Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 {Skipping at least a decade, or 2.  Sorry?  Not really missing all that
much, but a failed relationship, and literal years pining over a "Broken
Heart." Skip it, but this is all adult action, after the Lolidom grew up.}

   ;

   Ivana {Alias}

   My name is not important, I prefer no names, but I guess it's true.  I'm
a slut, I went to school, I know what they mean by it, and I refused to be
shamed for my sexual appetite.  It's a healthy appetite, but unfortunately
people, by which I mean men, judge me, and then make all these wrong
assumptions.  I'm a "Rich bitch," as well.  Which is to say professional, I
have a degree, and make good money, on my own.  Without a man, I don't need
to depend on them, to earn a living, knock me up, and give some meaning to
my life.  I just need to fuck one, every once in a while.  However, they
try to take over, insist on taking me out to dinner, or whatever.  You like
the opera?  Because I got tickets!

   I don't have time for that.  For hours of someone singing in Italian,
sitting and listen to them talk about their stock portfolio, or fantasy
sports team, finally get home for maybe 5 minutes in the sack, and find out
if they want to stay the night, or not.  I don't have time for any of that,
I have a libido.  I tried pleasuring myself, bought toys, and while they
feel all right, they don't satisfy what I really want.  A good fuck.  Is
that too much to ask?  Just a good fuck, without all the attempts at
seduction.

   I suppose I was spoiled.  In college I got lucky, a lot.  Sex was new,
and exciting, I liked it a lot, and it just wasn't all that hard to get. 
College boys, they know what they want, hell they'll rape you if you give
them half a chance, but I didn't.  I got condoms, learned how to use them,
and fucked them.  Whenever I want, but then I left.  Graduated, got a
degree, and started working, for myself.  I thought the course load was
stressful!  Finals?  Yeah, that's nothing compared to interning, being sent
for coffee, and lunch, AND having assignments to take care of, I finally
hauled off, and fucked a guy at work.

   Just some guy, I didn't care.  I just found out, for finals, that
nothing clears my head like a good hard fuck.  He was there, he flirted
with me something fierce, there was an empty office we could get into, and
we did it.  Big mistake.  Office romance?  Well, that's not what it was, he
thought it was.  That I finally gave into his charms, and loved him, but
no. I needed it, he was there, then he made it impossible to work there. 
So, I got him fired.  Sexual harassment, that's exactly what it was, don't
think that 1 quicky on break constitutes a relationship.

   I told him to stop, warned him, everyone in the building saw and heard
about, eventually he had to go.  Thank god he never found out where I live,
I moved anyway, but what is it, exactly about sex, then makes men stupid,
and emotional like that?  I was there, it wasn't beautiful, it was just a
quick office fuck.  On the desk, he wasn't even that good at it.  Made me
do all the work, felt up my bra a lot, and that's about it.  It certainly
wasn't worth getting stalked, harassed, propositioned, and groped on a
daily basis for weeks, and that didn't help me at work.

   But, I got some vacation days, and I had to move, without any of that
stress, and fear that he'd finally snap.  Go psycho, and finally try to
hurt me, or kill me, because I don't love him.

   "Wh!" I see it's going to take a lot to get over that.  I usually have
more control over my emotions, but there's a boy, in my building.  Oh,
don't even think that, he's 18, or 19, moved out on his parents and
everything, but I hadn't gotten any for weeks.  He was always so nice, and
respectful, even though he obviously looked at me, and thought about me. 
Romantically, or sexually, it doesn't really matter, he's willing, and I'm
moving, so it may be his last chance.  To get with me, so he'll be willing.

   No strings attached.  I have time for a boyfriend, for about a week.  9
days, a workweek, and 2 weekends, but then, I have to go back to work, and
I didn't mean to break his heart.  I told him, from the beginning, just
sex, then I'm gone, but he helped me move, and get over being stalked and
harassed at work.  I needed it, he got feelings for me anyway, and in the
end, I had to break his heart.  "Huh!" Men.  My theory is they're never
taught to deal with emotions, as adults.  It's "Not manly," so in some ways
a lot of them are still childishly immature, when it comes to romantic
feelings.

   I'm not, I just can't afford them.  Money's not the issue, I don't work
for money either, I certainly don't want to marry up, and owe him kids for
the rest of my life, I even got my tubes tied.  I don't have the time, I
can't afford to just lay around, and wait for things to happen.  I don't
have it in me, I have to stay busy, and work off all this energy I seem to
have been born with.  Keeps me fit?  Guys think I'm nervous on dates,
because I fidgit.  No, I fidget because I have to sit still, and I can't
stand sitting still.

   "Relax." He's nervous.  On my couch, and sweaty from helping me move
boxes, but I kiss him anyway.  When I just want to fuck, but we have to do
these thing first, for some reason.  To get him in the mood, he wants to
kiss, and he turns out to be pretty good at it, when really it just gives
me something to do with my mouth while I get his pants open, and pull it
out.

   "Huh!" Hard.  "Take off your shirt."

