by Angela Blake
That beautiful face. How did it end up on the streets? I still needed to know the full story. I’d seen uglier models, and a face like that could get a job anywhere. It was somebody’s loss, but it was definitely my gain for tonight. I heard the shower stop, and the blood started flowing to my cock gradually in anticipation. I poured myself a glass of wine and took a few sips in order to stop that slightly nauseous feeling you get after you’ve stopped drinking alcohol for a while.
I opened the door to the spare bedroom and there she was, towel wrapped around her, facing away from me. She turned around in an instant, in shock, almost as if I was a brother that had just walked in on her at home, but as soon as she turned around she seemed to realise that there was no need to be shocked; she must have been expecting this.
She had partially dried her long blonde hair and it fell back to just past her shoulders, just creeping over the towel that was covering her breasts and went all the way down to her knees.
“Take off the towel,” I said, and the command turned me on. I was in control, and I loved it.
She paused momentarily, almost as if to wonder if the better option was to pick up her clothes and get back onto the streets, but it clearly wasn’t. She unhooked the fold where she had tucked it in and let the towel fall to the floor, and stood there before me with her naked body.
It was pretty much a blank canvas, which made it all the more thrilling. It had been a while since I has sex with someone who wasn’t dressed up with make-up and the rest; this was real, and a little bit too real. There were no painted toes and nails, no finely trimmed eyebrows, and clearly no finely trimmed pubic hair. There were a few bruises on her body, nothing too severe, but there was only so much that the shower could wash off.
Her breasts were perfect, for me anyway: they were a beautiful handful that fit in with the rest of her slender figure. A gentle curve of her sides leading down over her hips. I approached her so I could get a touch, and noticed she smelt of nothing. I had plain soap and shampoo in the guest bedroom and the fresh smell of nothing almost felt like the finest perfume compared to what she'd previously smelt like. She seemed nervous, but that was natural; neither of us had ever done anything like this before, but only one of us was in control.
I went in for the kiss, but it wasn’t exactly the most romantic of moments. We didn’t have the freshest of breath and it was just a tentative one as both of us seemed unsure as to what we should be doing. She just stood there waiting to be used, not taking the lead.
Usually the women I was with were a lot more vivacious, but it didn’t seem like she knew what to do. I ran my left hand through the back of her hair and kissed her neck, hoping that she’d soon relax. My right hand was placed on the arch of her curve and when I brought my index finger around from the opening of her pussy and drew it all the way up to her clit, taking the wetness with it so I could give it a gentle massage, she finally let out a slight moan.
We were by the end of the bed and I sat down on it. “Get on your knees,” I said, commanding her to take her next action, which she seemed more than willing to do. It was fairly obvious what I was going to ask her to do next and she didn’t need any further prompts. She unbuckled my belt and undid the zip of my jeans, before drawing them and my underwear down to my ankles. I removed my top myself and threw it to the side of the room, and kicked my jeans in the same direction.
Here we were, two naked people. From the face of it this was a blank canvas, you couldn’t see who was rich and who was poor. On closer inspection, however, it would have been fairly obvious. Picking up this homeless girl was still a turn on, but the lack of cleanliness wasn’t. Her skin was too cold to touch. It was nice and warm in the room but it was as though her body was coming out of a deep thaw.
She looked at me with those beautiful eyes, almost as if she was going to ask for approval to put my cock in her mouth. She was hesitant to do anything. I wasn’t going to stop her so she went ahead, tentatively. She placed her hand around the base of my cock and slowly moved her mouth over the tip. Her skin may have been cold but the warmth of her mouth gave me a wave of pleasure throughout my body. She was slowly getting into it, but wouldn’t do much without direction, which was quite fun. “Lick it,” I said, and she duly obliged, taking her tongue from the base to the tip and back down again.
I wanted to be a little rough, but I thought anything too extreme may scare her. I grabbed the back of her hair to control the tempo of her mouth over my shaft and she seemed to enjoy it. I could have carried on happily like that until I came, but I was looking forward to fucking her.
“When was the last time you had sex?” I asked, a question that I probably should have asked earlier, but the answer was both welcome and surprising.
“Not for a few years,” she said.
I was enjoying the risqué nature of our liaison, but wanted to make sure I was safe from any diseases she may have picked up on the street; clearly I had no need to worry. No wonder she was so tentative, I thought, she could have only been in her early 20’s at the most, and she’s not had sex in a few years. It was a puzzle, but one I’d solve another time.
“Get up,” I commanded while I remained sat at the edge of the bed. My head was level with her lower torso and it gave me a close up look at her body.
“Turn around.”
I wanted to see her bare cheeks in front of me and I wasn’t disappointed, as it was exactly what I was expecting. A beautifully round, tight ass. I thought I’d give it a little bit of a slap to test the waters, and I spanked it with a firm palm, but nowhere close to full force. She let out a slight moan, which pleased me. It’s always more enjoyable when the second party is enjoying it. I had been slightly turned off by her earlier reluctance, but she seemed to be warming up.
“Lay down on the bed,” I said, issuing my next command.
