101 EROTICA STORIES (164 page)

It was 10 p.m., the streets were getting lesser with people, and lesser still with lights, as they flicker on and off, unable to sustain what they’re supposed to do. The damp alley in the corner of 5
^th
and Alevar Avenue was filled with spit and garbage, with some few unmentionables. Deeper in the alley you could see a shadow of a man who motioning with his hands, grabbing his crotch, in front of a barely dressed whore who was kneeling before him. The whore took down the zipper of the man, whose gray hair was still noticeable even in the darkness, and whose balding head had a look of a depressed hippo. When the zipper went all the way down, so was the bra barely hanging from the woman. Her big, tight breasts was revealed in the pale moon light, nipples standing high, areola all big and dark. The woman grabbed for her panties, and started pleasuring herself as she reveals under the pale moon light the respectable cock of the man standing in front of her. And so there, she removed her panties, still kneeling down, sucking the cock of that balding man, slowly at first, and then, swallowing inch by inch the shaft of that respectable cock. She started going for the man’s balls, as the latter cringed with excitement and tickled with glee. The woman started touching those under the belt lips of hers, and tried, desperately, to get some exciting sensation out of fingering herself. She wasn’t successful, but her mouth was, as the man shouted for quite a while, preparing to unload on her face like there’s no tomorrow. Finally, ecstatic explosion by the balding man, his cum creating quite a scene on the poor whore’s face, while it dripped down on the big breasts under the pale moon light.

This was Salvation Alley, where any poor and sad sod, like Mr. balding man with the respectable cock go and find 5 minutes of momentary bliss by perverting themselves with what Salvation Alley is most known for: the whores. And this is where we see Sally, the poor whore who’s still cleaning cum all over her face, and who had just stood up while she picked up her bra to put it back on.

“Thank you. Sorry it was quite quick”, said the balding man who was fixing his pants up.

“No problem. I’m used to it”, quickly replied Sally, who spit a little bit of cum left in her mouth.

“What??”, then replied the suddenly angry old man, his hands shaking and then pointing at Sally’s face.

“What’s your problem? You said sorry, right?, then quipped Sally, now putting the jacket she momentarily put on top of one of the old boxes surrounding them.

“Fuck you, bitch!” then shouted the man, who raised his hands, about to slap Sally when he added:

“I may be old you fucking whore, but I’m fucking good! You hear me!” as the old man proceeded to slap with his back hand that poor face of Sally. This went on for a few seconds, until her face was flushed red and blue from the repeated respect-less slaps of the old man.

Finally, when the old man was satisfied, and when Sally fell down on the dirt-filled floor of Salvation alley, the bastard old man threw a 100 dollar bill in Sally’s face, fixed his turncoat and his hat just enough for people not to see his face well, and left that God-forsaken place.

This was a common scene in Salvation Alley. Aside from the fact that it’s a magnet for perverts who wish to have a good time, it’s also apparently a magnet for old men who failed so much in their lives that they want to come here and feel dominant. This was what just happened. An old man trying to feel all high and mighty by physically abusing a helpless whore in the dark where no one can see them but the pale moon light.

Sally went home that night, now her face blue from the slapping. A middle aged man, balding like the last one, but fat as hell, was waiting for her in front of her shoddy apartment just a few blocks away from Salvation Alley.

“Pay up, whore”, suddenly said the man upon seeing Sally.

“Would this Benjamin help”, said Sally, as she flaunted the 100 dollar bill she had just earned by sucking cock and being slapped around like a toy.

“This ain’t enough, bitch!” then shouted the man, who is obviously Sally’s landlord.

“Listen, I’ll pay you what’s left in 3 days, I got something coming up”, responded Sally, whose voice turned to simple desperation.

“Fuck you, bitch! I need the money now!”, told the now angry man, holding a tight grip on Sally’s shoulder.

Sally was grimacing from the pain, and the bald fat man was putting her against the door of her apartment.

“You know”, said the man, “even though you’re a whore you are one fucking pretty bitch”.

The man tried to kiss Sally, and she tried to avoid it, if only a moment. But when she did, the man suddenly slapped her already abused face, and suddenly whispered in her ear:

“I’m gonna fuck ya tonight, bitch. And then we’ll talk about that 3 days.”

Salvation Alley has a way of sticking with the people who folly there, as Sally was forced to invite the man inside her shoddy and poorly kept apartment. The man pushed Sally immediately to her bed, which wasn’t far away from the door. The man then closed said door, and proceeded to unhinge his belt. He had a hard time looking for the belt buckle that was squarely tucked in between his crotch and his big fat belly.

Sally was tired, her face hot from the slapping she took all night, but she had no choice. She just looked at the man who was starting to undress in front of her. Her eyes looked with an emptiness of a woman who seemed like every soul was taken away from her. The pale moon light reflected well on her eyes though, and the little space of light protruding from a small hole in the wall showed how much beautiful her eyes were. The man in front of her, however, didn’t mind that one bit. He was busy being horny and releasing his not-so-respectable cock, which he successfully did after successfully unbuckling his hard to find belt and pulling his pants immediately.