   It's, a penis.  Ask me why I need it so, but I need it, so much, and
barely able to get my sweat pants down with my underwear.  "Put this on."
I'm wet, enough.  I have lube, and he has a tongue, but thankfully, we
don't have to stop for that.  Just a quick suck to get him wet, pull it out
so there's a little to slip back and forth, then climb on, and get him
inside me.

   "Huh!" It's not even a particularly large one.  Or small, it's enough.
He gets my shirt up, I dressed for moving.  Dust, and even some mold I
didn't know about in the corner, because I must have spilled something, and
it flowed back in the corner, but "Uhh!" Finally, I had him inside me.  And
I don't care, about anything, like this.  It's nice for a change, a few
moments, I don't even care about being satisfied.  I don't get this enough.
"Huhhhh!" Didn't even wear a bra, and he noticed.  Not that I was trying to
turn him on, I thought about it, but it's my time off.

   My much needed time off, no bra, no makeup, no clothes to look
professional, just comfort, and time to enjoy it.  A good fuck, that's all
I needed to get my head back in the game, is a good fuck.

   PLP!  "Uh!" PLP "Huh!" Shaking my breats in his hands, and hopping to
withdraw enough.  I suppose about half, or not even that, but just enough
to sink back down, and feel him stab deep inside me, again, and again.  He
can't go any deper, with my bottom splashing in my lap, but that feels
magnificent too, and I don't want to stop.  Find a better position for
deeper penetration, just fuck.  Him, harder, and faster, to make up for the
depth, and I get a little, ripple up to my deadend if he can't reach it
directly, but "Ohh, yes!" Huh!

   I needed this, a man.  Any one will do, but that's why a dildo won't do
it.  Even a vibrator, or some high tech gizmo with a vibrating clit brush,
and a butplug.  It' not about the dick, I love it, his is plenty, but
that's not it.  All of it, I need a man attached, with hands, and arms, and
sweat, even a little muscularute in his chest, and don't think I didn't
notice.  He works out, I don't know where, no weights in his apartment, but
he has a bike, gets dressed up in short shorts to show off his hard hairy
legs, a tank-top that hangs out enough I could catch delightful little
peeks in the side.  See the muscle, and even a nipple.

   All right guys, we look too.  I know all the clothes, and stories, and
movies, and advertizing focuses on the women, but we're not just.  Fuck
dolls to be appreciated, and obediently lay down whenever the mood takes
you.  I'm a feminist, there I said it.  That means we can be honest about
it.  I look, at young guys, never did anything about it while we're in the
same building, but now that I'm moving, I can appreciate what I've always
looked on, and wanted.  He has a great body, really nice strong hands, with
rough fingers, and a nice firm pillow, or two on his chest.  With small
hard dark nipples with a few hairs curling out around them.

   Not a lot, I don't really care one way or another, there's definitely
too hairy, and I even been with some who shaved.  Their chest, he has a
little in the middle too, but it's something extra.  A little more to play
with, twirl with my fingers, and hold up to his face.  His lips, his mouth.
"Sock them, get them wet.  Hh, yeah." I switched hands, and rubbed my
fingertips while he sucked the other 2.  On my thumb, so they're wet enough
to slip on his nipple.  Then his nipples, both of them.

   "Oh yeah, that's good." He closed his eyes, but that's another thing. 
Men have nipples too.  They work, just like nipples.  You don't have to
have tits behind them, in fact it's a lot easier in the corners of some
nice strong chest muscles so they don't roll around, and slip out of the
way.

   "Ohhhn," he swallowed, "Ngh!  Huh!"

   I stopped, closed my eyes, to feel it.  "Yup." Nodded.  He twitched,
inside me.  Filled up the rubber.  "Huh!" I got up.

   "But," he sat up, "You didn't get off?"

   "I don't have to," I cleared my head, "I'm satisfied."

   "Well I'm not."

   "Look, son."

   "Just hear me out, all right?  Huh!  I don't, I didn't agree to help you
to get layed.  That was great, but I don't want to just blow a load and go,
like.  I don't know what kinds of guys you're used to, but if we're going
to do it.  Huh!  I want to get you off.  More than anything, I want to feel
you, your orgasm, taste it, and leave you completely satisfied.  That's sex
to me.  Huh!  I love the female orgasm." He looked so excited!  "More than
anything, that's what I want.  You don't even have to pay me for this, if I
can make you cum."

   "Seriously." He just nodded.  "Huh!" I don't know what to say, "Well,"
that doesn't sound too bad, "Uh.  Don't you have to recover, or something?"
He did just get off, still hanging out, in the full rubber.

   "Not to taste you."

   "You mean." Oral sex, of course.  I don't.  No, I do.  In fact, have
time for this.  "Huh!  You can try it.  If it means that much to you, but
honestly, that doesn't get me off." It never did.

   "I don't care, I want to, taste you.  It'll help me get it up again."

   "Fine," I pulled my feet out of my sweats, and the top off.  Just an old
teeshirt, if I hadn't bought it myself, you'd never know what the logo was
before it dried out, and flaked off.

