There's nothing quite like buying a woman

“There’s nothing quite like buying a woman,” says my Asian engineer friend. When we were in college together, in Philthafuckingdelphia, he and all his 118 Chinese dork pounds, would ride his bike to Broad street where the skag black crack hoes hocked their flesh in mini skirts and tube tops. He’d pull up his bike, negotiate with some big black drugged out mamma—$40 for a covered blow job, $60, uncovered—and then they’d go into some ally where this fat black hooker would put a condom on my friend—he was not safety conscious, he was cheap—and there and then she’d suck his little Asian cock. The whole thing, from negotiation to ejaculation, probably took 20 minutes. He’d ride home and tell me about it, always with a bit of regret: “Should have splurged and given her $60.”

I remember the first woman I bought. She was a street walker; it was four in the morning, I was completely fucked up on an assortment of drugs and booze and driving my girlfriend’s beat up 1980 Honda Civic. I pull up and what I remember to be a nice looking young woman in a black dress but might as well have been a big black man sticks her head in the window: “$80 to come upstairs,” she says. Well, I know I’m not going upstairs so it’s not even worth asking which upstairs.

When I hesitate, she says she has a plan and, in a flash, is sitting next to me in the car. “Drive,” she says as she cranks up the heat because San Francisco is always—always—cold. She leans towards me and as she fondles my cock through my pants lets me know there’s something we could do in the car for $50. I follow her instructions to a parking lot. We park; I pay her; and she asks me to take it out. I do. She then proceeds to somehow, miraculously, get a condom on me with her mouth and begins sucking my cock like she was a goddamn nuclear powered vacuum cleaner. There was nothing even remotely erotic about it. I began laughing and then, tentatively, tapped her on the shoulder—her head was buried in my lap—and asked if we could, I dunno, talk. She sits up, saliva dripping from her mouth, her fingers firmly ensconced with my cock, and growls, “You want me to talk dirty to you?” I hesitate and, wham, back down she goes, sucking away. And, lo and behold, I cum.

Afterwards, she tells me I pushed her head down a bit when I came. She scolded me. This street walking whore who just sucked my cock off for $50 scolded me. There is no end to the humiliation.