by Ray Gordon
Looking up as someone walked into the club, she found herself gazing wide-eyed at Rod and Deborah. Her hands trembling as they went up to the bar, she thanked God that Charles had left. Rod was ordering the drinks and Deborah began chatting to someone, and Sheena wondered whether to slip away before she was noticed. As Rod turned and looked around the club, he caught sight of Sheena and almost choked on his drink. Nodding towards the door as if indicating for her to leave, he turned and faced Deborah as she spoke to him.
This could be fun, Sheena thought, deciding to stay. Looking Deborah up and down, she imagined her in Sam’s studio with his cock embedded deep within her mouth. If only Rod knew, she mused dolefully as he walked across the club to the toilets. Perhaps the time had come to show him the evidence of his future’s wife’s whoredom. Her phone rang, and she knew that it was him as she answered the call.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he asked her.
‘I’m a member of the club,’ she returned. ‘I’m allowed to come here for a drink.’
‘Look, Sheena . . . Go now and I’ll ring you later, OK?’
‘Rod, I don’t want to go. I’m not going back to my poxy bedsit just because you’ve brought your whore here.’
‘She’s not a whore.’
‘Isn’t she?’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘She’s into porn photos, Rod.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, she’s the biggest prude going.’
‘She’s a slut, Rod. And I have a photograph, here in my handbag.’
‘Sheena, I don’t know what your game is, but I don’t like it.’
‘It’s not a game.’
‘You promised me that you wouldn’t cause trouble, and now you’re going on about photographs and . . .’
‘Come over to my table. I’ll show you a photograph of your innocent little Deborah with a fucking great cock stuck in her mouth.’
As he hung up, Sheena bit her lip. She shouldn’t have mentioned the photo, she reflected as Rod walked back to the bar. Repeatedly glancing in her direction and making odd facial expressions, he seemed to be very angry. Sheena sipped her vodka slowly while Rod downed at least three drinks. He obviously wanted to talk to her, and his opportunity came when Deborah went to the ladies’.
‘What are you playing at?’ he hissed through gritted teeth as he approached her table. ‘What’s this photograph you have?’
Sheena held up the photograph. ‘This,’ she whispered. ‘It’s one of many filthy pictures of that slut.’
‘Where the hell . . .’ he began, staring open-mouthed at the photo. ‘Where did you get that?’
‘She’s after your money, Rod. That’s the only reason she’s marrying you.’
‘She’s got money. Her father’s loaded.’
‘She wants her own money so she can set up in business with a photographer.’ Sheena stuffed the photo back into her bag. ‘She’s using you, Rod.’
‘I – I don’t know what to say. Where did you get that?’
‘It don’t matter where.’
‘We need to talk. I’ll get rid of her, OK?’
‘OK.’
As he dashed back to the bar, Sheena reckoned she’d done the right thing. Even if she didn’t end up marrying him, at least that bitch wouldn’t become his wife. Charles wanted to see the back of Deborah, and now Rod would dump her. Sheena had done the family a favour, she realised as Deborah joined Rod at the bar. No matter what happened, the family would be better off without the slut. And with her out of the way, the door would be wide open for Sheena.
After several more drinks, Rod and Deborah seemed to be arguing. Sheena bought herself another vodka and tonic and waited patiently at her table as the unhappy couple left the club. Rod would be back, she was sure of that. He’d probably dump Deborah off at her house and then come back to the club. Sheena downed several vodkas and made her plans as she waited. But after an hour, she began to wonder whether she’d been wrong. Maybe Rod wasn’t going to come back. Had he told Deborah about the photograph? Had the woman lied her way out of trouble? Her phone rang. Sheena didn’t get a chance to say anything as Rod ordered her to meet him outside the club. He sounded really angry, she thought as she grabbed her bag and left.
‘Are you OK?’ she asked him as she sat next to him in his car.
‘Where did you get that photograph from?’ he asked her as he drove off.
‘A friend,’ she replied. ‘I happen to know someone who knows Deborah. We got talking and . . .’