   "Oh!"

   "What?"

   "It's beautiful!"

   "What, my."

   "Huh!  Just come here.  Snh!  Huh!" He was so excited, and his breath
between my legs, felt rather nice as well.  "Huhlumhuh!"

   "Oh!" Ask me what he did different.  I don't know, I even tried it with
girls.  Lesbians, never even turned me on, before.  You would think, they'd
be better at it than some kid that didn't even make it into college, but
"Oh!  Fugh!"

   "Yeah, slugh!"

   "Huh!" My knees went weak, so I bumped my forehead, and his face came
out from between my legs.  "Ngh, khuh!" I cleared my throat, and swallowed
it.  "Huh!  Cummon." I helped him up, and took him by the hand, to my bed.

   For the first time, it wasn't just to get me wet.  Quickly, I can do
that myself, but it can take a while to run out.  But this, it wasn't as
good as fucking, but.  "Mmh!" God, he was good at it.  "Mrrh!  Yeah.  Nh!
Just, uh!  Kepp, huh!" I couldn't talk.  I'm not normally, much of a
talker. I feel lucky enough just to get layed often enough, but I just
wanted to encourage him?  "Ohyeah, don't stop!  Huhn!" My hips bucked, all
by themselves.  Which made him stop, find it again, I just couldn't help
it. I didn't want to stop him, make him have to start over, I just couldn't
control my hips.

   So, I put my legs down.  Spread wide, so I couldn't.  It wasn't very
comfortable, but I couldn't move, if I wanted to.  I even got a cram, or
both sides, my buttocs clenched so hard they ached.

   When he sucked me off.

   "HAH AHHHH, NYAHHH!  Fugh!" I had to put my legs up, to stretch out the
cramps, but, "OOOOOHH!" Even that felt fantastic, the releif!  "Hah!" But
that ment bucking again, but he had his finger in me then, and it was like
fucking, enough like fucking, and his fingers scrubbed so hard on my clit,
I didn't even finish the first one before.

   "NGH?  NhaaAAEEIGH YAGH!" Fuck!  "Fuck?  Yes, yeas
yeanyeahyeahyeheyehyeh augh!"

   Finally it was over.  "Huh!" For a seccond, "Huh!" there, i "Huh!" Just
wanted it to end.  But he held me, and kissed me, and gently fondled my
heaving burning chest.  "Hih hihn him!" I nodded, "Where on earth did you
ever learn to fuck like that?"

   "From you?" He kissed my cheek, and licked, a tear.  I'm crying?

   "Snh?"

   I'm weeping!  He fucked me until I cried.

   "Huh!"

   "There's no trick to it, I just.  Wanted to please you so much.  So," he
shrugged, "I did." Like it was nothing.

   It was not nothing.

   "I guess you felt that passion too."

   "Huh!" Shouldn't have said that: "I could get used to this." But I
kissed him.  For a moment, I thought I felt some of that 'passion.' He
called it.  Suck a silly concept, but he's young, idealistic, and one hell
of a good fuck.  And suck, in bed.

   I had time, for that.  A little, breifly, but then I had to go back to
my life.  And he had his to get on with, it never would have worked, but
that's why I did it to him.  I am sorry, I led him on, and maybe implied
that it might continue.  Longer, than I needed him, just those few
wonderful days we had together before I had to break his heart.

   I'm sorry, but it's better some day.  I hope some day he can understand,
and forgive me.

   ;

   Jerve' (FM IR Pros)

   I was just on the corner, starting on my first cup of coffee, talking to
the guys.  Like any day, there is not much work, more guys than jobs, but
if you don't go there, and wait, you don't get any.  We need the money, I
have a family, at home too, and times are tough.  It is not enough, day
labor, I could get more at one of the offices, but I do not have all the
papers they want.

   I am American, Mexican, but American.  I have a green card, but that is
not all they want for me to prove it at Manpower, Kelly, or even Labor
Ready.  These things take money too, which is better spent on my family. 
So, we stand behind the gas station, where we are welcome, and we wait, for
work.

   "You speek English?"

   "Yes," I say first, and walk up to her car.  The rest of the guys lined
up behind me, "How many, do you need?"

   "Just one, you'll do." I had to lean down, to see her in her expensive
German sedan.  Leather seats, money, or married to money, very nice gold
watch, like a bracelet instead of a jewel, but set off by stones in the
chain around her wrist.  She checked it, and pulled on the shift lever. 
"Well, get in."

   I took off my belt, and left it under my legs, careful not to scratch,
or scrape her seat with my tools, and closed the door.

   "What sort of work?"

   "Oh, I'm moving.  Well, I moved, but there's still some heavy furniture
out of place I need a little help with."

   "How long?"

   "Shouldn't be but a couple hours, is $50.00 all right?"

   "Yes," more would be better, but for a couple hours, I could head back,
and wait for more work.

   "Have you been drinking?"

