Chapter 5

User 1496.Male. 34.

I'm an exhibitionist. I want to use you against my window, curtains wide open as I press you to the glass and fuck you like a slut. I want you to cry out so loud my neighbours hear you through the wall, and passersby along the path outside get to see you being slammed like a piece of meat. I want to scrawl marker pen over you. I'll write filth on your tits, and your pussy, and your slutty ass. I'll call you a dirty, cheap bitch who wants people to see. Who NEEDS people to see. I'll shout it so they can hear, and you'll agree with me. You're going to scream it to the world. Some people might well watch up close, right against the window. They'll see what a dirty bitch you are. They'll see just how big a toy a slutty little cunt like yours can take from me.

Anal and pussy. Self-play. Yes. Lots and lots of self-play. Plenty of degradation.

Dress like a cheap, hot little goth bitch, with your tits out from the second you arrive.

Duration: Five hours.

Proposal price: ￡6000.

This kindof proposal might have scared the crap out of me just a few short months ago. But not now. Holly knows the score.

My confidence is sky high after Mr Gregory rated me five stars last night, with another amazing review for my resume. He may have a drawer rammed full of panties, but mine are a memento he'll be holding dear.

I search through my clothes for an outfit that fits the bill for this evening – quite the opposite of the one I was wearing yesterday. I pick one of my oldest black bodices from the back of my wardrobe. A good choice, I think. I used to wear it nearly every weekend at our local rock bar, and it shows. It's been worn so many times the boning is warped, and the top barely holds my tits in. Perfect.

I pick out one of my favourite little skirts, but it's hardly a stunner anymore. I keep it mainly for sentimental value now as the lace around the bottom is frayed to shit. I pair it up with thin holdup stockings, laddered on purpose with a nail file.

I'm less careful with my makeup tonight. No flash contouring, just a thick layer of pale foundation, and catflicks done with a pencil, no brush. I don't use lip liner, just a heavy coat of budget red gloss, destined to get smeared.

I do a twirl in the mirror, and grin, because I've chosen well. I look like a cheap goth hooker, just like User 1496 wants me to.

The address is a place called George Grove, and I know it pretty well since it's only two streets over from mine. I know the path User 1496 is talking about – a lane that runs alongside a poor excuse of a local park, normally filled with crack heads. It makes me wonder how the hell a client around here can afford over a grand an hour for some playtime, but that isn't my question to answer. The Agency will have run their checks on him.

It's a good job I'm close to moving out, since some of my own neighbours might well get to see me in full slutty action tonight. What a farewell fuck you that would be…

I walk quickly, with my head down and my leather coat wrapped up tight. I click arrived on the app as soon as I reach the faded George Grove sign, and the instructions come straight through.

Number 37. Room 2. Front door is open.

Room 2 of number 37. Ok, right. So, this place must be a house share, like mine.

I'm careful on the cracked paving slabs as I step up to the house once I find it. The lights are on in the front windows, both upstairs and downstairs, but the curtains are all drawn shut. Sure enough, the front door is open. Room 2 is straight down the hallway in front of me, most likely where a dining room used to be. I catch sight of the kitchen off to the side, and it's almost as grotty as the one at my place, which is saying something. I won't be accepting a coffee if I get offered one.

I knock on the door of Room 2, but User 1496 doesn't answer. I knock again, and wait, but still nothing.

"Hello," I say, with my face up close to the door. "It's Holly, I'm here."But there's no response. No sign of life until I get another buzz from the app on my phone.

LOUDER. Knock on the door like you mean it. Call me Steve. Shout that you need to see me, that you're desperate for my dick.

Ah, yeah, of course. He wants me to make a spectacle of myself, just like the proposal stated.

It feels weird out here, in the hallway, knowing the house is probably full of other residents, minding their own business… at least for now, but that doesn't matter. There's only one reason I'm here, and it's time to get in character.

I knock harder this time, knuckles rapping hard against the wood.

"Steve! Are you in there?! It's me. Holly!"

Nothing.

"STEVE! Let me in! You know what I'm here for!"

Silence.

I take a breath and hammer my fist against the door so hard it rattles.

"STEVE, FOR FUCK SAKE, JUST LET ME IN, WILL YOU?!"

