by Ray Gordon
‘Where are you going?’ Ian asked me. ‘We’d arranged to meet.’
‘I didn’t think you were going to turn up,’ I said, offering him a slight smile. ‘I’m sorry, Ian. It’s late now and I have to get home so –’
‘It’s early,’ he said, checking his watch. ‘In fact, I’m ten minutes early.’
‘All right,’ I conceded, looking around the park. ‘Just quickly, OK?’
‘Let’s go into the woods. It’s too open here.’
‘Behind that bush will do,’ I said. The last thing I wanted to do was to go into the woods with him. ‘You’ve got the money?’
He passed me the cash and followed me behind the bush where he dropped his trousers. I didn’t want to do this, I thought, kneeling on the ground and grabbing Ian’s solid cock by the base, but I couldn’t let him down. Fully retracting his fleshy foreskin, I sucked his purple plum into my wet mouth and snaked my tongue over its silky-smooth surface. He breathed deeply, his body trembling as he clutched my head and rocked his hips slowly. It was only about nine o’clock, I thought as I wanked his rock-hard cock. The later I got home the better the chance of my parents being in bed. I was in no rush to get home. Besides, this was incredibly easy money despite what I’d thought earlier about not needing Ian’s cash.
‘Do you have a vibrator?’ Ian asked me.
I slipped his swollen knob out of my mouth, looked up at him and frowned. ‘No, I . . . I don’t,’ I replied, wondering whether he’d followed me home the previous evening. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘I just wondered. I’d have thought that a girl like you –’
‘I have no need for a vibrator,’ I cut in.
As I sucked his purple knob into my hot mouth I felt sure that he’d discovered my address and sent me the vibrator. I should have been more careful, I reflected. Anyone could have followed me and discovered where I lived. The last thing I wanted was men calling at the house for sex. Maybe I should move out and get a flat, I mused as I licked Ian’s knob and wanked his cock faster. I didn’t want to have to move out but, if I was going to carry on working as a prostitute, I’d have no choice.
Ian’s spunk gushed from his throbbing knob as he gasped and shuddered, and I gulped down his creamy offering. It had only taken a few minutes, I thought happily as my mouth overflowed and sperm splattered my blouse. In the past I’d have been delighted to have earned twenty pounds. Now I had so much cash that I wasn’t really bothered. There again, five blow jobs every day would bring in some useful money.
Ian finally pulled his cock out of my spunk-flooded mouth and zipped up his trousers. Standing in front of him, I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand and brushed my long blonde hair back with my fingers. I thought it was odd that he hadn’t wanted sex with me. He hadn’t even wanted to look at my young body, let alone fuck me. Perhaps he’d thought that he couldn’t afford it.
‘Why did you ignore me earlier?’ he asked me.
‘I was walking and I didn’t hear you.’
‘No, I mean in the pub this evening. You were sitting with a man and I smiled at you but you ignored me.’
‘Oh, yes . . .’ I stammered, realising that he must have seen the slut in the pub. ‘Sorry, I was rather tied up.’
‘A punter, was it?’
‘Yes, yes, that’s right.’
‘You could at least have winked at me.’
I didn’t need this, I thought as I walked away. ‘I have to go now,’ I called out.
‘Tomorrow, same time?’
‘Yes, yes – that’s fine.’
While I was walking home I repeatedly turned round to make sure that I wasn’t being followed. I should never have cut through the park, I thought, as I once more ran my fingers through my sperm-matted hair in an effort to tidy myself up. I wouldn’t go to the pub again, and I wouldn’t cut through the park, I decided. I had John and Harry, and another man turning up tomorrow evening, so I didn’t need anyone else. When I reached my house my heart sank as I noticed that the lounge light was on.
‘Where have you been?’ Alan asked me as he approached. ‘Your mum said that you’d gone out. I thought you were studying this evening?’
‘An old friend rang me,’ I lied as he looked me up and down. ‘I went out with her for a drink and a chat about old times.’