   "No." I held up my thermos, "Is coffee." We pulled up to a light, so she
held down the break.  "Let me smell your breath."

   "Huh?"

   She just nodded, turned back to the light.  "Good, I saw your amigos,
with a case of buds." Green, so she drove out.

   "They are drunks," but my friends, "But they have to work." With steady
hands, "They have to drink, o get the shakes."

   "I understand, but I prefer you are sobor, for this." She winked.

   "It is far?"

   "Not that far, but.  Yes, I have an apartment.  It isn't downtown." Best
corner, were there is the most work, is downtown.  "You are from Mejico?"

   "Yes, La Pesca."

   "Where is that?"

   "The gulf coast, between Tampico, and Brownsville Texas."

   "Is that where you crossed over?"

   "The border?  No, we wen through Monterrey, and Laredo."

   "How long have you been here, in the states."

   "6 year." Nearly seven.

   "Your English is very good."

   "Oh, we speak English.  At home, es Spanish too, but we have Touristas,
on the golf coast, so close to Texas, and south padre island."

   "Oh."

   That, conversation, ended.  We did not talk, after that, until we were
there.  At her apartment, but not like an apartment Complex.  A building,
like the high rizes downtown, but not downtown.  Almost the suburbs.  "This
is, a hotel?" By the lobby, it looks like a hotel.

   "It was a hospital building.  Then the hospital moved, you know
Presbyterian, over by the highways?"

   "Yes, my nieces and nephew were born there."

   "Are you married?"

   "Divorced." Money, it is always money, here.

   "I never married.  I don't have the time, normally, but." The elevator
came.  "Huh!  Sometimes, I need a man around the house."

   The door closed, and I turned around.  Brought my tool belt, but just
held it, but she grabbed me, and felt mi culo.

   "Uh," I step back, against the wall, and hold my tools up.  "What is?"
In front of my, but she just put my hands down, with hers, and I could not
back away, any further.

   "Hhuh!" I turned away, so she only kissed my cheek.  "I'm sorry, I must
be getting, mixed signals."

   I nodded, and stepped around to the corner, but it felt tight, and
confining in there.  Alone, with her.  "Is okay." But I came to work, and I
do not know her.  American women, I do not know them.  Very well, they are
different, and she is rich.  She has money, but "I am not a whore."

   "Okay?" Finally the door open, and I have my tools on, "It's right down
here." She has her keys out.  Does no say anything, at the door, until I
follow her in, and she close it.  "I'm sorry.  I don't know what came over
me, but." She bit her lip, "I'm sorry.  I don't want to make you
uncomfortable."

   I look around, but is mostly boxes.  Half empty, everywhere, and the
furniture she mention, but covered with things, pull out of boxes.  None of
it looks to heavy for her to move her self, and it will not be easy, with
all those things piled on top of it.  "Okay," don't mention it, "This?" I
patted the couch.

   "Well, we can start there." I pick up a lamp, which is safe where it is,
but can roll, when we move it.  "Just put that, over there on the side
table."

   In the corner, by it self, so not on the side of anything, but I have to
move things to make a place for it.  Without it falling, it is like a vase,
only with a lamp in top instead of water and flower.  I plug it in the
outlet, while she dig in a box and unwrap the top of it.  "There," she
screw it on, but it is glass, and metal, like the windows at church, and
very fragile.

   "Oh." She does not stop.  This time, she touch my back, with her chest,
but is no accident.  "I like you," she clear the couch.  "Mexican
Americans. Push it back.  To the walls in the corner, and step aside, where
I can see it.  Yes, that will do.  Now, help me with this couch."

   I have work, in places that are loud, and dirty.  So full of smoke, or
dust we have to wear masks.  Even for the sewage company, before my Visa
expire, and I lose that job.  It is, one of these things, you put up with
for work.

   "I have racist friends, or co-workers, actually.  I wouldn't associate
with them otherwise, but I respect you.  Especially, they call you lazy,
but every Mexican American I know, or have worked with, you are all so
loyal, hard working, and make white Americans look lazy in comparison."

   "Yes?" In Mexico, we no have Sex Harassment.  That is a Mericon thing,
there a man desire a woman, let her know, and she let him know she
appreciate it.  How I met my wife, or ex wife, but she want the American
Dream.  She have that, mi employer.  Today.

   "Nh!  Thanks." She sit on the arm, as she did over there, and "Bring me
that box." Pointed.  On the coffee table, "And go ahead and pull the table
over her to." Put the box down on the couch.

   But, "Uh!?" I bump inot her.  Did no know she was there, behind me, to
bump into.

   "Oh!  Hehuhah!" She push me, mi culo, and get out of the way, but was no
on accident.  I would not have, had she not stood there, got in the way to
bump my culo.  And touch it again, pushing me back, but.

   "Huh!" I just turn around, and sit down.  "$200.00."

   "What?  That's exorbident.  $50.00."

   "You offor mi fifty for helping you move, no for sex."

   I am no whore, but she treat me like one.

   "Aheuhuaha!  Who said anything about sex?"