‘Who is this friend?’
‘No one you know, Rod. She was at university with Deborah and . . .’
‘What’s all this about Deborah going into business with someone?’
‘That’s what my friend told me.’
‘I knew you’d be trouble,’ he sighed.
‘Don’t blame me,’ Sheena returned angrily. ‘Blame that slut of yours. If anything, you should be thanking me for saving you from that money-grabbing slut.’
‘I’m not blaming you, Sheena. It’s just that ever since you came on the scene there’s been trouble. The phone call from some girl telling Deborah that she’s having my baby, Charles has been dropping hints, and now you present me with that bloody photograph.’
‘Did you ask Deborah about it? I could see that you were arguing.’
‘We were arguing about something else.’ Pulling up outside Sheena’s bedsit, he sighed. ‘I can’t see you again,’ he announced.
‘Why not? What the fuck have I done wrong?’
‘I can’t explain, Sheena. I’m marrying Deborah and . . .’
‘Rod, I – I love you,’ she whimpered.
‘Don’t be daft. Look, the meal at the restaurant was a mistake. Getting you membership for the club was a mistake and . . .’
‘So, getting to know me was a mistake? I thought we had something?’
‘We had sex, Sheena. That’s all it was, I told you that from the start.’
Sheena left the car, and walked the short distance to the pub. Hoping that Nat wasn’t there as she pushed the door open, she ordered a large vodka and tonic and sat at a corner table. Fortunately there was no sign of Nat, and Tommy wasn’t there either. This had been the worst evening of her life, she thought sadly as she sipped her drink. Her plans were in ruins. She couldn’t understand why Rod had dumped her. Would he stay with Deborah even though he knew that she was a slut? All she needed now was for Charles to dump her too. But she wasn’t going to allow that to happen. This was just a minor setback, she tried to convince herself. She’d get Rod, if it was the last thing she did.
Five
Woken by the phone the following morning, Sheena hoped that Rod had changed his mind and wanted to see her. By the time she’d leaped out of bed and grabbed her handbag, the phone had stopped ringing and there was no number left so she couldn’t call back. After a shower, she dressed in her miniskirt and blouse and decided to go out for breakfast. Things wouldn’t be easy now that she’d lost Rod’s financial contributions, but she couldn’t spend another minute cooped up in her small room.
Her phone rang as she was about to leave. She felt her stomach churning. ‘Hello,’ she said, hoping that it was Rod.
‘Sheena,’ Charles said. ‘What are you doing today?’
‘Er . . . Nothing, I suppose.’
‘I should have said, what are you doing tonight?’
‘I’m not doing nothing. Why?’
‘Fancy a night in a hotel with me? I have business in London tomorrow morning and I’m staying in a hotel tonight, if you’re interested?’
‘Wow, yes, I’m very interested.’
‘OK, I’ll pick you up outside the library at six.’
‘Yes, yes, I’ll be there. Thanks, Charles.’
‘No problem. By the way, there’s been a huge bust-up between Rod and Deborah. God knows how, but he’s discovered that she’s been doing porn pics.’
‘Really? So, is the wedding off?’
‘
Everything’s off. I’ll tell you more this evening.’
‘OK, I’ll see you later.’
Dropping her phone into her handbag and punching the air with her fist, she reckoned that there was a real chance of getting Rod back now that Deborah was out of the way. A night in a hotel with Charles would be great, she thought happily, but it was Rod that she really wanted. Sleeping with Charles was a means to an end, she decided as she pulled her tatty suitcase out from beneath the bed. If she kept in contact with Charles, then she’d get updates on Rod. As she packed her new black dress and some clean underwear, a knock sounded on the door.
‘Rod?’ she breathed, opening the door to find him hovering in the hallway. ‘Er . . . Come in.’
‘Are you going away?’ he asked, eyeing the suitcase on the bed as he walked into the room.
‘Well, I – I’m just sorting out some clothes. It’s really nice to see you.’
‘Sheena, I’m sorry about all this. You’re a lovely girl and . . . Well, I just came round to say that I’m sorry.’
