Free Working Sex by Annie Oakley Page A

personal to the political. We complained about Sandy Bitch, an older drag queen working our chat room who was famous for her show, which consisted of sticking a 14-inch by 5-inch dildo all the way up her ass. Sugar and I talked about how her anal acrobatics made work for us more difficult, made us have to deal with obnoxious men coming into our room, requesting we too shove gigantic dildos up our ass. We wondered if Sandy Bitch realized there were no advantages for her to engage in such spectacular acts, that she would still get paid the same amount as us, $25 an hour, and that there were no awards given annually to the Most Dilated Drag Queen Asshole in Cyberspace.
    I was already half an hour through my shift, and we were still bitching and bitching and bitching and getting closer. . . . A customer who went by the screen name of Mister Big noticed my lips were moving and asked if there was a party going on. “No,” I said, “but Sugar is here and she’s really, really pretty!” Well, I should have expected the obvious to follow “Hey, why don’t you girls give us a show?” and before I even had the time to die, a very excited Sugar grabbed me by the arm, started to jump up and down screaming “Oh yes, yes, yes, Janou! Let’s do a girlie show!” What could I say? “No, I am not attracted to femmes!” while
I have pre-cum flooding through my G-string? “Okay,” I said, trying to look professional and in control, “but first I need a stiffener so you go get me a root beer!”
    Well fuck the pop! There was only one thing on my mind when she came back in the room and you can be sure en Tabarnak it was her ass! She probably had some plans along the same lines ‘cause she pulled this black velvet blanket out of her satchel, spread it on the couch, and lay down on her stomach with her big bum sticking up like Mount Royal.
    I didn’t want to act like a dog and bite in right away so I started out cute by giving her a few nice, sweet, and gentle kisses on the neck. Oooooh, she liked that! Shivering skin, dramatic spasms, her spine moving like a snake, everything that’s always turned me right off in a girl was now turning me right on. And Sugar was such a girl that in comparison I felt like a big sweaty, clumsy, goofy football player.
    Eventually it got time to show some serious initiative and my true assets. I have a tiny wee-wee but I got quite a nose. If you don’t feel anything when I got my nose up your ass, then it’s time you get a new one ‘cause it’s dead! So I slowly slid my nose down down down the road to the brunch. First thing I did when I got there was to give it a few discreet sniffs, just to make sure. When I got the okay from the olfactory nerves, then I started licking her up and down the crack. And let me tell you that I didn’t have to say,
“Sésame Ouvre-toi!” Her cheeks opened up like automatic doors at No-Frills. I probably spent the next 15-20 minutes with my face in heaven. It was a tough gig, though, getting inside to my favorite part. Eh Marie-Madeleine, her hole was so tight I wondered if her shit came out like spaghetti. But once I got my tongue through . . . once I got my tongue through, it was like eating a cherry blossom except that the chocolate was inside.
    Well, all good things must come to an end and at some point Sugar shot her load and said “Goodbye!” Nothing lasts forever—that’s basic physics. But with every end comes a new beginning—that’s paganism 101. A few minutes after Sugar left, I rushed to the washroom to finally shit my heart out. And as I sat again on the throne repeating to myself “Girls don’t turn me on!” I wondered which, of the half dozen femme ones working our room, was up next on the schedule.

pimp
    Tre Vasquez
    I t’s funny to live your whole life thinking you can do anything or be anything you want because your mami and papi in some way or another taught you that. In between their long shifts working as waitresses or cooks, eating