Kim cursed as she turned into the motel parking lot.

The front axle on her reddish 2016 Dodge Journey was making clunking noises again, like it had been doing almost every day for the past month.  The mechanic had said it would cost around $750, but she wouldn’t have enough left over after she paid this week’s rent to the motel manager.  She shrugged; it was just another problem that she would have to deal with later.

When she pulled up to the door of her room, she noticed a strange woman standing in front of the neighboring door with a cigarette in her hand.  Like Kim, she was also bleached blonde, but with a faded pink t-shirt and a white micro-bikini bottom that would be strange anywhere else except this shithole. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, although it was hard to be sure with smokers who looked like they did drugs.

The woman glanced briefly in Kim’s direction but paid no attention to her.  That was fine with Kim.  She parked her worn-out car, grabbed the vodka bottle hidden under the seat, and walked into her room.  She didn’t even look at the other woman as she passed; all she could think about was a hot shower… and the bottom of that vodka bottle.

Instead of taking a shower, though, she ended up flopping down on the cheap sofa that the motel had provided. It smelled like cigarettes and mold, but was actually quite comfortable.  After a few minutes of staring at the ceiling, she sighed loudly.

Although her job at the Hotdog House had sucked, it had at least covered the motel room and the vodka.  Now that she was fired, Kim wasn’t sure what to do.  It had been her seventh job in the past two years, so there were probably very few businesses left in the area that were still willing to employ her. For that matter, there were few businesses left in the area to begin with - period. The area’s economy had only continued to get even worse after the pulp and paper mill had shut down. These days, there was a lot of competition for even the minimum-wage jobs.

She finally took a swig from the bottle. Then another.  The initial burst of warmth in her stomach was soon followed by a slight surge of happy emotions. Smiling, she took another big gulp of the vodka.

After a half hour, she was about as drunk as her high alcohol tolerance would allow.  The vodka was almost done.   Before she could finish it off, though, she heard what sounded like a loud grunt from the neighboring room.  She stopped and listened, wondering if she was about to hear another incidence of the domestic violence that was so common in this place.

Kim couldn’t hear anything, so she raised her bottle up to drain the last mouthful - when suddenly the wall made a loud thump.  A second later, there was another thump, then another. Although you could usually hear everything through the thin walls, the loud thumping - it was obviously sex - drowned out any grunts or other noises.

She stood up and drained the bottle as the thumping continued.  The faded picture of the city skyline on the wall bounced slightly with every thump, to the point where Kim wondered if it would actually fall off.  She thought about pounding on the door with the bottle, but that might invite some angry man to come out and hammer on her door.

Shrugging, she stripped her clothes off and took her shower. The sound of the water hid the thumping noises and, by the time she was out, the thumping had stopped. Kim dried off, pulled a t-shirt on, and started rummaging around the trash can for any bottles that might still have a swig or two left in them.

She had just confirmed that there was no vodka left in the room when the thumping started again. She looked at the wall in amazement; some guy was so horny that he was back to banging his girl less than a half hour after he had drained his balls the first time.  Poor woman.

Whatever.  It was time to get more vodka; she could afford at least two or three more bottles before cutting into the rent money.  She pulled on some shorts and sandals and headed out the door.

As she walked across the parking lot towards the ABC store, she heard the neighbor’s door open. Turning briefly, she saw a skinny white guy in a wife beater shirt and ballcap come out, with a lit cigarette already hanging off his lower lip.  He looked like he hadn’t taken a bath or washed his clothes in weeks. Poor woman.

It didn’t take long to get to the ABC store, which was a good thing because it was almost time for it to close for the day.  She picked one bottle of the shelf, paused for a moment, and grabbed two more.  As she carried her heavy, clinking bag back to the motel, she resisted the urge to open a bottle right there on the sidewalk.

When she crossed into the parking lot, she was shocked to see a man heading into her neighbor’s room.  He was black, wearing a track suit that looked a bit tight around his gut and too long on his legs.

