Freda was tired, but she was still intrigued by the stow of Tuesday's life,
"This Manny cat sounds like he might have been the very guy a girl would like to meet. Hell, he ought to have been able to show you some new tricks."
Tuesday's laugh was bitter. "Yeah," she sneered. "He showed me a hell of a lot of ropes. If I had had a ten-foot length of one, there were a lot of times I would have swung myself from a rafter. This guy had to be the number-one asshole of all time."
"Really?" Freda said, her eyes brightening.
"No, not really. I mean he was too damn much of a snob to really get down and eat, a cunt. He was just a bastard. He was the type who would hold his mother for a nigger to fuck!"
"What are you? Some kind of racist? I never knew you had anything against blacks."
"Hell, I haven't but that was an old whorehouse saying back in the long-gone days when Manny was showing me how to rise in the world…"
Manny smoked cigars and wherever he went, there was usually a trail of acrid smoke flowing out behind him. Conversation with him was a study in survival, and Tuesday always tried to get upwind of him if possible. He also had an annoying habit of farting, and this again proved the upwind position to be the best one.
"Listen," he told Tuesday, punctuating his remarks with stabs of the cigar into the air. "There are more cocks than there are available cunts. You know that. So the deal is to manage your cunt right and fill up the bank with money."
"How?" Tuesday asked.
"Hell, Henry Ford couldn't sell cars. He made em, but he got him some smart people to sell 'em. Now you got a quality product in your pussy. But you can't sell it. You'll always be a two-bit hooker if you don't get some smarts. You got to have proper management. It's the way to fame and fortune!"
"And you got the proper management?" she asked doubtfully.
"Damn right! Listen! It's just a matter of moving in the right circles. I can move in those circles and steer you to the guys. You know, on a call-girl basis. Hell, I figure with your cunt and your looks, a hundred a pop would be reasonable."
"A hundred a pop? You mean everytime a guy comes or fucking all night?"
"Oh, you'd give him a couple of hours for the hundred. I figure two or three a night. Six or seven if we work in the college fraternity set. Hell, you ain't ever seen so much money!"
After a couple of days, Tuesday decided that if there was no other way than to be a whore, she might as well be a high-class one. Reluctantly, then, she agreed to submit herself to the "management" of Manny McDowell. In reality, she knew that Manny was a pimp and nothing more.
The customers did, indeed, begin to come with regularity. There were old men and guys so grassy green that she had to fish out their cocks and get them started. There were blacks and whites, Indians, foreign and domestic, and she even had an Oriental. This was her first major shock after turning pro.
The man was small and under his tailored suit, Tuesday could tell at a glance that he was well proportioned and muscular. His slanting eyes and heavy lids made her feel nervous.
"Ah, Missy," he said with a smile. "Indeed, I do myself honor to be here. Ah, let me conclude the vulgarity of our financial arrangements." He handed her a tightly wadded hundred-dollar bill and averted his eyes as she stuffed it into her handbag on the dresser.
"Okay," she said matter-of-factly. "It's your party, mister. Just tell me how and what."
His eyes appeared to be pained. "Ah, Missy, it is your choice to make the style of our meeting. I am a poor foreigner visiting your wonderful country. I would like to experience everything in a native
way."
Tuesday was about to tell him that there was no strictly American way to fuck, and that citizens of the USA got their jollies in every conceivable manner.
"Well, we make love a number of different ways," she said. "But I guess the most grass-roots American way is dog-fashion."
"Dog… dog-fashion?"
"Yes," she said. "It's a ticklish thing because you, come in from the rear while I'm kneeling. The trick is to tickle me about my asshole."
"Please," he said. "I only want to get the general idea. Would you, therefore, do me the honor of disrobing and assuming the proper position? Mean while, I, too, will divest myself of my garments so that I shall be in the proper condition to accept the beauty of your body."
Tuesday was certain he was not putting her on. Quickly, she stripped off her clothes and was naked before he could carefully hang his trousers over the back of a chair.
As soon as she was naked, Tuesday hopped up on the bed and sank on her knees. Then she leaned forward and put her head on the bed. Her ass was turned up to his view, and both her asshole and cunt yawned open to him.
He hesitated for a moment, and then began to peel off the remainder of his clothes and hurl them into a careless heap on the floor. Tuesday was anxious to see his cock.
However, he kept his back toward her, and she saw the rounded contours of his ass. He turned to
show her his fully erected cock.
Tuesday blinked. His prick was without question the most incongruous thing she had ever beheld in her life.
Mr. Hiroto was scarcely five feet tall, but he had a huge and well-developed prick which reared out of his crotch like a missile ready to launch. The shaft was a pale yellow. But when her eyes had wandered the full length of nine inches, she discovered a flaring head peering from underneath a pronounced foreskin. The head, like all the cocks she had ever observed, was red and angry-looking, and there was a distinct possibility that the foreskin was not going to skin back all the way.