I hear a door open behind me, and spin around as two people step out into the hall. A guy in a baggy sweater and loose denim shorts, and a girl in a fluffy pink dressing gown, folding her arms as she stares at me.

"You here for Steve?" the girl asks, like it's not obvious.

Time for the roleplay. I let my coat fall open, so they can see my cheap slutty outfit.

"Yeah, I'm here for Steve," I say. "Is he in? I need to see him."

"Think so," the guy says, his eyes straight to my tits, that I know are spilling right out of my bodice. "What you after? Weed or something?"

"No," I say. "He promised he'd fuck me tonight. I just hope he follows through with it."

I expect their eyes to widen in shock, but they don't. The girl sneers at me like I'm a crazy bitch, and as for the guy, he laughs. Yeah, cheeky bastard. He fucking laughs at me.

"He's probably too stoned to hear you." He puts his hands around his mouth. "Oi, STEVE!" he hollers, but still nothing from Room 2, so he shrugs. "Sorry, you'll have to scream your fucking head off until he hears you. Or you could try calling him?"

"I've already tried." I hold up my phone, pretending. "He's ghosting me, but I want his dick too much to stop. Fucking hell, I wish he'd just answer." I turn back to Room 2, but the couple don't go back in theirs. I feel them there, still watching me.

I hammer on the door again like a mad bitch.

"STEVE, JUST OPEN THE DOOR, WILL YOU?! I know you're in there! You promised me cock, remember? YOU SAID I COULD TAKE YOUR FUCKING DICK!!"

If I was myself, nice little Ella right now, I'd be mortified at how desperate I look, but I'm Holly tonight, and Holly the entertainer doesn't care. Holly the whore wants to be fucked by filthy Steve in this filthy house, and she doesn't give a shit who knows it. She wants them to know it.

"STEVE!" I shout, at the top of my voice, and slam my fist against the door once, twice, three times before it finally opens up, just a crack.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

I make sure I'm panting as I get a glimpse of him.

"You promised you'd fuck me, remember? Last night, when you messaged, you said I could take your dick tonight."

"I was trashed last night. I don't remember."

I know his neighbours are still staring. It only adds fuel to my filthy fire.

"Just give me your big fucking cock, will you? I'll do whatever you want, just give it to me. I haven't stopped thinking about it all day."

I hear him scoff through the crack in the door. "Run out of tricks to fuck, have you? You're such a desperate bitch, you know that?"

I act like I'm ashamed, shooting a look of embarrassment over my shoulder. Sure enough, the couple down the hall are still watching on like this is reality TV.

"It's your dick I want, Steve. And no. I don't have any tricks tonight, alright? I'm desperate. For you. I always am. You know it. So stop being an asshole and give me your cock, will you? I'll make it worth it, I promise."

"You'll make it worth it, yeah?" The door swings open, and User 1496 reveals himself, leaning against the doorframe like a rundown resident of shit town. He's wearing a faded black t-shirt and old blue jeans, his hair a mid-length tangle of brown that hasn't seen a brush in a while. "I want your ass as well as your pussy, or you can turn the fuck around and walk back out again."

"Just let me in, ok? You can have whatever you want."

He sighs, as though he's granting mercy. "Alright. Get your horny little ass in here, then. Dirty bitch."

"Thanks."

I make sure I cast another look over my shoulder at his housemates before I step inside. He smirks and waves at them before he closes the door behind us.

And then, just like that, his demeanour changes. Steve – User 1496 – isn't like he appeared at all. He straightens up, and his smirk is darker, his lacklustre attitude disappearing in a beat.

"Full marks for a great start. They'll be listening out for us now."

I grin. "I thought I was going to have to kick your door in if you left it much longer."

"Hmm, nice idea. Maybe next time. I'd love to hear you trying to make a forced entry." He looks up at the ceiling with a smile. "Yeah, they'll have heard you upstairs. My housemates are all probably gathering in the kitchen right now, talking about what a desperate bitch you are." He points to the wall. "Just through there, in fact. Nothing but a thin bit of plasterboard away. How fucking dirty."

"You don't live here, then?"

He laughs. "Hell no. Call it a playroom. I have several house shares dotted around the shithole parts of London. I'm sure they think I'm some kind of drug dealer, but in reality my lifestyle is a little more… regular."

Regular, sure…

Regular and loaded, most definitely.