   "You do.  You no say it, but I know whores.  I am no whore, but if you
want to treat me as one.  Then I need more money."

   "I ment $50 more."

   I have heard.  There are women, like these.  Here, and in Mexico, who
like man whore.  Why there is man whore, and Putos.

   "One honred, fifty."

   "Deal." I am not Puto.  Homosexual, either.  I know, have friends, and
cousin.  Who is, but she is no man.  Ahe is woman, with money, and I need
the money.  Is worth a hundred, the fifty is worth the time, but $100.00
can go to my family, in Mexico.  Is a lot of money there.  "I just, need a
little atention.  Come here, take your tools off."

   I think I even hear of her.  Stories, the men talk.  Make up story, I
never believe in this one.  But you hear of men find work, and this.  A
little extra money, on the side.  I am no whore, but.  Is good money, and
she is.  Good looking, for a blanca.  Anglo woman, I prefer a good Mexico
woman.  Like she say, loyal, hard working, like me.  She is lazy, but
honest.  Americon white Americans are lazy, and call us lazy.

   Just close my eyes.

   "Yumwmwmwn!  Smp!  Hah!" I no even, do anything.  She do, she make me
feel.  Like a woman, this bother me.  I am a man, and man do this.  Whore
work, is work, man do to.  I am a whore, now, but is no it.

   She do, the man part.  Like a dance, she lead, and now.  I understand,
better.  Before, is no work.  Sex for money, is no hard, yes?

   "What's wrong, don't you like it?"

   "Yes." No.  Is work.  I no like work, but I work.  I must.  Is no easy
as you think.

   Try to think of something.  Sexy for her, to stand up for her.  Give her
what she want, so I can go.  Yes, nice loyal hard working Mexico woman. 
Not a money loving whore with a ring.  Me exo.  The whore, she may be
working now, stand on the corner, and wait to get pick up by a man, the
mens, like the whore she is.

   The whore I am now.

   "Mhn spb!"

   I do no know, why that work.  It does, I do, have it stand up for her,
and her pants down now.

   "Come here, stud."

   On the couch, still cover with her things, but she push the box off.  So
there is a place, on the end.  She lay back, pull her legs out, and drop
her pants.  Her underwear, and her smell.

   She smell strong, of sex.  I need that, yes I can stay up now.  "Snh!"
She smell like woman, any woman, here or there.  Sex.

   "Huh!  Get me wet." Pulling my face, her fingers in my hair, then my
head.  Down.

   I do this, for money.  I am a whore.  I am a whore!

   "Myum!"

   I do this for my wife, she already wet.  I do no need, my tongue, my
spit to make her wet.  But I am the whore, and she is my boss.  I have to
earn my money.

   I have not felt, this young, in sex, for a long time.  Is like, when I
first start, seeing women, and thinking about them.  Naked, kissing them,
hugging their breast, and sex.  The first time, always the best.  This is
the best.  Better than, the first time I am a whore.

   She make me a whore.  Her whore.  It is hard, at first.  But then, it no
feel like work.

   "Huh!" She push me off.

   "Is okay?"

   "Yeah, get on the table.  And hand me my purse." She take off her shirt,
and bra.  and dig around in her purse.

   I pull it, a la verga, for the sex.  She is, sexy now.  Pale, under the
clothes, verry white, but so I see, every line, every shadow in her body
better.  Yes, she is sexy.  I can do this, is no like work.

   I am a Whore!

   "Put this on."

   A condom, I do not like them, but I am her whore, and.  She have sex,
with whores.  Manwhore, Putos.  So, is good idea, and she have my money.

   "You're the boss.  Miss."

   "No names."

   "Okay."

   "Shut up and let me think."

   Just nod, I no need to do, anything.  She suck my, more to get it wet,
but quick, and spit.  Wipe it around with her hand, but then she stand up.

   "Over here," She turn, my legs.  On the corner, where the box was, but
there is, cloth, and blankets.  Winter blanket on top, so I put my head up.

   "Ah!" She just sit down.  "Whohoohuhu!" Shakes, and giggles.  Attencion!
Stand up proud, salute, where he belong.  Mi soldier, me verga, "Huh, uh
huh!"

   She is no, skinny white woman.  She has, some.  Not like a good Mexico
woman, but mi boss.  She shook it, good.  Enough for what he has, no her
fault, but enough.  To watc, and feel, bouncing flat, and flexing tight. 
"Ngh!" Gripping, and relaxing, "Huh!" slipping down tight, then let go,
push up to grip, and sink back down on me verga.  Me puto verga.  Whore
penis.

   I am a whore.  I wonder, does she.  No, if she is, the woman I hear
about.  The rich one, with the silver mercedes, that pick up worker for
sex. May be why she, maybe she likes Carne Espana?

   "Uh!" No?  "I am sorry."

   "Uhuh!  No." she get up, then down.  "Huh!  Hihn!" Just pant on the
floor, "Just let me catch my breath.  That was great."