How strange… For a second, she stood and watched, before deciding that it was a friend of the other guy.

Pulling out one of the vodka bottles, she went into her own room and shut the door in anticipation of trying to feel drunk again. After years of drinking, it was a surprisingly difficult feat to achieve.

Before she could get her second gulp in, though, the wall started pounding again.  She giggled slightly and kept drinking.  It was clear that her new neighbor was a hooker, which brought back memories of her own time as an escort.  Although it was almost twenty years before, Kim could still remember getting “slips” from her boss.  The slips were just simple notes that always included a man’s name, the name of one of the local restaurants, and the appointment time.  The boss, an old hag named Jill, kept her pretty busy with two or three slips a day (except Mondays).  The routine always included a meal paid for by the customer, followed by a visit to a nearby hotel which was also paid for by the customer.  Once a week, she would get her cut from the  appointment fees that Jill had collected throughout the week.  In those days, Kim has never been short on money, especially given that almost all of her meals were paid for.

Alas, she couldn’t return to those days, because she was too old at the age of 43 (no escort service would ever hire anyone over the age of 30). Then an idea suddenly hit her.

Maybe she was too old for the brothel, but what about freelance?  She stripped out of her shirt and shorts and looked at herself in the mirror.  Kim’s body was a bit “fluffy” these days, but she wasn’t truly fat.  If anything, she had gained just enough weight to have some nicer curves and larger breasts than when she was younger.

Her skin was mostly ok, but she would have to shave her legs better. In fact, she remembered that she would have to shave her pubic hair, too, assuming men still liked a clean camel toe.  The only problem was her face… After all the years of drinking, it had become a bit splotchy and her jowls had started hanging down.

Still, the more she looked at herself, the more she thought she might have a solution to her problem.  Men would still want to fuck her - hell, men want to fuck any woman they see. After all, the neighbor appeared to have racked up at least two paying customers just in the past hour, despite looking like bottomed-out trailer trash.  The only question was how much Kim could charge.

In the 1990s, she had made $100 per customer from her cut, which was probably worth at least $150 in today’s money.  If she could get just $50 per guy, she would only need to drain fifteen dicks to replace her car axle.  A week’s rent would cost ten dicks.  A bottle of vodka would cost only a quarter of a dick.  After some thought, she calculated that she could cover an average week of bills by servicing only around a dozen dicks a week - which translated into only two penises a day.  Without the need to do small talk over meals, she was probably talking about only a couple hours of work a day!!

Kim felt renewed as she settled into bed to sleep. The intermittent thumping throughout the night didn’t bother one bit as she dreamed of dollar signs and vodka bottles.

The next day, she woke up and started thinking about how to get clients with no escort service running the logistics.  A pimp was out of the question, as they took most of the money. Anyway, those dirtbags generally only existed to manage addicts who were too drugged up to defend themselves and collect payment.  She decided to start marketing herself on various online forums, dating apps, and classifieds.

Over the next week, she discovered that it was much harder than she thought. In America, escort websites were a great way to get arrested and most apps had become quick to ban anyone suspected of being a sex worker.  Days passed with not a single customer, while she texted guys who only seemed to only want to send her dick pics.   

Meanwhile, Kim’s neighbor seemed to have an endless supply of penises.  Every evening, the thumping started around 5-6 and continued on and off throughout the night.  Usually, around a half dozen guys pounded the neighbor per day, but a few times Kim counted over ten. Kim tried to imagine working ten hairy cocks in one day and got tired just thinking about it.

Anyway, it was so frustrating.  Kim was tempted to introduce herself, but avoided it out of pride. After she paid almost all of her remaining cash on another week’s rent, though, an idea appeared in her head. She decided to wait outside her room and ask the johns how they had found her neighbor.  The next time the wall started pounding, she dressed in a long t-shirt with no bottoms, stepped outside, and waited.

