Free The Poor Man's Girl (The Girls) by S R Vicente Page B

Sandra’s idle husband. Lifting her glass, she sipped away at her favourite Rioja and wondered what Sandra was up to. After having spent the morning with her, it was even harder to imagine how people could live like in this squalor.
    ********
     
    Sandra was sat on the edge of their unmade bed when Andrew attached the lead to the leather collar she was wearing round her neck.  Her head was down as she stared at the floor, wishing to be somewhere else.
    “Slut” he spat at her. She continued to stare at the floor as she visualised kicking him in the balls.
    “A dirty slut wife, that’s what you are,” he carried on. He grabbed her chin and pulled her face up to look at her.
    “You be good now you hear. Do as they say okay, they’re paying a lot of money for a piece of your arse so you show it to em.”
    She nodded staring straight at his pants zipper, wondering if a head butt would hurt. He would be there to watch as she earned him the extra money he needed.
    It was becoming a quite the regular little Saturday night feature, farming her out to randy men who were prepared to pay for her pussy and it was pretty good money which Andrew was so desperate for since he’d got them into so much debt.  After being out of work for so long, he owed money in every direction as he’d tried to fund his gambling and drinking habits.
    Being married to Sandra was the best thing he’d done in a long time, turning his hot little wife into quite the money spinning earner and he knew she secretly enjoyed it. He’d first started telling the guys down the pub his wife was a dirty whore who couldn’t get enough cock and it had all spread from there. Andrew made himself believe that if he didn’t make them pay for it, she’d probably be off somewhere doing it for free anyway. That was what he told himself every time he handed his slut wife over to clients.
    He heard banging at the front door, the doorbell still broken since they moved in two years ago. He pushed Sandra back onto their bed and put a hand round her neck, squeezing it. “You fuck them all good now you hear and this time, I wanna hear you scream like a slut okay!”
    She nodded. He could see her boobs were spilling out the tiny black bra he made her wear. It was her best one and she wore it with matching thongs. He felt himself grow hard looking down at her, her pale skin and firm thighs but he managed to pull himself off her most fuckable body.
    “Stay here.” he barked leaving her in their pokey bedroom as he walked the few steps to the front door. John, Deano carrying a plastic shopping bag full of beer and Simon all stood there waiting patiently. Andrew stepped outside and looked left and right, as though up to no good, which he wasn’t.
    “Come round the back, I got a fire going yeah!” He led them down the side of the house, deciding earlier that he didn’t want these men inside his house after all. As the night was cold, he had compromised on building a fire.
    Andrew let them in through a small wooden gate and locked it behind them in a feeble attempt at privacy. 
    “The cunt ready?” John asked. Deano laughed, sounding more like an overexcited teenage girl than a forty year old man.
    “She sure is. You all okay for drinks. I got some stuff if you like?” Andrew asked. Deano lifted the plastic bag.
    “Just bring out the Mrs yeah, we don’t got all night”, John said. Andrew nodded and disappeared inside. John lit a cigarette and Deano passed each of them a can of warm beer.
    “You met his bird before?” Deano asked. “Bitch better be like what he said, right!”
    “Yeah, I saw her a little whiles back, one of those stupid summer barbeques work used to put on. Nice piece of ass, small tits though. I could have fucked her then, specially if the Misses wasn’t with me,” John said. Deano laughed obnoxiously and Marie, now very intrigued at the conversation hotched forwards in her seat, hanging onto their every word.
    She decided the one called