I shrug off my coat and drop it to the floor amongst the strewn clothes Steve has tossed there. His bed is a mess, as though he really is a slob, but he's playacting, just like me. Damn, he's good at it, so he must have had some practice. I'm going to have to work hard to earn my five-stars this evening.

I remember his instructions and tug my bodice down so my tits burst free. He sits down on an old green armchair and nods, admiring the view.

"You're as hot as your profile suggests. That's a nice surprise."

"Thanks. I'm always out to impress."

He points a thumb at the drawn curtains. "Go open the curtains, hands on your head, and press your tits against the glass. With any luck, someone will be walking by."

I step on over, my heart racing, and pull the curtains apart. I put my hands on my head and press my tits against the glass. I can't deny the thrill as the cold glass sends shivers through me. There doesn't seem to be anyone about, though. The streetlights are crap out there, so I can barely see the path, but anyone passing will be able to get a damn good view in here. We're on the ground floor. Anyone could step right up to the glass if they wanted. Steve knows what he's doing on that score, too. He's positioned a corner light in just the right location to light me up for the outside world.

"No dog walkers?" Steve asks.

"Sadly not," I tell him.

"Then get back over here," he says. "On your knees."

I do as I'm told, stepping over the strewn clothes to drop down onto the carpet at his feet. I stare up at him like the desperate bitch he wants me to be, and expect him to get his dick straight out, but he doesn't. Instead, he reaches behind him and grabs a marker pen from the bedside table.

"Hold your tits up," he tells me, and I obey his command, crushing them together to show off my cleavage.

"Very nice," he says, stroking a finger over both nipples. Then he grips the pen lid in his teeth as he scrawls across my tits.

W. H. O. R. E.

The lines are thick, in permanent black ink. It'll take me a fair amount of scrubbing to get clean later, but that doesn't matter. I can see the bulge in his jeans when he puts the marker back on the side. Success.

"So, tell me. Are you really a needy bitch, Holly, or are you just pretending?"

I let go of my tits and meet his eyes, my imagination running free as I picture what's ahead. This man, Steve, is going to fuck me, and use me, and make me scream for the whole fucking house and the world outside. And you know what? All sweetness be damned, because there's a spark between my legs and I can't deny it. I shift on my knees, because my pussy is already craving. My headspace is sinking into the filth zone, and I want it. Genuinely. I want to be Holly the cheap whore for User 1496 and fulfil his proposal to the letter.

"I'm not pretending," I say, looking him in the eye. "I love what I do, not just the money from it."

He leans forward, his face up close to mine. Steve is no model, but I don't want him to be. His eyebrows are wispy, and his nose is skinny in contrast to his bulky chin, and that's great for me. It's fine. I want this to be about the filthy fucking sex, and nothing more.

"That's good," he says. "It'll be all the more convincing when you come for me."

"It won't need to be convincing," I say, taking hold of my tits again and squeezing my nipples. "It'll be for real, and you'll know it."

"Guess the five-star reviews are right, then. Be a good girl for me, and you'll get another one."

I don't baulk or flinch as he lands his lips on mine, just moan into the sloppy kiss and let his tongue swirl wet in my mouth. He's making it dirty on purpose, but I don't care. I reach up and take hold of his hair, kissing him back like I mean it. Fuck, I know my lipstick must be smearing. He grins like a dirty bastard as he pulls away, and then he takes advantage of it. He drags his palm across my lips to smear it right across my cheek.

"That suits you. You really do look like a whore now, so prove it. Finger your whore cunt. Show me how wet you are."

I tug my lace thong to the side, and tease my clit before I hook two fingers inside me. I pump them hard, so he can hear the squelch, adding a third to make it louder.

"There, can you hear that? That's no lie, Steve. I want to be a whore as much as you want to make me one."

"Say it, then. Say you're a whore. Keep fingering your wet cunt and tell me you're a whore."

"I'm a whore," I tell him, and speed my fingers up. "I'm a dirty whore, Steve, and I'm all yours tonight."

He smirks at that. "Louder. Say it louder."

I imagine his neighbours gathered next door, listening out for me, but I don't care. I smirk right back at him and say it louder.

"I'm a whore."

"Not good enough."

I focus on the heat of the sensation between my legs and close my eyes, preparing myself.