“On my front or back?” Now I was starting to get even more turned on. She felt like my little play thing that I could do as I pleased to. If it wasn’t for the alcohol, I may have brought some of my toys into the equation, but I was looking for a hot, quick fuck.
“On your back,” I said.
She went and climbed onto the bed and looked a picture of beauty, especially with the city in the background. I kept getting glimpses of her perfection. This time it was in the reflection of the window, and I felt like I was a very lucky man getting this for free. She lay down there, waiting for my next move. I climbed over her and spread her legs apart.
The tip of my penis was hovering around her pussy as I got in close. We shared a moment of eye contact. She looked relaxed.
When I originally turned around on the street to make a deal, I thought this would be a hard and quick fuck with no emotion, but it was turning out to be quite the opposite. She also made a move for the first time in the love making.
She grabbed my cock in order to direct it into her pussy, before letting go when she knew it was positioned in the right spot. I gently pushed forward. At this moment I looked at her and she was looking straight back at me, sharing a moment. We continued with the eye contact as I pushed further. She was wet, but very tight, until with a little more pressure my cock slid into her pussy. She let out a moan and a big exhale of breath. I grabbed the base of her back for leverage as I pushed in my hips, making my cock go as deep as possible. She put her hands on my side as I worked up the momentum of my thrusts, as the friction between us eased and it became easier and easier.
It didn’t take long for the rhythm of the thrusts to be constant and fast. She seemed to be losing control of herself and her emotions; she was moaning louder and louder, but seemed to be fighting it.
“Don’t worry, no-one can hear.”
I said that as I got the impression that she wasn’t sure she should let herself go with the emotions, or whether it was acceptable to. I loved the fun I was having with her. I’d forgotten who she was, and I’m sure it must have been the same for her. In the moment it felt like this wasn’t a girl picked up off the st
reet, and it felt a lot better than if she was a gold-digger picked up from a club—this felt real.
“Turn around,” I said.
I positioned her body into doggy-style and swiftly guided my cock into her pussy. She seemed to like this new instruction as her moans were growing louder and louder. My thrusts became hard and fast. The window in front almost acted like a mirror, which only added to the experience. I could see her face full of pleasure, eyes closed and in the moment.
In a moment of passion I grabbed the back of her hair as she arched her back, showing a great view of those perfect breasts in the reflection. The volume of her moans increased when I pulled her hair. I was reaching the moment of climax and put my hands back on her hips in order to maintain control. I pushed in for one last thrust as I reached orgasm. It felt like I had not cum that much in a long, long time.
Without saying a word I climbed off the bed, grabbed my clothes and left the room. I was euphoric and had never been turned on more in my life. As soon as the adrenalin left me, the tiredness hit and I headed for my bed. Happy with how my little fantasy had played out.
Sophie
I was bewildered, and for a moment I thought I had died. I woke up in the white linen bedsheet naked and warm, with the sunlight shining through the window, its rays bouncing off everything in the room. My eyes hadn’t adjusted yet so all I saw was this bright, white light around me. I was expecting to wake up in a horrible stench, in worn-down clothes, damp and cold from sleeping on the streets. This was surreal.
All I had was my old clothes on the radiator, so I looked around the room for anything else to wear, but it was all empty. I couldn’t bring myself to put on my old clothes yet, so I decided to venture out into the apartment. It was only in the cold light of day that I could truly appreciate this apartment for what it was. Everything was bespoke and nothing was out of place. It almost looked unused, like a showroom that you’d see in a shop.
I walked over to the huge main window that overlooked the city as I had done the night before, and it looked as beautiful in the morning as it did at night. I could have stayed there all day and I was hoping that George would stay asleep for as long as possible, so I didn’t have to face reality any sooner than necessary. It was a Saturday morning and by the look of the place, I very much doubted he was a man who had to work weekends. I knew he probably wouldn’t want me around, and I wondered if it would be a good idea to wake him up with a bit of morning sex, or a bad idea. I decided to err on the side of caution.
I’d enjoyed last night, maybe a little too much. Without much experience I was new to all this, but thought that maybe he’d like a repeat in return for another night’s stay—how long could that last, though? I suddenly felt like I’d turned into a whore, but was this really that bad? Surely selling your body is a lot better than subjecting it to the harshness of the streets? I was conflicted, but all I knew at that point was that I’d enjoyed the night a lot more than I would have done out in the cold, and I’d be more than happy to do it again.
George
I woke up in a daze, and wondered why I’d had a weird dream about picking up a homeless girl on the way home, fucking her and letting her stay in my apartment. Just as sometimes it takes you a while to realise that your dream wasn’t reality, this time it took me a while to realise that the reality wasn’t a dream. My head was a little bit sore from the night before, but nothing a couple of painkillers couldn’t solve. Hopefully the girl had cleared out of the flat, I thought, and hopefully she’s not stolen anything in the process.
When I opened my bedroom door I was greeted with both a pleasant and unpleasant sight. Pleasant as there was a naked girl stood before me with her beautiful figure and gorgeous face, but unpleasant as I had hoped that she would have gone by now. She was clearly looking for more charity.