Underneath his prick, there was a gathering of loose flesh which Tuesday felt reasonably certain was the product of surgery or abuse. She could not be awe of which, but she was very certain that it had not grown that way of its own natural accord.
It was truly an awesome cock, but Tuesday was not exactly a beginner in the art of fucking and it held no fear for her.
His cock was much slimmer than any nine-inch prick she had ever seen, but the girth did not interest her as much as that head. If the skin would not come back, he would be very slow to come. If it did come back, then it would either slide all the way to the rear and expose a smooth, well-oiled surface, or it might, as some she had previously sucked and fucked, bunch itself into an unyielding wad right behind the head.
This kind of cock always rode the hell out of a clitoris, and sometimes, even on a commercial
fuck, Tuesday would be coming under the fucking of such a heavily wadded foreskin.
Mr. Hiroto whirled with the grace of a ballet dancer and faced her with his legs thrust wide apart, a heavy sac of pendulous balls swinging between his legs. His cock did not soar upward as most cocks do. Rather, it stuck out at a right angle from his body. He would not have to pull it down to reach her hole. He would merely have to extend himself straight forward.
But Mr. Hiroto was not a man to fuck at once. Tuesday watched him as he bent low to inspect her ass. Gently and tentatively, he probed about the brown bud of her asshole. Goddamn, it tickled, but he did not make her want to jump. Instead, she found that she was as fascinated with his inspection as he seemed to be with her asshole.
He lowered his face until she could feel his breath on the inside of her ass crack. His nose soon came in contact with her asshole, and she felt his knees sink against the bed. Then, as he forced his nose up her asshole, she felt a shaking and vibrating which could mean only one thing. The son of a bitch was jerking himself off.
Now what kind of shit was this?
Tuesday craned her neck to see better, and she had a clear view of him striking at his cock with lightning like, seven-inch strokes.
Each time he ran his hands up and over the head of his cock, he allowed, his second and third fingers to part, and the shaft would run upward through the aperture. Deeper into her asshole he nuzzled. As his nose burrowed further, Tuesday became
aware that he was taking an oral interest in her cunt with his mouth. She felt his teeth nabbing against the jaws of her cunt, and involuntarily, she squeezed her pussy together. That one seemingly innocent gesture was her undoing.
From the passive asshole sniffer, Mr. Hiroto was transformed into a raging maniac who scared the living shit out of Tuesday as he flung himself screaming upon her. He grabbed her roughly and threw her from her kneeling position to her back. Then he lunged on top of her, biting and clawing her with all his considerable strength.
Tuesday, not expecting his attack, was certainly ready to accept his cock into whatever hole of her body he wanted to stick it in, but she was not prepared to accept his long nailed hands which were upping her flesh from her back and opening long bleeding lacerations in both her titties. Not only did he claw, but he also bit, growling deeply in his throat as he probed her upper body with his mouth, biting little chunks of her as he went.
It took Tuesday maybe a half minute to realize that the son of a bitch was not just a violent fucker. Hell, he was a dangerous sickie who could easily inflict serious wounds on her body.
Tuesday began to fight back like a tigress. But she was no match for his strength.
But the suddenness of her retaliation hit him unprepared. He was bowled over backward, and a livid streak of red appeared from just under his left nipple, downward across his stomach. This had been opened up by Tuesday's long fingernails.
Feeling the pain, he hesitated a moment, looking
down at the blood on his body. Then, with eyes blazing, he smiled a leering, crooked grin, and leaped back upon her.
This time, he was "no nonsense" Hiroto. He jammed his fingers deep into the softness of her titties, and when she felt the flesh tear, she opened her mouth and screamed. It was the cry of fright, of desperation, and of release. For while Tuesday was in severe pain, there was a certain electric stimulation to what the little man from the Far East was doing.
He soon exhausted his interest in her bleeding body and her lacerated tits, and turned his slavering attention to her cunt. Shaking his head about like a mad dog, he forced her legs apart and dove… literally dove into her muff. His hard teeth crashed into the puffy softness, and he bit her pouting pussy, biting hard until there was a taste of blood in his mouth. Then, changing his course, he became strangely gentle, and sought to suck her clitoris out of its protective hiding.
Though Tuesday had been somewhat thrilled by the pain, she was not turned on. She had no passion for the yellow brute who was ravaging her body. Thus, her clit was not hard and it wasn't stimulated. But Mr. Hiroto had seen reluctant clits before.
He pulled her cunt apart until she feared it would split. The skin tightened over her upper snatch and revealed her buried clit. Licking his lips, Mr. Hiroto started a hard suck from the upper end of her cunt slit and gobbled hard until he had pulled her clitoris into his mouth.
Then he performed an Oriental clit clobbering which sent Tuesday's asshole to opening and slamming shut in such horrendous succession that she wondered at the speed of its flapping.
