landlords were more than happy to supply them with all the immoral work they could handle.
“And anyway, this cat needs fresh meat every day,” Sandy muttered and Grace just giggled as the naked Dane stroked the black and white cat.
“Hey, Grace!” A voice from behind her shouted. She turned and Sandy gave her a wry smile. They had spent the last seven hours at the massage parlour doing a “day shift” that finished at nine and were walking along the pavement towards their house.
“Another bloke,” she teased and Grace screwed up her eyes. The gentleman ran over to them and when he became visible under the street light, she recognised him immediately, he was the guy from two nights previous: but what was his name?
“A punter,” she murmured and Sandy looked at her strangely.
“You gave a punter your real name, honestly Grace I thought you knew better than that.”
“Yes I know,” Grace replied sharply. “He caught me off-guard.”
“Yeah but…” Sandy stopped as Grace glared at her.
She waited for the man to catch up with them and then replied in a guarded tone. “Hey.” He looked at Sandy and then her companion.
“What's happening?” Terry asked.
Grace looked at him. He was wearing a dark red shirt, with tight white trousers and she smiled; he looked vaguely fashionable if nothing else. “We are off home. Been working all night.”
“Can I not interest you in a drink?” He asked. “There is some live music on at a club just down the road. I'd love to take a couple of lovely ladies.”
Sandy laughed coyly while Grace hesitated. Sandy was certainly interested in the punter who had managed to squeeze Grace's real name out of her, she had never met anyone who had managed to do that, and he seemed nice enough.
“You're just hoping for a freebie,” Grace muttered and Terry shook his head.
“No way. I've got separated from Charlie and the crew on the stag night. I don't want to go back to the hotel so early on mi'own.” Grace hummed. “And I want to thank you for the freebie I did get.”
Sandy turned to her blushing friend, whose redness was hidden by the dusk and stared at her. “You gave out free sex.”
Terry smiled. “I got a blowjob. None of the other guys got one. A couple of drinks. I'll keep my hands to myself, promise. Just le'mme say thank you!”
Sandy looked at Grace again who was concerned. There was something charming about this guy and that worried her. She had had hundreds of punters and never really liked any of them, they were just soulless business transactions, but he was better than all of them. He had certainly eclipsed the usual ambivalence she felt, but that didn't mean she wanted to go dancing with him.
While Grace wrestled with her conscience, Sandy answered for her. “We'd love to,” Sandy replied, and Grace screwed up her face at the Danish girl. “And you can tell me all about yourself. We'd love to know.”
“You sure?” He asked Grace and she nodded. There was no way she was about to let Sandy go out with a strange guy on her own.
“Yeah, and thanks for talking to the manager, he was all smiles when I went home.”
“No worries, you were, sorry you are, incredible.” Terry held out his arms to both of them and set off down the road, with both of the gorgeous girls on tow. He felt like George Best!
Chapter III
“Hey babe,” a drunken reveller shouted at her at a break in the live music. She had been entertaining the gentlemen at the party all night and was feeling decidedly tired; she had certainly earned her money but smiled at the guy staggering over to her. “Were you the girl who fucked ol' Georgie?”
He pointed at a drunken guy collapsed in the corner and she nodded.
“He said you had the loveliest cunt he had ever seen.” He shouted, and there was near silence in the room. “Who wants to see her cunt?”
There was cheer amongst the music and Sandy appeared behind her. “They want you naked babe.”
“Let's have all the chicks naked,” cried a voice from the other side of the room and Grace looked around. She knew five of them were there as “entertainment” but there was at least four times that number who were guests but as the chanting and hollering started all of them stripped to satisfy the testosterone-filled urges in the room.
Grace peeled her silk lingerie off that the host had provided: she was paid to do this and couldn't complain, but got groped as she did, and the provided underwear disappeared into the crowd as soon as it had been removed from her. Certainly the party had got more hedonistic and debauched as the night had wore on, and the alcohol consumption had risen.
“Hey, a shaved fanny,” yelled a girl in front of her and eyes descended on Grace. She was stroked, fondled and manhandled as every guy in the room wanted to feel her smooth, glabrous womanhood. She looked around, she was the only woman in the room she could see without pubic hair and a couple of gentleman took an unusual interest in her all of a sudden. Perhaps she looked a bit too young, and they were creepy.
Grace was used to undesirable gentleman, half of the men at the parlour were what Sandy called “inky” and she was used to be treated as a sexual object, but she was not going to complain: she was getting paid an enormous sum of money just to drink free beer, give blow jobs and fuck anyone who asked. She was earning in one night what she would earn in over a week at the massage parlour although she was beginning to be a little sore and was quite glad she wasn't working there for a couple of days.
Sandy had come to her rescue half way through the night and slipped her a small tube of K-Y Jelly which she was discreetly using to reduce friction. It was a common ploy in the massage parlour, but worked very well at the party as the guys were fairly drunk and she was having to put condoms on them anyway so a small squirt of lubrication as she positioned them into her was not noticed and they came pretty quickly from the intercourse.
“Let's see the two girls fuck,” a voice cried and Grace was pushed towards Sandy, and they gave each other knowing smiles.
“Sure,” Grace cried. “You can go on top!”
“I haven't got my knickers or my bra,” Sandy moaned as they stepped into the road. The room where they got changed had been raided as souvenirs and a large number of clothes had disappeared from when they arrived to when they left, although their cash for the night was still in the safe, to everyone's relief.
The party was a fifteen minute walk from their house, residing in one of the more fashionable parts of London and the girls had opted for a brisk walk instead of an expensive taxi ride.
“Well I am bottomless,” Grace whinged and Sandy peered down at her friends predicament.
“You do look sexy though,” Sandy told her and Grace wrapped her coat around her to protect her modesty as much as possible. The wind rustled up her thighs and it did feel sensual as the coat barely reached her waist. “Hey, we really worked for our cash, eh?”
Grace smiled and darted between the street lights. “Yeah. One guy just keep coming back for blow jobs. He was hurting my jaw in the end.”
Sandy chuckled. “I know. I had a guy who loved my ass. I reckon I went though twenty rubbers tonight.”
Grace nodded and darted down behind a parked car as cyclist came past.
“Oh Grace, don't be silly, it's just a cyclist. And he looks like Terry.”
Grace peered out, wondering if the guy was Terry, if he was stalking her but it wasn't.
“I saw you looking. Hoping that it was I bet.” Sandy teased.
Grace scoffed at her friend and replied scornfully, “don't be silly.”
Sandy poked her tongue out at Grace and shook her head. “I know you better than that, you were checking out his butt last night. You had that horny look in your eye.”