‘You said you’d see me, Ali. You said that, when you’d finished studying –’
‘Alan, we didn’t have a definite arrangement,’ I interrupted, trying not to appear angry. ‘Jenny rang just as I finished my work and wanted to meet up with me. I haven’t seen her for several years.’
‘Well, at least you’re here now. That skirt . . . Why are you dressed like that? You look awful.’
‘We . . . we walked back through the park and I tripped over.’
‘Why wear a skirt that’s so short it doesn’t even cover –’
‘I have to go, Alan. I have things to do, OK?’
‘Your mum said that you’d been out for ages. She said that you hadn’t done any studying.’
‘She doesn’t know what I do,’ I retorted. ‘I studied for a couple of hours and then . . . Look, I’m going in. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow evening?’
‘Yes, I think so.’
‘What time?’
‘I don’t know, Alan. I don’t run my life to the clock.’
‘Shall we meet at seven? I’ll come to your house at seven and –’
‘For fuck’s sake, Alan,’ I screamed. I’d finally lost my temper, which was unlike me.
‘God, you’re in a mood,’ he complained. ‘I thought we were supposed to be going out together?’
‘Alan, I have tried to stay calm. Despite your persistence, I have tried to remain calm. I’m going in, OK?’
I walked up the path to my house, let myself in and breathed a sigh of relief as I closed the door quietly behind me. Alan was becoming a pain, I thought, as I crept up the stairs. Someone had sent me a vibrator, Ian had caught me in the park, and now Alan was pestering me. I didn’t need this mess, I thought, closing my bedroom door behind me.
I heard someone coming up the stairs and I knew that I was in for a lecture. I was about to grab my dressing gown to cover my sluttish clothes, but my mother walked in and stared at me.
‘Late again?’ she said, looking me up and down. ‘Why didn’t you say hello when you came in?’
‘I needed the loo,’ I said, clutching my dressing gown.
‘Ali, what’s going on?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘This is the second night you’ve come in late. Why are you wearing that ridiculous skirt? It’s so short that there’s little point in wearing it.’
‘It’s the fashion, mum,’ I sighed.
‘What’s that in your hair?’ She took hold of a tuft of my matted hair and frowned. ‘What on earth is it?’
‘It’s milk,’ I lied. ‘I was at a friend’s and we were messing about in the kitchen and –’
‘Ali, we need to talk,’ she cut in. ‘Someone came round asking for you this evening.’
‘Alan, yes, he –’
‘No, it wasn’t Alan. It was a middle-aged man. He said that he wanted to make an appointment to see you.’
‘Really?’ I said softly, trying to conceal my horror. ‘I wonder who he was?’
‘He didn’t say any more than that. I told him that you were out and he went away. Does it have something to do with you trying to trace your twin sister, if you have one?’
‘Oh . . . oh, yes.’ I sighed with relief. ‘I’ve been trying to trace her and –’
‘You should have told me, Ali. Have you discovered anything yet?’
‘No, not yet. What did the man look like?’
‘He was in his forties and had black hair. He was wearing a suit and tie. If I’d known what you were doing, I would have invited him in and . . . Mind you, he probably didn’t want to say anything to me about it because he didn’t know who I was.’
&nbs
p; ‘He’s from an agency. They try to put people in touch with each other and . . . well, I gave him my address.’
‘He left his phone number,’ she said, passing me a slip of paper.
‘Oh . . . er, right. Why didn’t you tell me before?’
‘I wanted to find out who he was first. You look tired, love. Why don’t you have a shower and then go to bed?’
‘Yes, I think I will. Thanks, mum.’
As she left my room and closed the door, I held my hand to my spinning head. Who the hell had called at the house? I wondered fearfully. Was it the man who’d sent me the vibrator? A middle-aged man in a suit and tie? Did he think that I was running a brothel? I grabbed my mobile phone from my bag and dialled the number. My hands trembling, my heart racing, I tried to calm down as I listened to the ringing tone.
‘Hello,’ a man said.
‘You left your number,’ I said.
‘Is that Ali?’ he asked me.