‘Oh, I thought . . . So, you’ve finished with me then?’
‘I have no choice. I’m marrying Deborah and that’s that. I spoke to her about the photograph and she admitted that she did some porn pics when she was at university. That was years ago so . . .’
‘Since when was last week years ago?’
‘Last week?’ he echoed, frowning at her.
‘Rod, that picture was taken last week. There are dozens more like it, and worse.’
‘No, no, you’re wrong.’
‘Sam, the photographer, took them. He’s the man she was at university with and he’s the man she’s going into business with.’
‘I don’t believe you, Sheena.’
‘I’m a common slut, Rod.’
‘And?’
‘I hang out in rough bars and I get fucked against walls in dark alleyways. I’m in with the pond life, and I know what’s going down. You with your money and your big house and posh friends . . . You don’t know what goes on. You don’t know what Deborah gets up to with Sam or anyone else.’
‘Where is this Sam? Where can I find him?’
‘I’m not getting involved, Rod. You go off and marry your two-timing slut and learn for yourself.’
‘Sheena, I need to know whether this is all true. If it is, I’ll dump her.’
‘The way you dumped me?’
‘No, I mean . . . Look, I really want to see you. If this is true, I’ll dump Deborah for you.’
‘Rod, I might be a common blonde slut, but I’m not totally thick. I’d be your tart on the side until another posh woman comes along who suits your father and then you’d marry her and I’d be . . .’
‘OK, if you don’t want me . . .’
‘You have to prove that you want me, Rod. Prove that you want me, and I’ll be yours. Marry me.’
‘Marry you?’ He shook his head and laughed. ‘Sheena, what the hell would my family say if I took you home and announced that we were to be married? You’re great fun and really horny, but . . .’
‘But I’m a common slut. Get out, Rod. Fuck off back to your other slut.’
‘Sheena, I . . .’
‘There’s one thing you’ll discover in time, and that’s that Deborah is a common slut. In fact, there are two things. The other thing you’ll realise is that I’m an honest slut. I would never treat you the way she has.’
‘Sheena . . .’
‘Get out, Rod.’
A tear rolling down her cheek as he left the room and closed the door, she recalled the meal they’d had in the restaurant. It had been a wonderful evening, and she’d hoped for many more. ‘I’m not fucking good enough,’ she sighed, kicking the suitcase off the bed before leaving the room. She walked down the street, heading for the park, where she sat on a bench beneath the summer sun. Her arms folded, she stared at the ground as she fumed in silence. What was it about Deborah? What did the slut have that Sheena didn’t? Money and a posh voice? The woman wasn’t exactly stunning, and she was a porn slut, so what was it about her that attracted Rod like a magnet?
Nat had been right. Once a slut, always a slut. Why would a rich and successful man like Rod want to marry a teenage whore like Sheena? It wasn’t that he’d used her for sex; she was used to taking money from men in return for opening her legs. Stupidly, she’d thought that she meant more to Rod than a quick fuck. He hadn’t led her on, she reflected. He’d said from the start that there could be no future. Was she in love? She’d never been in love before and had no idea how it felt. But judging by the way she felt now, she reckoned she was.
‘All alone?’ a middle-aged man asked her as he approached the bench.
‘Looks like it,’ she returned.
‘Mind if I join you?’
‘Please yourself.’
‘You don’t seem too happy.’
‘Don’t I?’
‘Want to talk about it?’
‘Not really,’ she sighed, unfolding her arms. ‘Why does life fucking stink?’
‘Life is what you make it. I’m Danny, by the way.’
‘And I’m Sheena. I suppose you’re looking for a slut?’
‘Well, I . . .’
‘It’s OK, you don’t have to lie to me.’
‘I’ve been wandering around town looking for a girl. They’re thin on the ground these days.’
‘So why did you come up to me?’
‘You look the type. Sorry, I mean . . .’
‘I know what you mean, so don’t apologise.’
‘Are you . . . What I mean is, are you on the game?
‘What do you want and how much are you willing to pay?’