   "You no." Some, white American woman.  I date, some like latinos, she
does.  But some hold their breath, and I no always feel when they do, even
without this.  Disgusting plastic thing.  "Ugh!" I hate them.

   "Go get cleaned up." She got up, on her knees, but pulled up her sweat
pants.

   "Show me the bathroom?" I hold mine up, there is a toilet, to throw the
semenfish out.  Also, they call us dirty.  Dirty Mexican, because I am
brown.  It is not us that fill the gulf with garbage.  The rio, del norte,
they call Grand.  It is no Juarez, is Elpaso that fill it with shit, and
piss, garbage, and chemical.  I will no swim in it, but they blame it on
ES. Estados, not US.  United States.  They blame us, because they are
dirty, and lazy, and theives.  They steal from the whole world, and borrow
too.  Build a fence, then a wall, and demand we pay for it.

   We no want your stinking wall.  Your stinking river, we take your jobs,
your work, you give away, then blame us for taking your jobs.  See how that
work?

   Ameica is liars.  Everyone, because you all grow up, believe in that
lie. Well, this is the truth: You are everything you call us, and we are
everything you are not.

   So, yes.  I will fuck your woman, and take your money.  May be, some
day, the taxes in Mexico will pay for your stupid wall, but don't hold your
breath.  Take a swim in your shit river, and hold your breath for that.

   I am your whore, but you can blame you for that as well.

   I just need to make a living.

   ;

   "Ivana." (FM IR Work/Pros.)

   "Huh!" When will men learn it's not about the finish line?  He fucks
like a racehorce, short, thick.  Nice big fat uncircumcized burritto dick,
but always in a rush to get there first.

   So, I'm satisified, for now.  I got what I needed out of the way, so we
can get on with work.  Next time, I'll throw in another bill, but only if
he takes his time.

   That's what it's about, for me.  What I'm paying him for, his time.  The
more time fucking, the more I get to enjoy it.

   He'll learn, but this stuff isn't moving itself in.

   "What Is your name?"

   "No names." Deal breaker.  "Huh!  Miss will do, if you have to call me
something, but you don't.  Have to call me, anything.  It's just the two of
us, I don't have a room mate, boyfriend, husband, or kids, I find it
simplifies my life."

   "Yes," he nods, "It would."

   "Would you like a break?" All cleaned up, "Is that your lunch?" Brown
bag, rolled up, and stuffed in his tool pouch.

   "Yes, but I am not hongrey.  You have more work to do?"

   "Yes," how about the bedroom, "This way." Upstairs, or more of a loft,
but that's the price to pay for the vaulted ceiling, which really opens it
up, and makes it fl larger, or sound larger with the echos of our voices. I
can entertain, once I move in, and clean up the place, he is a good worker.

   "You like, Whores?  Man whores, what is the word?"

   "Maricon?"

   "In Englace, and that is homosexual.  You mean Puto."

   "Help me with the dresser."

   "Where is?" He looks around.

   I decided, "In the corner, sideways, nh.  Yeah, back it up."

   "Like this." He sets it down.

   So, "Yeah," put my hip into the side, and scoot it over.  "Now, go
around the bed, and help me slide it over." Not really room for it, and the
side table up here.  And actually open the drawers, and walk around, get
dressed.

   "Hhn!  Yeah." Set it down.

   "You are strong."

   "For a woman?"

   "Well, for a.  Woman of money."

   "I didn't come from money, I worked hard, and I earn it." I nodded, "I
know what you think, about us rich bitches, but that's in general.  And
you'd be right, for most of us.  I'm just not most women."

   "Why you like.  Whores?"

   "Oh.  Giggalos," kinda changed the subject.

   "Yes." that's the word, en Englace.  "Why them?"

   "Well, like I said, I work hard.  To compete with men, it ain't easy
because they run things, and have all the money."

   "No.  not all themoney."

   "Huh!" Wasn't expecting he'd finish that sentence like that.

   "Well, finance is complicated, and boring to talk about, but in
economics the vast majority is enough.  As far as Wealth, and Power are
concerned, that's enough to be all of it, for practical purposes."

   "Like democracy."

   "Yeah, if you count a dollar as a vote, then the 90% in the hands of the
top 10% of wealth just outvote the 90% of people, with only a tenth the
amassed wealth.  So, for marketing, for instance you have Car Commercials,
on your novellas?

   "Well, I don't watch the stories, I'm out looking for work, by my famly
does."

   "Right, but you've had days off, been sick or injured, and got pulled in
by the aunts and cousins."

   "Pretty much."

   "Yeah, well how many mexican Americans come here to buy a Lexus?"

   "Not any I know."

   "Then why do they have Lexus commercials, in Spanish every commercial
break on Univision?  I know I watched them."

   "Novellas?"

   "Yeah, I got bored, there was nothing on, except that.  I don't know the
name, but.  They're actually pretty good.  More opera, less soap, I would
say."

   "So you like Latin culture?"

   "I don't know latin culture."

   "Is this why you.  Pick up latinos for sex?"