"I'm a whore!"

"Pathetic." He laughs, and it spurs me on.

I stand up, lifting my stiletto onto the arm of his chair so he can see how wet my cunt is, and then I fuck myself with four fingers, right in front of his face.

"I'M A WHORE, STEVE! A CHEAP, LITTLE FUCKING BITCH, AND YOU'RE GONNA FUCK ME! THAT'S WHAT I NEED, STEVE! I NEED YOU TO FUCK ME!"

"That's better," he says. "More."

I give him more. I play with my pussy, and moan between yells as I let his neighbours know why I'm here. How much I want to be used. To be fucked. To be slammed by his big dick in any hole he'll take from me. I sound desperate, and I feel desperate as I work my fingers in the right spot. The rhythm is driving me insane. I'm getting there, gasping between yells… but he doesn't let me finish. He takes hold of my wrist and stops me just as I'm about to reach the crest.

Ahhh, fuck. It's a killer.

"Good girl," he says. "Now get those panties off. Get everything off apart from the stockings."

Fuck it. I was close. So fucking close. My chest is heaving as I try to orientate myself, my pussy crying out for more. I do as he says, watching him every second as I strip without hesitation or restraint, and he pats the arm of the chair when I'm done.

"Foot back up here, just like you were."

I make sure my legs are spread wider this time. I make sure my pussy is on full display. He strokes around my clit, just a little, and I moan for him, hoping he'll grant me that orgasm, but no. He reaches for the marker pen and he's back onto the word games. I don't know what he's writing this time. I just enjoy the sensation as he sketches out the letters on my pussy.

"Slut," he says. "You've got slut written on your cheap whore cunt."

I rock my hips. "Apt. What else are you going to write on me?"

"Hmm, let me see." He runs a finger up my slit, close enough to my clit that I get tingles. "Turn around and bend over. I want to see your ass."

The shift is easy. I bend over and present my ass for him, like a blank canvas. I can feel the letters are big this time as he starts scribbling.

"Want to know what it says?" he asks when he's done.

I try to take a look over my shoulder, but can only make out the tops of the letters.

"Use me," he says, and traces the letters with a finger, letting me feel their position.

Useis on one cheek. Me is on the other. What a sight it'll be for him when spreads them and rams his cock inside.

"Go back to the window," he says. "Stand up tall, and spread your legs. Show off the words and get those fingers in your cunt again. Play for anyone watching."

I feel like a depraved showgirl as I follow his instructions. My heart is racing, imagining people gathering out there in the shadows, watching me. Steve moves from the armchair to the bed, chilling out with his hands behind his head, and a smirk on his face, like he's nothing but amused by me being such a filthy spectacle. He hasn't even got his cock out yet.

Maybe I should try harder…

I want to be a five-starrer, after all.

I put one foot on the sill to give anyone out there watching a better view, working my fingers inside me. I'm not faking it as my breaths speed up and I grind harder, pushing deeper, but damn him. Every time I get close to coming, Steve tells me to stop again, and it's savage. I feel like I'm going out of my mind. The minutes slow down to hours, my pussy pumped so hard it's getting sore – my need to come gripping my fingers.

"Please…" I ask him after round three. "I need to come now. I need it. Please, Steve."

"Louder."

I don't hold back, because I can't. I've had enough. My voice is like thunder in the room.

"LET ME COME, STEVE, PLEASE. I NEED TO FUCKING COME! I can't take it anymore! I can't!"

The room is deathly silent after my outburst. My fingers are still deep in my pussy until he finally breaks the tension.

"Excellent work. I'll give you a little help, shall I? Call it a reward," he says, and opens his bedside drawer.

He tosses a decent sized vibrator over at me, and I smile with a genuine thanks. My hand has been working so hard my wrist is aching.

"I want you to get yourself off with that dirty toy on show, right in front of the window," he tells me. "Come hard when you do."

"Don't worry, I will. You won't have long to wait."

The vibrator feels so good as I work it inside me. It's ridged and so easy to press against the just the right spot. Yes. That's it. That's right… I'm moaning, legs trembling as I pick up the pace. My head spins with the thought of people out there, watching. It only makes me pump harder. Desperate.

I really am desperate, and I'm nearly there… climax building.