After around fifteen minutes, a fat guy sporting sweaty t-shirt and work pants emerged.  Kim quickly jumped into action by pretending to smoke.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a cigarette, would you?” she asked.

He turned and smiled when he saw Kim, with her busty chest and tangled bleach-blonde hair.  Her shirt didn’t cover her vagina, so he could see a bit of her camel toe, which she had been keeping completely shaved in anticipation of getting a customer - any customer.

“Um, no I don’t, but I would be happy to buy you a whole pack if you want.”

“You would do that for me?” she asked in a soft voice.

“Absolutely! You want to, uh, ride with me over to the gas station?”

“Well…. Uh. Ok. But first, let me ask you a question…”  She paused and continued, “How do you all know to come to the neighbor?  I mean, I know what she does and wanted to know how she does it.”

The man laughed, “She spreads her legs, babe!  That’s all she needs to do! You aren’t trying to get her in trouble, are you? Cuz that would be fucked up.”

“No, no!  I actually want to do what she does is all.  Wait, I mean, uh-“

He cut her off, “You want to be a whore, baby? Cuz you are too hot for that work.  Mmmm.”

“You think men will still want my body?” she asked.

“Hell yeah! It’s like Anna Nicole Smith was still alive. In fact, I would love to fuck another lady in the same day.  You wanna go into your room? I can help you get started on your new job, you know,” he chuckled.

Kim hesitated; it was the moment of truth. Then the thought of homelessness and no vodka entered her imagination, so she quickly smiled and opened the door, bowing slightly as she invited him inside with a wave of her hand.

She followed as he walked in and closed the door.  He turned, reaching for his wallet.

“I guess you want your money first, like the other girl.  How much are you charging?” he asked.

“Depends. What do you want to do to me?” she asked.  “Also how much does she charge, anyway?”

“Ah, well, she’s flat rate.  For two twenties, she will let you fuck her pussyhole for a half hour.  But she doesn’t do anal or suck dick. She won’t even bend over! Just lays back, spreads her legs, and lets you climb on for a while.”

“$40??” I exclaimed.  “That’s it?”

“Best price in town, if you don’t mind only having one sex position to work with.  So what about you? Does that mean you are more expensive?”

“How much am I worth, do you think?”

“Oh, I guess it depends on what you will let me do,” he said. “If you will let me fuck your asshole and cum on your face, I would pay fifty bucks. Maybe sixty. For regular missionary, though, I would probably give you two twenties.  Just remember, if you want more customers, though, you need to keep your prices low - the marketplace has a lot of competition in it. There’s whores standing around all day downtown with nothing to do, you know.”

Kim thought about how she badly needed money. She was down to her last hundred dollars and her last bottle of vodka had almost run out.  The idea of anal sex and a bunch of sperm on her face wasn’t something she had anticipated. Things were different nowadays.  In the 1990s, men were content mostly with getting their dick sucked, followed by some vanilla vaginal sex and a condom filled with jizz.

“Ok, for sixty bucks, you can do what you want to me,” she said at last.

The man smiled in a predatory manner.  “Ok, you lovely slut… Go ahead and turn around. Drop down on your knees, bend over, and arch your back.  Chin should touch the rug. I will do the rest.”

Kim did as she was told. As her chin touched the rug, she felt his hands grab both of her ass cheeks and pull them apart.  She then heard the sound of spitting, followed by a wet sensation on her anus.  Here it comes, she thought.

Sure enough, she felt his hard cock pushing into her butthole, but it wouldn’t penetrate.  After a couple of seconds of trying, he replaced his cock with a finger that he roughly forced into her ass.  He jiggled his finger around inside her for what seemed to be minutes, but was probably just seconds.  It didn’t hurt, necessarily, but felt acutely uncomfortable.  It had been over ten years since she had last been anally penetrated, when her ex-husband had insisted on sticking it in about an hour before he told her that was filing for divorce.