   "Oh, that.  I don't make a habit of it, the first time, I ever thought
of it.  But, Uh?" He's not going to let it go, "Why, I did it?" Jes?  "Huh?
I don't know.  It's not like I planned to." Or thought about it for days,
"I'm not used to having, all this spare time.  I'm on vacation, and I don't
know what to do with myself, but I had to move, and I had some time off, so
I took them."

   "Oh, okay."

   "Does that answer your question?"

   "No, but your the boss.  I just wonder.  You have, coffee?" He drained
his thermos.

   "Yeah, I'll go start a pot."

   "Is okay, just show me where it is, and I will go make some."

   "Okay, it's not unpacked yet, but should be the box in the corner of the
kitchen." Just stuffed the bag in the caraffe, and taped it up."

   "You have been here, days?"

   "Yeah, oh the coffee?  I don't need it, on my days off." It's be nice,
not having to get up, put on pants.  "Yeah, there."

   He pulled it out, unwrapped the chord, and plugged it in, before working
on the tape.  Didn't put it on.

   "You don't have to serve me." I shook my head.

   "No, but this is, for me.  I am not a guest, and I will no make you make
me coffee."

   "No, I get it.  That's great.  Thanks." Seeing as I hate getting men
coffee, "I'm just.  I don't know, I just don't want you to feel like that."

   "Like what?  I come to help you move, unpack your." He looked down, "Mr.
Coffee.  Thanks for letting me have a pot, so I don't have to go to the
corner.  Huhuh!" His hands shook.

   "Are you all right?"

   "Fine."

   "No, you're white." I took his hands, "God, you're freezing!  Here." I
turned the water on hot, "Just put them under here, and calm down.  What's
wrong?"

   "You make me.  A whore." I got a chair, he sat down, but didn't cry. 
Held back, I knew he wanted to, but he toughed it out.

   "I'm so sorry, I didn't know."

   "Wha," not sure if that was a why, or what?  "That sex for money is a
whore?"

   "No, of course not that, but that it could hurt you.  Like this, I
didn't intend to hurt your feelings, I just didn't know you're so
sensitive, to that."

   "Well, for your informacion, in Latin culture it is, not.  Huh!" He put
his head down.  "No," shook it, "Huh!  You right, I no.  I did not know. 
You could not have." She speaks so formaly when he's struggling, in
English. Says something, quite a lot in Spanish.

   "Is that a prayer?"

   "Jes, I am, no I waz a good Catholic.  Now I am a whore!"

   Now, he's crying, but with his head down, so I can't see it.

   "I'm sorry," I can't take this.  "Huh!  Have some coffe, see if that
makes you feel better."

   It's true, I know plenty of women who like to shame, and humiliate you,
but that was not my intent.  I never intended to hurt anyone, and I hate
myself for doing it when I do, it's just unavoidable.  Especially across
cultures, with a language barrier, and anything like sex becomes an issue.

   I thought, women do sex work, because we have to.  Some times, I never
did, so I never did.  I assumed that men do because they can.  You know
they get payed better for that too?  The one industry that by all rights
should be dominated by women, so of course the best payed and most famous
porn stars are dicks.  Bad enough that we have to go under the knife, get
baloons stuffed in our chests, shave everything, and keep in perfect shape,
Ron Jeremy.  That fat freak is the face, and spokes model for the entire
industry.

   So, I never actually run into this problem before.  Chalk it up to the
cultural difference, I've been to Mexico, hell he mentioned Tampico?  I've
been there.  Maybe a little Texas in there, I'm a Dallas girl, and hating
Mexicans is a family tradition since the Alamo.  Not me, don't have a
problem with it, obviously.  I mean, when we first met, and he bent down
over my window.  I checked my watch, and he checked out my watch, but it's
a nice watch.  It's fucking bling, I hate it honestly, but it's the only
one I got, because I have to wear something to work, because that's what
"Dress professional" means.  Not business casual, we don't have casual
fridays, dress for success, or fail.

   Only what they don't tell you is at 90% the pay of your male
counterparts, at least double the cost of the wardrobe, why do you think I
drive a Benz?  Do I like it, yeah it's a nice car, but I wouldn't have
bought it if it wasn't a work expense.

   "I'm sorry."

   "No, I'm sorry.  Huh!  I know I use men for sex, I should've warned you,
but I didn't think, I should have.  Warned you?"

   "Is okay.  You want to get back to work?"

   "Yeah, okay." Would've liked to take another stab at him, but all right.
He earned his money, and I'm not going to rape him, or blackmale him for
it. I'm not like that, I just get too horny to think about it.  A little
lucky I stopped to put a rubber on it.  Disgusting things, but it's like
the watch, the car.  The things I put up with to get what I want.

   I'll not bore you with the play-by-play of my moving process.  We're in
the living room, so we continued in there.

   "I don't like Latin men.  In particular, white, black latin, asian,
whatever.  Huh!  Honestly, I don't like men.  All that much.  I just need
them, sexually.  So, I saw you.  Not you, dear, you and your friends. 
Hihihn!  Can you take this upstairs?" Let me think, "On the bed is fine, or
the dresser will do.  Um, you think it would be better at the top of the
stairs?"