Once he had the clitoris under his control, Mr. Hiroto probed it expertly with his tongue. Tuesday was unable to keep it from becoming hard. As it rose in his mouth, he roughly shoved his index finger up her asshole, ramming his thumb up her twat. She was literally going out of her mind, for as he worked on her clit, he was deftly but surely cuffing the inside of both her cunt and asshole with his fingernails.
His cock was spewing juice all over Tuesday and the bed. This madman was not interested in fucking her dint; he only wanted to impose pain and suffering. Tuesday was sure that if she survived Mr. Hiroto would go away with his cock unsullied by a Western cunt.
After her cunt and asshole were bleeding, and her titties seemed to be about to drop from her body, Tuesday gave up resisting. She lay still, hopefully that he would soon blow his load into the air, and fall away. Then, by God, she would deal with him.
But he was not going to unload in the air! As soon as both her cunt and asshole were ripped into bleeding pulps by his fingernails, and her clit had been sucked until it felt as though it might separate from her body, Mr. Hiroto jerked his hand from her pussy, and again started to pull his meat.
Goddamn, how the juice flew!
At first she thought hopefully that he had come.
But then she knew from the consistency of the ooze which he was spilling on her that it was not come; it was only a copious supply of cooze oil. The juice from his cock not only soaked Tuesday and the bed, but it also ran back over Mr. Hiroto's dick, saturating his upper stomach, and running down to drench his balls which were drawn up tightly under his body.
He bared his teeth again, and Tuesday prayed.
God, don't let that slant-eyed son of a bitch bite a nipple off one of my titties. Her prayer was apparently heard and answered. Mr. Hiroto made no further effort to gnaw on her breasts. Rather, he jerked himself upward, and he seized his cock and lowered himself so that it fucked into her bloody pussy.
Ah, she was relieved to find that her cunt was still intact. She did her best to relax and let his cock slide in. She would not bite down with the muscles of her twat.
He began to fuck. And he fucked well. He varied his depths and his directions. But Mr. Hiroto fucked alone. Tuesday did nothing whatever to aid him or to meet the challenge of his cock. She was too frightened, and a little sick over what he had done to her. So, he was paying her a hundred. The cocksucker ought to shell out a thousand for what he had done. By God, would she ever tell that bastard Manny a thing or two!
The sweat streamed down Mr. Hiroto's face. His balls were building higher and higher toward their inevitable explosion. Tuesday was holding herself back. She knew that with one or two more
hunches she could bring him to orgasm before he knew what hit him. Then, feeling the throbs of his cock, Tuesday closed her eyes to let him come, to get the whole nightmare over with.
But Mr. Hiroto was not to be brought off so easily. He was getting his money's worth. He plunged his cock to the maximum depth, and then with a slooshing sound, he extracted it from her cunt.
Before she could open her eyes and focus them, she became painfully aware of why he had withdrawn. As soon as he was out of her cunt, he raised her ass off the bed, and with a reckless disregard for the delicate nature of rectal flesh, he drove his big-headed prick to the hilt in her battered asshole.
Tuesday again rent the air with a pitiful scream. Mr. Hiroto seemed to be heightened by the sound. He quickened the pace of his assault, and poured the prick into her bowels.
Then, with a scream of his own, Mr. Hiroto unloaded his sperm. Tuesday distinctly felt the heat of his come as it poured into her asshole. She was suddenly glad he had chosen to get his rocks off in her ass. The warmth of his jizm soothed her wounds, and as the trickle of his ball juice dripped out of her asshole and down between her legs to soak the bed again, she felt that she had indeed suffered the extreme cruelty, and had survived.
Mr. Hiroto's cock began to soften inside her.
"Get off me, you son of a bitch!" she cried. "Goddamn you. PU kill you!"
Mr. Hiroto had not grown to middle years being
either slow or foolish. No longer inflamed by the passion of his depraved desires, he was at once the meek little man who had been so solicitous of her in the first place.
"Forgive me, missy," he said, rolling off and shaking the come off his cock onto the floor. "I was carried away. Oh, I am truly sorry to have hurt you.
"Hurt me!" Tuesday screamed as her tears began to flow. "Goddamn, you have nearly killed me. Look at me. Just look! Bloody and torn up. I'll kill you!"
"Peace! Peace!" he said, with palms outward. "I really meant no harm. I was merely overcome by the wealth of your charms."
"Oh, bullshit!" she cried. "I'm You've put me out of business for God knows how long! It's just like somebody burned your place of business."
Mr. Hiroto smiled sympathetically. "As the responsible party, I can pay the damage. How would three thousand dollars, American, seem to you?"
The pain went out of Tuesday's cunt. "Three thousand… dollars?"
"Yes," he said. "You have given me great pleasure, done me great honor, and it is only fitting that you should be compensated for your effort and your damage."
She was speechless.