‘Yes, it is.’
‘I’ve been waiting for you to call. Did you use the vibrator?’
‘I’m sorry? What are you talking about?’
‘I sent you a package – didn’t you get it?’
‘Who are you? I think you’ve mixed me up with someone else.’
‘There’s no mix-up, Ali. I’ve been watching you.’
‘Watching me? I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘Wearing that short skirt, fucking a young lad in the woods, sucking a man’s cock in the park, meeting old men at that bungalow . . .’
I hung up and dropped the phone into my bag before flopping onto my bed. I was shaking, my heart was banging hard against my chest, as I recalled his words . . . sucking a man’s cock in the park, meeting old men at that bungalow . . . Who the hell was he? I wondered fearfully. More to the point, what did he want? John didn’t know about the man in the park, and I’d only just met Harry. Was it Barry? Or Don, perhaps? No, they wouldn’t play silly games like that. What if he called at my house again?
Six
GOD ONLY KNEW what time I’d finally got to sleep, but I woke with a start and sat bolt upright in my bed. I’d had bad dreams, nightmares . . . There was a note on my bedside table. Mum had gone shopping – she’d set my alarm for eight o’clock so I wouldn’t be late for work. I checked the time: ten to eight. My phone rang as I slipped out of bed. I grabbed my handbag from the floor and stared at my mobile. There was no number displayed.
‘Hello,’ I said softly.
‘Ali, it’s John.’
‘Thank God. I mean, how are you?’
‘Are you all right?’
‘You woke me up.’
‘Oh, sorry. I’ve contacted my other friend. There’ll be three of us this evening, if that’s all right with you?’
‘Oh, er . . . yes, yes, that’s fine.’
‘Sorry to have woken you.’
‘No, no . . . I have to get up now anyway. John, is there a back way to your bungalow? I don’t really want to be seen visiting you all the time.’
‘Yes, there’s an alleyway running behind all the back gardens. Go into the alley from Gloucester Road and mine’s the blue gate. I’ll leave it unlocked for you.’
‘OK, thanks. I’ll see you this evening.’
‘I’m looking forward to it.’
‘Me too. Bye, John.’
My hands trembled as I placed my phone on the bedside table and I wished that I’d told John that I couldn’t make it. But I couldn’t let him down, I thought. He’d arranged things with his friends and . . . I’d make sure that no one followed me, I decided. If I sneaked along the alley no one would see me. Taking a deep breath, I pulled myself together. I had a shower and then dressed in my knee-length skirt and a white blouse and tried to eat some toast and marmalade.
I had no idea where I was going as I left the house. I didn’t want my mother coming back to find that I wasn’t at work, so I had to go out. Keeping well away from the park, I wandered across the common and sat on a bench. It was a beautiful day. The sun shining, the birds singing, I shouldn’t have been plagued by worry, I thought dolefully. At eighteen years old I should have been enjoying life and having fun. What the hell was I going to do all day? I wondered. I had plenty of money with me, but nowhere to go.
‘Hello,’ I said, answering my phone when it rang unexpectedly.
‘Morning, Ali,’ a man breathed. ‘Did you use the vibrator last night?’
‘Who is this?’ I snapped.
‘It’s me, your anonymous friend. After you’d called me last night I did the dial-back and got your number.’
‘What do you want?’
‘Just a chat.’
‘I’m not in the mood for chatting. Please don’t call me again or I’ll –’
‘I enjoyed watching you masturbate by the stream the other day. That hair-removing cream worked well, didn’t it? I love a teenage girl with a hairless little pussy.’
‘Leave me alone,’ I said shakily. ‘I don’t know who you are and I don’t want to know.’
‘Meet me by the stream in half an hour and –’
I dropped the phone into my bag, held my hand to my head and sighed. What the hell was I going to do? I wondered anxiously. If I didn’t meet him he’d probably turn up at my house again. There again, if I did meet him . . . I was sure that it wasn’t any of the men I’d met recently. It must have been someone who’d seen me in the pub and followed me for some reason. They’d discovered that I was having sex with various men and realised that I was a prostitute. But why the mysterious phone call?