Eventually, he pulled his finger out, spit again, and shoved his prick deep into her anal canal.  She involuntarily grunted as the full length of his moderate-sized cock entered her butt.  This time, it did hurt.  He may have not had a large dick, but her anus was simply not used to having anything shoved in it.

She tried relaxing, to ease the pain. She knew that most damage from anal sex occurred when the person getting butt fucked was unable to relax their sphincter enough to avoid tearing.

The man cared nothing about any of that as he pounded her ass.  Although they were not on anything that would thump into a wall, the whole room was echoing with the sounds of his upper thighs slapping into her ass.

“Goddamn, that’s good, babe!  You have a tight asshole.  Love it!!” he said in a hearty voice.

She didn’t reply, except gasping slightly each time the man’s erect penis plunged back down to its maximum depth.  This wasn’t terrible, she thought. There were worse jobs.  She stared at the rug right below her nose and focused on the individual rug fibers in order to keep herself from thinking about how her asshole was currently being stretched open by some fat guy whose name she didn’t even know… a fat guy who could have any disease, especially if he had been regularly fucking the prolific whore next door without a condom.

She was thinking about how the rug up close looked like an alien forest when the man suddenly pulled his dick out of her butthole.

“Roll over, slut,” he said, in a hoarse voice.

She extended both legs and laid face down on the rug, in order to turn over. Before she had started to roll, though, she felt his hands grab her shoulder and pull quickly.  As her body flipped around, she found herself looking directly at the man’s penis, which he was jacking off as he pointed it right toward her eyes.  For a split second, she had an image of a big, sweaty bellow heaving above her, with the man’s penis being stroked violently between that massive gut and her face. Before she had time to internalize what was happening, her view was obstructed by a large mass of cum droplets which washed across the upper part of her face. Instead of a single line of cum, like most guys, he had ejaculated a shotgun blast of semen.  As she realized what it was, she wondered how he could possibly have that much sperm left over after fucking the neighbor only fifteen minutes ago.

She lay on the floor for a minute, as the sperm dripped down the sides of her face, towards her ears.  Although she kept her eyes closed, she could feel the slight sting of the sperm under her eyelids.  There was a slight salty taste in her mouth, as well.  In all, she felt fully inundated by sperm; seemed her first customer was some sort of one-man bukkake team…

As she finally stood up, she used her shirt to wipe the jizz off her eyes.  As she blinked and looked around, she noticed the man walking towards the door.

“Wait!” she called out.

“Your money’s on your table there, sweetie,” he said over his shoulder.

“No, it’s just that you didn’t tell me how my neighbor gets some many dicks!”

The man paused in the open door and said, “Oh, that’s no big secret. Just the opposite. It’s all about word-of-mouth and price. One of the contractors on our culvert project told me that there was this cheap slut next door in the Goodway Motel, so I rolled up and knocked. The rest is history,” he laughed.  “Anyway, don’t worry, I am going to tell my whole crew about you.  You will be up to your ears in dicks before you know it, with them titties and that tight asshole of yours! See you the next time!”

He shut the door and everything was quiet.  She walked into her bathroom to wash herself and noticed that there were still streaks of sperm on her face, mostly around the sides. There was even a ribbon of the creamy stuff in her hair! As she stood there in front of the mirror, with tangled hair, cum on her face, and a sore anus, she felt like a used whore.  Which she was, of course - but a used whore who was now $60 richer.

She had just gotten out of the shower when she heard a thumping noise. For a moment, she thought it was the neighbor getting plowed again, but it was something else. Someone was knocking on her door!

She answered the door with only a towel around her, cracking the door slightly to peer out.  She said, “Can I help you?” before opening the door enough to see three guys in work clothes, with steel-toe boots and high viz jackets, waiting outside… She let her towel drop to the floor.

One of them held up three twenties and said, “I’m first.  I am going to want that $60 option my boss just told us about.”

Although her butt still stung a bit, she smiled and opened the door all the way. All three men licked their lips as they saw her large areolas and the meaty pussy lips that peeked ever so slightly out from her slit.