I think of the neighbours gathering on the other side of the wall as I let myself groan and curse, saying how fucking good it feels, and Steve coaxes me. He tells me I'm a good slut,and to let go, moan louder. Faster. Fuck yourself harder! And I'm almost there… I'm almost fucking there.

But then he stops me. AGAIN. The bastard stops me when I'm a panting wreck, right on the edge. "Stop now," he says, like it means nothing.

I look over at him in needy shock.

"No. Please. Seriously. You said I could come!"

"I was playing with you, Holly." His smile is so filthy. "It's my show, remember?"

Yes, it is. It is his show. I'm nothing but a fuck toy, here to serve. Nothing more than a dirty slut called Holly, here at his disposal. I could scream at him, my pussy is so fucking desperate, but a knowing glint in his eyes catches me off guard.

He's the master at this game. Not me.

He knows what he's doing.

This is orgasm denial, with peaks and troughs of utter insanity, on display for the world outside to see – and there's an end goal he has in mind. I'll be so worked up and grateful when he finally lets me do it – if he finally lets me do it – that I'll feel it through my whole fucking body like a lightning strike. And the people around us will know it.

He holds out a hand for the vibrator, and I give it to him, breaths still ragged.

He tips his head at the window, giving me another filthy insight into his thinking.

"Now, see that. Anyone out there will know that I'm the one in charge here. You played like a slutty bitch, and then you stopped, because I fucking told you to. Every time I told you to." Finally, he lets his dick free from his jeans. It's a decent length. As big as the vibrator. "How do you feel about that, Holly? They're out there, no doubt about that, gathering and watching. That's why I chose this shitty room to rent as a play den. There are always people peering in from the skanky park out there, smoking weed.

I stare out through the window, and sure enough, I see some figures in the gloom, leaning against the railings. At least four of them. I get a crazy weird thrill up my spine.

"How do you feel about it, Holly?" he asks again.

I don't flinch as I smile.

"I feel really good about it, actually. I must be an exhibitionist myself."

"Really? You fucking like it? Being a slut on display?" He looks sceptical, but I'm not lying, and I'll prove it.

I walk closer to the window, and wave for the people outside, and then I put my foot up on the windowsill again, showing off my pussy to whoever wants a view while I grope my tits. Steve sits bolt upright on the bed as I blow the watchers a kiss.

"Jesus Christ," he says. "You really are a kinky bitch, aren't you?"

I take my foot down from the sill. "Yeah, I am. And this is what you wanted me for, isn't it? You wanted everyone to know I'm a slut who's desperate for you, and here you have it. I am one."

He works his cock in his hand at that, glistening. It feels so good to know I'm succeeding at turning him on. I get a glow of pride as I look at him.

"Up to the glass now," he says. "Up tight. Tits against it."

The glass is cold enough that I gasp on contact. Oh, the beautiful chill of single glazed windows. I get goosebumps as Steve gets up from the bed and steps up behind me – his closeness giving me a shiver. I cry out as he slides his hand between my legs without warning, shoving four thick fingers all the way inside me.

"Ride them like a slut," he says. "You wanted to come, so use them. Use my whole fucking hand if you need to."

Yes, thank God. I ride his fingers with my tits mashed against the windowpane, moaning like a bitch at the grind.

"If only the people out there could hear how wet your pussy is," he says.

I nod, deep in the headspace. "Yeah, fuck, I'd like that."

"Thought so. Maybe one day I'll invite them in here, how about that? I'll share you around."

The thought makes my clit spark. Right now, I'd take anyone. He's got me on a string.

"Feel free to send me a proposal," I groan. "You've seen my naughty list… I don't have many restrictions…"

"I might well do. In the meantime, you'll have to tell them how wet your pussy is instead. Go on, Holly, shout it out loud and clear. Tell them how wet your cunt is."

With that, he reaches up above my head and opens the top window wide. Shit. It becomes so real as the chill of the air comes in. I can see those figures in the shadows, they feel so much closer now…

I suck in a breath. Heart pounding. Trying to get myself ready.

"Go on," he urges. "Shout out what I'm doing to you, tell the losers outside and the nosey pricks through the wall. I want them to hear it. I want them to know what a horny, hungry slut you are." He pauses. "Tell you what. I'll go first. How about this?" I jump in shock, still impaled on his fingers as he bellows out loud. "YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A CHEAP WHORE. TAKE IT, BITCH. TAKE IT IN THAT SLUTTY, WET CUNT!"