I left the common and walked to the park. I had to discover who this man was and what he wanted, and there was only one way to do that. I reached the park and hid behind some bushes rather than go into the woods and wait by the stream. I was bound to see the man, I thought as I looked around. He’d said half an hour, and I was a good twenty minutes early so I was safe enough.
After fifteen minutes, I began to think that the man must have already been in the woods. He was probably watching me, I mused as I headed for the trees. Thinking that he might have been an unsavoury character, I kept my eyes and ears open as I crept through the woods. I wanted to see him before he saw me so that I could sneak away if he looked weird or dangerous.
To my amazement, I saw a neighbour of mine walking his dog as I followed the narrow path through the trees. He didn’t have black hair, as my mother had said, but I thought it odd that he was there. His name was Derek and he was in his mid-forties. He lived in the house opposite and was a good friend of my father’s and I too knew him very well. Was he the one who’d seen me giving a man a blow job in the park? Had he followed me and seen me go into John’s bungalow? I hid in the bushes and watched him for a few minutes and finally decided that he was my man.
‘Hi,’ I said as I joined him on the path.
‘Hello, Ali,’ he said, turning and facing me. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Just walking,’ I replied.
‘Of course, you’re not at university at the moment.’
‘It’s the summer holiday. Are you waiting for someone?’
‘Waiting for someone?’ Derek frowned, as if it was an odd question. I suppose it was odd. ‘No, no. I’m just walking the dog,’ he replied. ‘I always come here.’
I reckoned that I’d made a mistake and wondered whether the other man was lurking somewhere nearby. ‘Quite a few people walk in the woods,’ I said. ‘Have you seen anyone else here?’
‘It’s funny you should say that. I bumped into Simon about fifteen minutes ago.’
‘Simon?’ I echoed.
‘Your next-door neighbour, the man from number twenty-five.’
‘Oh, right. What was he doing here?’
‘He just said that he couldn’t stay and went off.’
‘Oh, well,’ I said, smiling at Derek. ‘I’d better be going. Enjoy your walk.’
‘Yes, I will. You take care, Ali.’
‘I will
. Bye.’
I left the woods, feeling totally confused. My mother knew Simon, so he couldn’t have been the man who’d called at my house. The whole thing seemed very odd. Derek had been walking his dog, but what had Simon been doing in the woods? He was in his fifties, was married and had always seemed such a nice man. He certainly didn’t seem the sort to follow me around and send me a vibrator. There again, John and Harry looked like perfectly normal old men.
As I walked home, I hoped that my mother would still be out. If she was there I’d say that I had a couple of hours off work. I wasn’t going to knock on Simon’s door, but I thought that he might come out if he saw me sunbathing in the back garden. He was always pottering in his garden so the chances were that he’d be around. When I got to my house I went up to my room and changed into my bikini. That would lure him out of his house, I thought as my phone rang.
Ignoring my phone, I went into the back garden and lay on the sunbed. It was a beautiful day and I should have been enjoying the sun, but my mind was in turmoil. How could I keep my two separate lives apart with someone following me around and phoning me? I wondered. If it was Simon, then he’d obviously had no qualms about meeting me in the woods. Perhaps he wanted sex in return for his silence?
‘Hi, Ali,’ he called over the fence as if on cue. ‘Enjoying the weather?’
‘Yes, I am,’ I replied as I left the sunbed and walked over to the fence. ‘I have some time off work so I thought I’d try to get a tan.’
‘What sort of work do you do?’ Simon asked me, looking down at the cleavage of my firm breasts.
‘It’s secretarial work. It’s only part-time but the money is good.’
‘An attractive girl like you should be able to earn a fortune,’ he said, with a chuckle.
‘I don’t know how,’ I replied.
‘Don’t you?’
‘If I knew how, then I’d be doing it.’ I was sure now that Simon was my man. Although he couldn’t have been the one who’d called at my house. ‘Tell me how I could earn a fortune.’