‘I’d like to strip you naked, for a start. You see, my wife is . . .’
‘You don’t have to explain,’ Sheena cut in, leaving the bench. ‘There’s a nice spot in the bushes over there. I’ve been there many times and it’s quite safe, we won’t be disturbed. Fifty quid, up front.’
He passed her the cash and followed her across the park, eyeing the backs of her naked legs as she walked towards the bushes. Sheena discreetly slipped the cash into the bushes as she entered the small clearing. She was an old hand at entertaining men, and she knew from experience that there was a chance that he’d take the money back once he’d used her. Turning to face him, she wondered what he’d think of her bald sex lips. Most men preferred a hairless pussy, she reflected as he unbuttoned her blouse.
Grinning, he opened her blouse and slipped it off her shoulders, then unhooked her bra and pulled it away from the petite mounds of her firm breasts. Her nipples rising, standing proud from the darkening discs of her areolae in the relatively cool air in the shaded clearing, she felt her clitoris swell and her juices of lust flow into her tight knickers. Poor old sod, she thought as he squeezed each firm breast in turn. All he wanted was a teenage slut to bring back memories of his youth, and he had to pay for it.
She wondered what he’d been about to say about his wife as he leaned over and sucked an erect nipple into his hot mouth. Was it that she didn’t understand him? That was the usual story. Assuming that the flame of passion must burn low after years of marriage, she thought of Rod. He was having to turn to a teenage slut for sex even before he was married. What the hell would it be like for him when Deborah was his wife?
Looking down at the man’s balding head as he knelt before her and tugged her skirt down, she knew that there were a lot of lonely men walking the streets looking for teenage sluts. Realising that this was the only way she could ever earn decent money, she wondered whether she should forget about Rod and Charles and their family. She’d only ever dabbled in prostitution, making a few pounds here and there, and now she wondered whether to go into business properly. She could earn money from porn photos, build up a list of paying clients and possibly rent a decent flat. Would she ever have a beautiful fitted kitchen and drive a Porsche? she wondered as the man pulled her knickers down to her ankles.
‘God,’
he breathed, focussing on the bald lips of her teenage pussy, her sex slit tightly closed, as she stepped out of her skirt and knickers. ‘You’ve shaved.’
‘Do you like it?’ she asked him as he stroked each smooth lip in turn.
‘Yes, yes, I do. I often fantasise about the girl who lives over the road from me. I imagine her hairless little slit and . . .’
‘What’s her name?’
‘Kirsty.’
‘OK, I’ll be Kirsty. Imagine that I’m Kirsty and you have me here in the bushes. You can do anything you want to me.’
He moved forward, trembling as he kissed the gentle rise of her smooth mons and breathed in the scent of her young body. His cock would be as hard as rock, she thought as he ran his wet tongue up and down the tight crack of her hairless pussy. Parting the fleshy pads of her outer lips, he breathed heavily as he lapped up the hot milk flowing from her open vaginal entrance. Sheena felt her young womb contract as his wet tongue swept over the solid protrusion of her sensitive clitoris, and she realised how desperately she needed an orgasm.
‘You’ve been a naughty little girl, Kirsty,’ the man whispered. ‘You’ve been playing with your pussy, haven’t you?’
‘I put my finger in it,’ Sheena said, playing out his fantasy. ‘I fingered my tight little cunt.’
‘Did you rub your clitty?’
‘I rubbed it hard and I had a big orgasm.’
‘That’s very naughty, Kirsty. I’m going to have to punish you.’
‘What will you do to me?’
‘I want you to do a little pee for me. I want to see it running down your legs and splashing on your feet.’
Grinning as she squeezed her muscles, she watched her golden liquid rain down over his face. He was an old pervert, she thought as he pressed his mouth hard against her open hole and drank from her young body. But he was paying for the pleasure, so she was happy to comply with his every perverted whim. Her golden flow finally stopping, he parted her puffy lips wide and slipped his tongue deep into her sex hole to lick the creamy walls of her tight vagina.