Wow, his tone.

So alive.

So strong.

So real.

Playtime blurs with reality and there's something down deep, stirring. Something in him triggers something in me.

Freedom.

That's the word for it.

At that, my walls come down and I'm nothing but an entertainer, enjoying my job for everything it's worth. I push every scrap of inhibition aside, and I just fucking go for it. I let it all flow free. I ride Steve's fingers, and I scream at full volume, telling the world how wet my slutty cunt is, and how much I need it, and how much I need him. I beg him for his dick, screaming out please. PLEASE, STEVE, PLEASE! FUCK ME! GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING COCK!

He barely gives me any warning before he delivers what I've been begging for. He presses up behind me in seconds, slamming balls deep in my pussy as he pins me to the glass.

"Keep shouting," he says. "Tell them how good it feels. And make it fucking real."

I do make it real. I put my foot back up on the windowsill and take him where it feels best, grinning as I resume my screaming and shouting. But this time it's laced with moans. Real moans as the pleasure builds.

More people are gathering against the railings outside, nothing but silhouettes looking in at me. I hear the jeering, and cheering, and wolf whistles through the open window, and fuck, yes. I feel like a filthy porn star giving the seedy performance of a lifetime. Not only that, I know the people through the wall will be listening to every single word, and it feels so dirty hot, it's insane. I'm still crying out and yelling filth when they eventually start banging on the wall and yell for us to SHUT THE FUCK UP, and it fuels Steve. He fucks me harder, making him curse, which only sets me off even worse.

What a vicious, dirty head-spin of a cycle. I'm as bad as he is, wired up in his world of fantasy.

Holy fuck, my orgasm is genuine, and as electric as I suspected it would be – as electric as Steve knew it would be. It makes me quake and squeal and buck like a madwoman as he ploughs me with everything he has. I'm a trembling wreck, gasping against the glass as the pleasure racks through me, my mind buzzing as the onlookers keep on jeering. What a joy that they get to see me in such full, unabashed glory. Dirty enough that I hope it'll sear itself into their memories for all time.

When I'm finally done coming, Steve stops. He pulls his cock out of me and spins me around to face him.

"I thought you were bigging it up," he says. "When you said you really were a true, horny bitch. But you weren't, were you? You really are a kinky one."

I grin, still panting. "Yep. That's me. Like I told you, I'm an entertainer for a reason, and it's not just for the cash."

"Then I guess you really will like taking cock in the ass as well."

"Sure will, thank you." I still have a grin on my face. "Want me to scream some more and let the neighbours know about it?"

"Yes fucking please."

I turn back around, still smiling, tits back up to the glass. I'm not quite ready to take him in the ass, but that doesn't matter, I'm still high enough to grit my teeth and spread my ass cheeks for him, shunting back as he thrusts his way inside me. Fuck it hurts, but a few tight slams, and I already want more.

It feels so easy now to shout the commentary for the neighbourhood.

"FUCK, YES! TAKE MY DIRTY ASS, STEVE! TAKE MY FILTHY SLUT ASS!"

I picture the words Use Me scrawled on my butt cheeks as he inches back for a better view. I imagine how dirty I must look from his angle, with my own hands spreading me open.

"Fucking hell," he says, and he's losing his self-control. I can feel it.

He's consumed by the way I clench for him when I start moaning amidst the shouting. I scream out how good it feels to have his cock buried deep and dirty, and how much harder I want it. How I need him to give it all he's got. Because I want his cum, goddamnit! I want his cum!

My words are all true.

I want his cock buried deep and dirty in my ass, with my tits mashed up to the cold glass window. I want it as hard as he can give me, as rough as can be.

I'm glad he takes hold of my ass cheeks for leverage, because my pussy needs my fingers. I work myself as he fucks my ass, my tits slapping the glass with every thrust, and it's pure fucking heaven as we reach the peak at the same time. My God, how good it feels when the waves course through me all over again. I'm flying sky high as Steve grunts and spits and curses, then spurts his cum in my ass with five heavenly slamming thrusts.

And he's done.

We'redone. Together.

But it's far from over.

"Good timing," Steve says with a laugh.

