"Mmmmm, didn't you like it?" Debby murmured, sensing that everything wasn't right.
"I'm sorry I called you a whore," Jimmy said. "I don't know why I said it."
"That's OK," Debby laughed. "Mmmmm, I felt like a whore when we were doing it."
"Maybe I'd better go now," Jimmy said, still confused at his own emotions.
"But you said you were going to spend the night since my mom is gone," Debby protested.
"Well, OK," Jimmy said reluctantly.
Although Debby was hurt, she wasn't going to let it bother her. It was Thursday, and it would be the last night she would have with him until Monday. That lady on the phone told her to be there at five sharp on Friday – tomorrow.
And a hundred dollars! If she got only two more jobs like that, she and Jimmy would have the rest of the summer together.
"Want me to suck you a little?" Debby grinned, pulling away from his body. "Hmmmmm? I'll do it so good for you, baby."
"Yeah, I'd like that." Jimmy grinned suddenly, remembering the way her mouth felt, sliding up and down his cock. "But you'll take it slow, OK?"
"Oh, yes, slow and easy," Debby said, lifting her body off his middle.
When she saw the glistening wads of cum on his cock, she felt her throat ache with hunger. And the size of his cock! His prick was ten or eleven inches. She just wished she could somehow suck all his cock in her throat. That, however, was impossible. She'd tried it before and almost choked to death.
"I love your big cock," she whispered, positioning herself between his outstretched legs.
She then lifted his meaty prick shaft and kissed the creamy tip. When the taste of cum stung the back of her throat, she opened her mouth wide and lowered her head.
"Mmmmm," she murmured, lapping her tongue at the loose sheath of his foreskin.
Jimmy lay back and was treated to a deliciously slow blow-job that made him once more disappointed that they wouldn't be spending the weekend together.
CHAPTER TWO
Debby stood outside the rundown house and again checked the address on the piece of paper she held in her hand. This wasn't anything like she'd imagined. In her mind she had seen a lovely home, with a manicured lawn, perhaps a Mercedes parked out front.
Instead, she was greeted with what looked like an abandoned shack, set at the end of a garbage-strewn street in a part of south Dallas that had a reputation for seedy characters.
She was about to turn around and get back into her car when a young woman of about twenty-four or twenty-five, came out. She walked down the steps between three parked motorcycles and gave Debby a big smile.
"Are you Debby, the sitter?" the woman asked.
"Well, yes," Debby answered, looking more carefully at the woman, not particularly liking, or even approving of what she saw. "But I think I've changed my mind."
The woman could have been beautiful if she'd just tried harder. She was tall and lanky and had ripened tits pressing through the material of her cheap blouse. The dark-red hair looked greasy, however, and her face was death white. Dark circles were under the woman's eyes. There was a faint odor of oil and gasoline about her.
"Come on inside before you make a decision," the woman said. "I'm Amy, by the way. My, uh, son is in here."
Well, a hundred dollars is a hundred dollars, Debby thought. And she supposed she could take anything for a couple of days, even staying in this dirty shack.
After Debby was ushered into the living room, she flinched. Two men were sitting on a torn couch, drinking beet. They were surrounded by torn newspapers, empty beer cans and general filth. From the glazed looks in their eyes, they were higher than a kite.
"I don't think so," Debby said, taking a step back toward the door. She felt a momentary clutch of fear at the back of her throat as the men looked at her. "Some other time, perhaps." She touched the handle of the torn screen door.
"He's in here," Amy said, as if she hadn't heard. "Come on in. He'll be glad to see you."
What child wouldn't? Debby thought, having these sub-humans around him all the time. Poor thing.
In spite of herself, Debby followed the woman down the darkened hall and into a bedroom on the far left. Each step of the way made her more and more depressed, determined that she wasn't going to take the job for any amount of money.
"She's here, baby," Amy said, pushing open the door. "Right on time."
To her shock, Debby found herself pushed into the bedroom, then heard the door slam behind her. She turned quickly and tried the knob, but the woman had already locked it from outside.
"Hey! Let me out of here! What's going on?" Debby demanded.
"Hello, Debby," a deep voice said from a darkened corner of the room. "Long time no see."
Debby whirled, and then touched her face as if she'd been slapped. Slowly, her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. It was Greg!
"Yeah, it's me," Greg said, getting off the bed and smiling at her. "Have I changed much? You sure have."
He had changed, Debby thought. He looked meaner, and now he sported tattoos on his meaty arms. He was wearing dirty jeans and a torn undershirt, smelled of stale beer and cigarettes. The spark of life was gone from his eyes, replaced by a worldly cynicism. His mouth, once etched with laugh lines, was set and bitter.
"Greg, I don't believe it," Debby whispered, again feeling fear claw at her mind. "I… I thought I was supposed to baby sit. Where is the, uh, baby?"
"I guess I'm the baby in question," Greg laughed humorlessly, getting off the bed.
"I have to leave," Debby said quickly, again trying the knob.
"Oh, no, baby," Greg said, walking over toward her, his arms hanging loosely at his sides, "we have old times to talk about. Like how you got me sent up."
"How was I to know he was going to ask all those questions?" Debby said, spluttering, casting a hunted look about the cluttered room. "I didn't mean to say those things."
"I saw your ad in the paper when I was looking for a part for my bike, and this opportunity just seemed too good to pass up," Greg continued, ignoring her protest.
"There's no… baby?" Debby asked, swallowing hard. "Then, why did you call?"
"To see you and do all those things again you told the judge about," Greg said, now standing in front of her.
"Let me go!" Debby shouted, clawing at the door, feeling the coppery taste of terror in the back of her mouth. "Don't you dare touch me, I'll call the police!"
"Like I really give a fuck." Greg roughly grabbed her. He bit down on her mouth like a striking cobra, then embraced her, grinding his crotch against hers. "Mmmmm, you have changed," he murmured, tasting the sweet flavor of her mouth. "All ripe and ready for the plucking, so to speak."
If Debby had had any affection for Greg, it all disappeared. This man was an animal, and, for some reason, he thought it was her fault that he'd been sent to jail. She tore away from him and spit, then rubbed her lips as if trying to erase the acrid taste of his mouth.
"Keep away from me," she demanded, feeling anger replace her fear. She lifted her hand as if to claw out his eyes. "I'm not kidding, Greg, I'll go to the police."
"So?" Greg laughed. "They already want me in Oklahoma. A little lady and I had a slight disagreement. Almost like what you and I are having right now. I had to shut her up."
"Wha-what are you going to do?" Debby asked, trembling.
"I'm gonna shut you up, too." Greg smiled a grimace like a vampire. "With this," he added, unzipping his jeans and flopping out his half-hard cock.
"No!" Debby screamed, throwing herself against the wall. She looked at his cock as if his prick were an instrument of torture. "I won't let you," Her face turned ashen with horror.
"Get your sweet ass over here, you little bitch," Greg said, grabbing her by her hair.