Mike lay bundled under several blankets, recounting his morning incident to Henry, who lay beside him. Mike owed Henry a great deal. When he became homeless, he wandered Prague for several days, sleeping in various dangerous spots.
Once, he slept at the main train station and was nearly beaten by some young hooligans. Then, by chance, he met Henry during lunch at the Salvation Army. Henry, a man twenty years his senior, was a wreck—his son had died, and his wife had left him.
Henry offered Mike a place to stay in the alcove under the Barrandov Bridge. Mike accepted, and since then, they’d been helping each other. Mike contributed some money from his work, while Henry collected and cleaned wire insulation, selling the metal at a scrapyard.
Henry listened to Mike without interruption, then sat up and took a hearty swig of boxed wine.
“Honestly, that woman isn’t unknown among the homeless,” Henry began. “I haven’t met her myself, but if I did, I’d tell her to go to hell, the bitch.”
Mike felt a bit embarrassed by these words, realizing he had succumbed to her.
“Still, I’m not here to question what you did. That’s everyone’s own business. And fifteen dollars isn’t bad for a wank, right?” Henry continued.
“Do you know who she is?”
“I don’t. Do you?” Mike asked eagerly.
“I do, and for those fifteen, I’ll tell you,” Henry offered.
Mike would gladly give him the fifteen just to learn something about that rich bitch.
“Relax. I won’t ask you for money,” Henry said jokingly. “She’s the bitch of that wealthy businessman, Morris”
That was a bombshell. Mike knew Morris. When he was still selling houses, he was forced to sell his cottage outside Prague below market value to that asshole, who was well aware of his financial situation. Mike listened to the hum of passing cars, pondering whether he should show up at the promised meeting spot behind the supermarket tomorrow morning.
He didn’t have to work tomorrow, and a few extra dollars would come in handy, but what if that bitch wanted him to sleep with another man? He considered all possibilities, even the idea of trying to rob her. But he quickly dismissed that thought—her driver might kill him, and he’d lose the chance to safely collect from those lucrative dumpsters. So, he decided to go through with it. If she asked for something indecent, he’d just leave.
The old alarm clock woke Mike very early. He had to get ready for the meeting. He took shampoo, shaving supplies, and headed to Tesco mall, where he regularly washed up so no one at work would know he was homeless. In the restroom, he shaved, washed his hair, put on cologne, and dressed in better clothes. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he was a new man. He returned from Tesco to stash his things back under the bridge. Henry woke up and complimented his civilized appearance.
“Wait, but you don’t have work today. Is this because of that woman? Are you really going to her?” Henry asked, still groggy.
“Yeah, want to come with me?” Mike replied, laughing.
Today was even colder than yesterday, thought the freezing Mike as he waited behind the supermarket. It was almost nine. The lady still hadn’t shown up. Had she tricked him or simply forgotten? “I’m such an idiot,” Mike cursed himself, already considering going back under the bridge. His roommate would surely laugh at him. Mike was already shivering from the cold. He decided to wait a little longer. He walked around the unusually empty dumpsters, looking for the spot where he had ejaculated the day before.
Then, a horn sounded. Mike looked toward the parking lot and saw, to his disbelief, a long black limousine. He stared at it in confusion, and since the windows were tinted, he couldn’t see who was inside. He hesitantly approached it.
The driver’s window rolled down, and the driver gestured for him to hurry. Mike ran toward the limo, cursing himself again. He reached the car, and the doors opened. Inside, a dark-haired, unknown woman invited him in. Without hesitation, he got in.
The limo started moving. Inside, it was pleasantly warm, so Mike immediately took off his jacket. The seats were very comfortable and heated. Only now did he look around the interior of the vehicle and immediately noticed the bar on the right. It was made of dark wood and even had a fridge. Pure luxury for the rich.
“He doesn’t look like a bum,” said the unknown brunette sitting across from him.
“But he is, I saw him rummaging through trash bins, hehe,” replied the giggling lady.
Both women looked stunning. The lady, with her blonde hair, today adorned with sunglasses and delicate purple eyeshadow, looked amazing again. She had swapped her cigarette for a glass of champagne. Her companion was a mystery to Mike.
Probably some high-society friend. However, based on what she was wearing, she looked more like a prostitute. A long, furry coat, from which a red bra peeked out, paired with stockings and heels, didn’t suggest good morals.
“Pour yourself some champagne,” the lady urged her poor guest.
Mike opened the fridge and took out a bottle, from which someone had already drunk a significant portion. The brunette, who looked about eight to ten years younger than the lady, pressed her face against her older friend’s blue blouse and giggled. Maybe because she saw a homeless man with a glass of champagne traveling in a limo, or maybe she was just dumb.
The lady placed her hand on her thigh and smiled slightly at Mike. He was somewhat on edge but tried to remain calm. He made sure, for example, that his hand holding the glass didn’t tremble when he drank. He just hoped to get through whatever these two whores had planned for him, get the money, and leave.
“What’s your name?” the lady finally broke the awkward silence.
“Mike.”
“And where do you currently reside, Mike?” the lady asked with a hint of irony.
As soon as she finished her question, the brunette clinging to the lady burst into laughter.
“Under the bridge,” Mike answered truthfully, and the brunette’s laughter gained new strength.
The lady also widened her smile but maintained a certain tact. Mike would have loved to strangle that dark-haired bitch. Her stupid laugh… She looked like a damn street whore herself.
“Will you tell us under which one? Maybe we’ll come visit you sometime.”
“Under the Nusel Bridge,” Mike lied, as the ride in this female company was becoming very unpleasant.
“That’s where the suicides jump,” the brunette remarked, rather unnecessarily.