I'm not sure what he means until I realise there's someone right outside the window. I gasp in shock, and almost go to cover myself, but no. Steve grabs my hair, and spins me around, then leans in so his mouth is by my ear.

"That's Pete from a few doors down. He always comes to check out the filth when he hears the shouting, crack head perv. Let's give him a show."

He bends me over, nice and rough.

"Spread your ass cheeks and push my cum out for him," he says, tugging my hair harder.

I do as he says and reach behind to spread my ass cheeks. Steve holds me firm as I clench and push. I can feel his cum dribbling out of me.

"Pete's got his cock out already," Steve says, his own cock swelling all over again, right in my face. "Good girl. You're going to make him come, you know that? You're going to make the skanky loser shoot his filthy load."

A side glance tells me Steve isn't lying. Pete is jerking off, laughing as he does it, like I'm nothing but a piece of flesh, there for his amusement. I guess that's true, though. I am.

Steve holds me there, fully on display with my ass cheeks spread, so Pete can see the cum still dribbling out of me. I hear the splatter of Pete's cum on the glass outside, and the grunts as he unloads. He's sure not laughing anymore.

"Dirty bastard," Steve says as Pete puts his cock away. "I should start charging him."

"Or invite him in," I hear myself saying.

Steve laughs, ruffles my messed-up hair. "I like you, Holly."

"Same," I tell him.

As Steve helps me to my feet, Pete gives a thumbs up and walks away.

"He'll be back for round two," Steve says.

"Round two?" I ask.

"Yeah." He pulls the curtains closed. "Always a round two. But it's time for a break. What are you having? I've got wine or wine. Don't worry, it's all in here. I wouldn't touch that rancid kitchen with a barge pole."

Thank fuck for that.

"Wine will do nicely," I say, sitting on his bed to catch my breath.

He takes the bottle and glasses out of his wardrobe. It's not a surprise to see it doesn't have any actual clothes in it. This place is all for show.

And there's more to come…

"What happens in round two?" I ask as he hands me a glass of red.

"Round two always draws a bigger crowd," Steve says, smirking. He goes to his bedside drawer again and takes out a monster dildo that's as thick as his wrist. Shit. "And your needy cunt will swallow this whole, I'm sure."

I take a gulp of wine, already buzzing in anticipation. My pussy will sure as fuck feel the stretch tonight.

"I like getting my money's worth," he says when he sees me eyeing up the toy.

"Don't worry. I like to deliver," I tell him.

"Good girl." He clinks his glass to mine. "You drink your wine while I take a shower. Get yourself worked up for what's coming next. You really are going to be a slut on display tonight. You're going to earn every penny."

"I wouldn't want anything less."

I'm not lying, either. I never do.

That's one thing that always churns right down deep – the ever-growing knowledge of just what a dirty bitch I really am. Was I always like this? Was I just too obsessed with Connor to see what a true slut I wanted to be?

Who knows? Who cares? I don't need to think about anything other than the task in front of me.

True to his word, the next couple of hours are a whirlwind of horny filth with Steve. My God, does he make me earn my money – performing for the jeering crowd as much as for him. Pete the crack head does come back for more, beckoning some more of the watchers up to the window, and there are a crowd of them up close as Steve forces the wrist-thick dildo in my used-up pussy. It hurts and strains me like a bitch when he first pounds me with it, but I take it for the crowd.

Turns out Steve is a true show-off.

He finishes our performance by fucking me from behind, hitting the right angle to have me squirming and begging until I come. And then he hogs the limelight, pushing me to my knees and shooting his load all over my face as the final act of the evening.

Wow, what a night. I'm grinning at the crowd gathered outside, cum dripping from my chin, so tempted to give a bow to the audience.

"You're really good," Steve says as he watches me revelling in the afterglow. "You've definitely earnt five stars."

That makes the glow in my chest even brighter. Earning these five-stars tonight was filthy heaven, actually. I like Steve a lot.

But as I catch my breath – my face still dripping with cum – there's only one thought on my mind.

Josh. Weston.

If only Steve was Weston…

And if only he'd had barbells right the way up his cock…

Our date is almost here. Tomorrow night, I'll be in Kensington – staring over at the hardcore legend as we eat dinner together.

That's a fantasy, all on its own.