Sally just laid there, and didn’t care in the world what the man was doing to her. He stripped Sally clean, first her jacket, then her thin shirt, and her bra, which then revealed her plump breasts once more. The man then proceeded to almost rip open her panties, which revealed a less-than-excited vagina. And he began, he started to put himself on top of Sally, and tried to fuck her, but his big fat bastardly belly prevented his not-so-respectable cock from going inside that not-so-excited vagina of Sally. So the man pulled Sally’s poor figure to the side of the bed and where he can fuck her standing up, and Sally, just lying there at the side of the bed doing nothing. The man put his penis, pushed harder than most men do, and he was at least successful in putting it in and out for about a minute before he removed it and spilled cum on Sally, still unmindful, with that empty eyes looking at her landlord’s dirty face, and her face still expressionless except for grimaces of pain during that one minute ordeal.

“3 days, bitch”, the fat puffing man said as he fixed himself and quickly left the shoddy apartment.

Sally laid there until the man left, and didn’t look at him as he was saying those words. After a few minutes, she had to muster herself to at least wear some decent clothes for her to sleep in, and so she did. It was 2 a.m. and she shut her eyes and slept uncomfortably until the morning.

Morning came, and Sally woke up, still with those empty eyes. She picked her torn panties off the floor as soon as she came out of bed, and threw it in the laundry bin also near the bed. She went to the small kitchen in that shoddy apartment and tried to look for a sandwich to give her the few happiness she’s having those days. Her apartment was poorly kept, some clothes still scattered all over, and roaches having exercise routines, trying to be as fast as possible for Sally’s empty eyes not to notice. The kitchen sink was full of dirty plates still teeming with food from about 4 days ago. The roaches were having a feast, so were the small rats who occasionally visit this mecca of dirt and filth. Sally was feeling the pain from her hips, and her face, now blue, also shared in the pain. Sally looked at herself in the mirror after going to the kitchen to grab a sandwich, and she looked with those empty eyes. She wanted to cry, but she wouldn’t. Better yet, she can’t. Her empty eyes show a window to her even emptier heart.

This wasn’t the scenario of poor Sally just 3 years ago. 3 years ago, she seemed to have a future, going to high school a quiet senior who had just aced her math test, again. She was bright, people knew that, but she was distant from people. Often, bitches would try to bark at her to get at least a sliver of a reaction, but Sally was poker faced. She didn’t mind the verbal abuse she got from school, because she had mastered it at home. Her father was a drunkard, and became so just after her mother died when she was still a child. She learned how to take care of herself soon thereafter, as her drunk father tried to physically abuse her and spout words that at first she didn’t understand. Eventually, she realized that her father was blaming her for her mother’s loss. Sally was walking with her mother as the latter tried to pick the former up from school. Sally, an ever curious child, saw a candy store across the street and rushed there, wanting to take one candy home, at least. Her mother ran after her, so did the car that eventually killed Sally’s mother.

Sally then had to live everyday with abuse, but her brain refused to let go, so Sally tried to do well in class, and did so marvelously. She should have been headed to some prestigious school with her grades, but she couldn’t find the money to even at least find a decent scholarship for college. She was stuck, and was desperate. But her biggest mistake was trying to find a way to find that scholarship by going out of their town and to nearby Holt City, where she is now, as an old friend of the family came by one evening and offered her a chance to look for money there in Holt City. When she got there, the old “family friend” brought her to Salvation Alley, and introduced her to another “friend” who then looked at her, and told her that she was a “pretty face”.

Sally was ignorant of the city life, but she was still bright. Somewhere, deep inside the recesses of her mind, she knew what was going to happen. The “friend” whom she was introduced to in Salvation Alley sometime that afternoon asked Sally if she was willing to “model” for some old acquaintances of his. Sally reluctantly agreed, upon knowing that the pay was “substantial” and could be enough to apply to a decent college, a university even, and look for willing scholarship programs. When Sally was dressed later that evening she was surprised that she was put in the back of a van, the “family friend”, driving. She was then sent to a local club in Holt where people were pissing outside, brawls were taking place inside, and scantily clad women were dancing at the poles in a stage at the center of it all. Sally was introduced to the old acquaintances, who looked at her with the deepest sense of perversion. She was then pushed into a room inside the club, where the bad things she was thinking of all those time actually happened.

So here was Sally, stuck to being a pimp’s whore ever since. She wanted to go back, but she was left in the streets and was lost in Holt like a puppy. She barely had something to eat the first three days, and was cold those three evenings. So, as bright as she was, she took the only job she knew would offer her some cash, and went back to Salvation Alley.

As Sally looked at herself in the mirror in that shoddy apartment three years later, she still couldn’t weep. She fixed herself up as best she could because she had to go to her day job, a waitress at a less than shoddy diner across the street from her apartment.