giving me a hand job," he noticed. Marla noticed that she was responding to his fucking and enjoying it enough that her mind wandered a little as he pushed in and pulled out of her.
Then he spewed a load of warm semen. "Feels nice, " she thought. His cock looked like it was coated with Elmer's Glue. He remained in her for a while before he pulled out.
Before he dressed she cleaned him with her mouth, licked her lips, and swallowed the semen as she looked up at him.
"How much you charge to eat my cum out your pussy with a spoon?" He asked.
"Fifty," she said.
He paid her fifty bucks and fetched a plastic spoon from his coat pocket. Then used the spoon to collect cum from her pussy that he fed into her mouth.
"You like spoon fed?" He asked.
"I like cum how I can get it," she whispered.
"Wanna go out with me some time?" He asked.
"Maybe," she replied.