Mike noticed how the lady was stroking her companion’s thigh, her hand moving higher and higher, disappearing under the coat.
Then came the question he feared:
“Mike (she almost reveled in pronouncing his name), when was the last time you had sex with a woman?”
Mike hesitated before answering. It was getting really hot, perhaps because the brunette had started reciprocating the lady’s caresses. She lowered her head to her friend’s blouse-covered breasts and gently stroked her black boots.
Finally, Mike mustered an answer:
“Six months ago.”
It was the truth. He remembered that day well. He had been considering whether to kill himself or go out on the street. And for the last time, he decided to splurge. He went to a brothel and spent the whole day there, seven hundred dollars. That day, he went through seven whores and ejaculated about twenty times. He fondly remembered his time with Naomi, the Namibian bitch, whom he took last, and anally.
As soon as he came inside her, he was overcome with terrible sadness. His 24 hours in brothel paradise were over, and he would be mercilessly thrown back onto the street. He remembered crying, still with his dick in her black ass, collapsing on the bed, and his paid black lover comforting him, even though it wasn’t in her job description or even paid for.
“And you don’t even masturbate?” the brunette snapped Mike out of his thoughts.
“Sometimes.”
“Would you masturbate for us, Mike?” the lady asked in a lewd voice.
“How much would I get?”
“Hmm… twenty dollars?”
Twenty dollars wasn’t bad, but Mike decided to haggle:
“Thirty dollars. What do you say?”
The two bitches looked at each other, and the lady declared for both:
“Okay, thirty, but you have to cum into the champagne glass, and when I tell you to stop, you stop, until I allow you to continue.”
Mike finished his champagne, placed the glass beside him, and pulled his pants down to the floor. He waited for the signal to start. He didn’t feel as humiliated as the first time.
The brunette took off her coat and began kissing the lady’s neck. A moment later, the two were passionately but slowly kissing. It was clear they’d had some lesbian encounters before. Mike’s penis began to rise from the sight, which the glancing lady surely noticed.
Mike was so aroused that he didn’t even consider whether these lesbian whores would make him swallow his own semen. Only when the lady was stripped of her blouse and her firm breasts were revealed did Mike receive the order to start masturbating.
He pulled his foreskin over the head slowly. This was his biggest arousal in the last six months, and he wanted to enjoy it a bit. He felt wonderful. For a moment, he forgot his subordinate position and felt like a rich man keeping these two whores. After the necessary licking of the lady’s breasts, the brunette reached into the seat compartment and pulled out a golden vibrator.
The lady spread her legs as much as her tight black skirt allowed. Mike then saw her smooth pussy, which had been hiding in the shadows. The masturbating man now didn’t know which of the two whores aroused him more, as the petite brunette, kneeling before the lady in just stockings, was also very arousing. But in the end, the lady won when she put on her dark glasses and let her colleague insert the vibrator into her hole.
Mike was ordered to stop. How he wished he could continue. You shouldn’t leave a job half-done. His penis pulsed with the beats of his heart, and pre-ejaculate was leaking from his urethra. The lady noticed this and ordered her companion to go to his penis and bring back some of the clear liquid.
The brunette, clearly aroused, didn’t hesitate, left the vibrator in the hole, and crawled on all fours to the erect cock. Mike wasn’t sure if, during the clumsy collection of nectar, his penis might decide to produce a dose of white semen. So, he looked out the window instead of at the young, aroused brunette. They were slowly leaving the city behind.
The brunette made a loop with her fingers and squeezed the pre-ejaculate from the bottom up. It lazily spread over the purple glans, where it was then, due to its consistency, difficult to collect into her fingers. Once the stocking-clad bee had collected as much as she could, she headed back to her queen on the opposite seat.
The lady was already impatiently waiting for her return and eagerly licked the offered treat from her fingers. Mike, now out of the game, watched as the lady, leaning against the seat, reached a loud orgasm and arched her back. Only now was he allowed to continue. The lady ordered her faithful worker to take the vibrator, now sticky with vaginal juices, to the masturbating passenger.
The young whore obeyed, and in a moment, Mike had the entire vibrator in his mouth. He blissfully licked the juices from the warm vibrator.
This was the final trigger for him to ejaculate. He grabbed the glass, his body leaned forward, and the remnants of champagne mixed with warm semen. Both women were clearly pleased, but Mike was not.
“Please, don’t let them make me drink it!”
Fortunately, his fears were unfounded. The brunette took the glass and added the rest of the champagne from the chilled bottle. The champagne bubbled beautifully, and Mike watched as his white clumps slowly sank to the bottom. The lady took the cocktail from the brunette and, with her gaze fixed on Mike, downed it in one go. The white, interconnected, heavy clumps slowly entered her mouth, like a train entering a tunnel.
Once the lady had finished, she knocked on the driver’s partition, and the limo began to slow down. Then, through her assistant, she handed Mike his payment for the day and said:
“And now you’re getting out, Mike.”
Mike was stunned; they had taken him so far outside Prague.
“Wait… Me? Here? Take me back…”
But he received an uncompromising response:
“Yes, here. Out! NOW!”
Mike still hesitated to get out, so the lady threatened:
“Should I call the driver for help?”
Only then did Mike begin to move toward the door. When he opened it, the familiar cold and unwelcoming gust of wind hit him again.
“And when will we see each other again?” he asked almost pleadingly as he stood outside.
“I’ll find you. Maybe when I’m in the mood,” the lady declared arrogantly, just before her companion closed the door.
The limo immediately sped off and soon disappeared into the distance. Once again, Mike watched it until it was out of sight.