“Why are you still here?” I asked firmly. I had got rather good at clearing women out of my apartment in the early mornings. The building had a security team who could help in times of trouble and my go-to card was to always threaten to call them, and the threat was always enough. I never give the impression that I’m in this for anything more than a one-night stand, but I think a lot of them see the wealth and wish for something more.
“I just wondered if..."
“Well you wondered wrong” I said as I cut her off, because whatever she was wondering was wrong. I had a day ahead planned with my friends and didn’t want anything holding me up. Usually I found situations like this a little awkward, but I felt in control. I sensed her desperation and it turned me on.
“I’ll give you five minutes to get your clothes and get out of my apartment.”
She looked distressed, but she got the message. She quickly scuttled back into the bedroom to get her clothes. She came out of the room looking decidedly less pleasant. It was back to the flat shoes, sweatpants and coat. At least they were dry, that was something, and it was a much nicer day. A part of me did feel sorry for her, but a bigger part of me thought that I had no responsibility to her. I gave her one comfortable night at least.
“We can do the same again tonight,” she said with more than a hint of desperation in her voice.
I’d heard desperation before, actually, most times. The kind of girls I usually sleep with are desperate for my money and don’t want to leave, as they thought they had found their sugar daddy to take care of them. That wasn’t me, I didn’t care about having a pretty girl around my arm for social occasions—I couldn’t stand those types of women, and they were only good for one thing.
This was a different type of desperation, one that wasn’t about the money, it was just about having a place to stay. I thought momentarily about putting her up in a hotel for a few nights—the money meant nothing to me, but then I worried about her becoming clingy and asking for more and more charity, so I thought I’d put a stop to that before it even started.
“It was just a one-night thing. I hope you find a place to stay tonight.”
I walked over to the door to insinuate that this was her time to leave, and she reluctantly followed.
“But George, I’ll do anything.”
Now I felt sorry for her. From my brief time with her, I had gathered that his was not her. She’d found a nice place to stay and she didn’t deserve to be on the streets. I got that, but there are many more like her. It did intrigue me as to what she meant by “anything” however, and I was going to ask but she was by the door and I just wanted the situation to end.
“I don’t want anything. It’s time you left, Sophie.”
She paused for a moment, but finally left. Allowing me to continue my day.
Sophie
The door shutting behind me was one of the worst sounds I’ve ever heard. It felt like the opposite of that infamous sound that prisoners hear when they first go to jail, the turning of the key and the locking of the door. But while prisoners were locked in somewhere, I’d just been locked out. While they craved their freedom, I was terrified of mine. As I made my way to the elevator the thought did cross my mind, would I be happier in jail? What crime could you commit that could get you a couple of weeks in jail?
Things could never be that desperate, surely things could never be that desperate. Just as the elevator doors were about to close, I heard the rush of someone moving to keep them open. For a moment my heart fluttered—maybe this was George coming to rescue me? But no, I was swiftly disappointed and immediately left in a state of anxiety as here I was in a posh apartment complex, looking a mess and in horrible clothes. I tried to look away. My body had felt wonderful from the shower, but as soon as it touched my old clothes it felt grimy and dirty again.
I couldn’t wait to get out of the building. I’d rather be anonymous in the streets than looked down upon in the building. At least George let me take some food, but it was back to planning how I was going to get myself off these streets. I’d save up the coins I’d get from begging and spend them on basic food items. I had a bank account, and any pounds I received,
I saved up to cash them in. I was up to about £20, but I didn’t know what I was going to use it for. Maybe to buy some nice clothes in case I ever got a job interview. I used the internet at the local library to look for jobs and try and find a way out of my situation. The lack of an address was usually a stumbling block. I had a phone to get any calls, but I couldn’t charge it much and it had no credit.
There were people I encountered each day that seemed to be either happy or content with being homeless, that wasn’t me, I wanted to be out of this situation as soon as possible. I couldn’t go back to my old life, however—anything but that. The days were fine, I could stroll about town, go to the library and pretty much forget that I had no home to go to. It was the nights where reality hit, and I’d yet to find a good place to stay. I’d been kicked out of a few places by other homeless people, almost as if I’d encroached into their personal space; it was this whole other world where people had their own little spots in which to live. Staying dry is hard, staying warm is even harder. It was a daily challenge and one that I hated, and one where you’d wake up knowing that you’d have to do exactly the same thing again the next night.
George
Why was I thinking about her? The sex was good, but I tried to keep the conversation to a minimum in order to make sure I didn’t get into her story. I just wanted to fulfil my own fantasy. I was spending the day at the horse races, but my mind was a little pre-occupied. Ones of my friends asked if I was okay, so it was clearly showing on my face. I wondered where she was, if she was hungry... if she was safe. These were dangerous thoughts, and I decided to try and get rid of them by getting another drink and having a bet.
£500 on each race, small change. It wasn’t my lucky day either, £3,000 down by the end of it. Enough money to book a budget hotel for a couple of months. But, I had fun and didn’t have to think about anything else. I loved the single life. Go out, do what I want and not have to worry about anything else. I worked hard all by myself to earn the money I did, and wasn’t going to give it to anyone else.