The doorway was recessed far back into the disused building and no one was able to see them unless they came all the way down the alley. Pamela had never been disturbed here yet; then why would she? The building was disused.
Mike turned Pamela to face him and eased her back against the door; he pushed himself against her and tried to kiss her. She pushed him back and turned her face away from him.
"No lover; no kissing Ok? I don't do that with punters."
"What do I get for my sixty then?" Mike asked his face puffed up and reddening.
"You get oral relief, and if you want you can shag me Ok?" Pamela offered her standard services.
"Can I fuck you in the arse then?" her customer went on insistently.
"Look sweetie you can have what I just offered; if that's not to your liking take your money and fuck off; it's fucking cold and I'm tired!" Pamela laid down the law. What she didn't need was the last customer of the night to be a difficult bastard.
"You slags are all the same," Mike cursed; "you come on all dolled up to get a guy horny then you won't play the game properly. How can I shag you without a bit of a kiss and cuddle first hey?" Mike insisted, his voice getting angrier.
"Look I'm no slag and if you don't behave you'll get nothing ok?" Pamela had had enough.
"Alright, alright, give us a suck then sweetheart." Mike capitulated.
Thank fuck for that' though Pamela let's get this over with and get home to bed.'
Pamela dropped to her knees, placing them on an old cushion she had bought to the alley not long after she first established the doorway as her 'workroom'. She had laddered her stockings kneeling on the bare brick floor the first night she worked here. Her face was level with the punter's crotch and she reached up and unzipped his fly. Mike looked down at the overly made-up whore as her red fingernails slid down his zip and reached inside his trousers.
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