   "The dressor?" He called down, but didn't walk back to the railing.

   "Yeah, for dressing.  I just thought there I wouldn't have to go around
the bed." By the wall, sideways it wider, but still like a dead-end hall,
and I still haven't.  "Grab the mirror and take it up there too."

   "Yes miss."

   "Thanks." Um, "So yeah, anyway, hihihn!  I saw you, right by the
convenience store, and I thought.  Well, isn't that convenient?"

   "Hahah, yes.  It pays to advertize?"

   "Hahah!  Yeah." He's funny.  Too, and as I get to know him.  "You know,
you'd be a good friend."

   "I am, I have many friends."

   "Yes, but." I was thinking I need a man, and "I don't.  Know, anyone
like you.  I mean, plenty of latin men, and some I've even been with, but
not like you.  You are a good man."

   "Oh, thank you.  Miss?"

   "Yes?"

   "Is nothing."

   "No, go ahead." He came out, not to the banister, but looked at me. 
Through it, but we saw eachother.

   "Forgive me for saying, but I do not think.  You are."

   "What?"

   "A very good person."

   "Oh." I hadn't even thought.  "I'm sorry."

   He just shook his head, and walked back to the stairs.

   "Is okay, you done'know." The way he said it.

   "No," but I suppose, with my privilege.  "But I can empathize."

   "What is.  This, how you mean."

   "Empathy?  Well, it's the ability to put yourself, mentally in somebody
else's place.  As much as possible, I know, I have no idea what it's like
to be an immigrant, but the parts we have in common.  Like being servant
class.  For instance.  Take a break, I'm not paying by the hour here
anyway, but I think this is important.  For both of us to understand, but
that sex really cleared my head, so thanks for that.  Anyway, that out of
the way, I guess what I'm trying to say is that you and I are different,
but I feel that your plight being a Mexican male has as much in common with
my plight as an independent professional woman that we can Empathize.  I
don't know exactly how it is for you, nor would you fully understand my
world, but it feels the same.  I know how you feel, having to work harder,
for less, and fight for the right to be here, every day.  I imagine it
doesn't feel much different being called dirty spic than rich bitch."

   "You hate that as well."

   "Yes, exactly.  So, even though I have no idea what you go through, I
can still feel for you."

   "I like this, empathy."

   "Good, me too." It tells me I'm not a total psycho.

   "But the main reason I chose you instead of a moving company, or $500.00
an hour Giggalo is because you need it more.  The work, and the money."

   "Did you say, $five, hondered?" I nodded, "A hour."

   "Yes?"

   He laughed, "I went in the wrong business." He shook his head, and got
up.  With that, the break was over.  "Yes, I would like to be your friend."

   "Niheha?  Thought you said I was not a good person."

   "No, but I like you.  And your money."

   "Oh yeah!?"

   "Yes, and your culo."

   "What's that?"

   "You prefer the English word, your ass.  You have a good ass."

   "Hey now, nobody said you could talk to me like a boyfriend!"

   "Your friends, do not say you have a nice ass?"

   "Hihinihn!  No."

   "Well, you do."

   "Thanks!"

   "There is this.  Other thing.  Here, in American culture.  Friends with
benefits?"

   "It's not typically a payed position." I nodded.

   "I do no wando," again, how he said it, "Be a whore.  But I would like
to be your.  How you say giggalo?"

   "Mhm!" I actually clapped.  Excited.

   "Yes, I would like that."

   "Well, the price is negotiable, but." I want to go, splurge, spend some
money right now.

   "No, is okay.  You maybe." He stops, at the landing, and looked up,
"Want a freebie?"

   "Yeah."

   "This time, I will fuck you.  Like a man."

   "Okay," he forgot the rubbers, so I grabbed them.

   ;

   "Herve'," (MF Top/bot.  No BDSM.)

   She just bent over, on the bed.  The end, I had to go around for her to
un wrap one, put it on, and suck it wet, but she was wet enough.

   Behind her, I never really looked.  At them before, she said Rich Bitch
herself, not like she was calling me a Dirty Spic, but after we.  She
fucked me, the first time.  So I looked, and while it's not like, she isn't
hispanic, but it has it's own beauty, and I just had to look.

   "Uhn, huh!  Go slow."

   "Like this." I remember her ryhtm.  Before, it was an hour, but not 2
yet.

   "Mmh, more." She nodded, "Slow, but, pull out more."

   So, I gave her all of it.  She only went halfway before, but on top. 
The view is the same, "Ohh, huh!" But going slow, I can pull back, all the
way, without popping up.  "Harder, nh, fuck into me, HUH!  Yeah, and pull
out slow.  HIHN!" A little squeek, "Hardrh!" She turned, and lay down her
head the other way, so I pulled back for another thrust.  "Huh!  Harder."

   "Okay," yes, this is.  I am an attractive man, I do well with the
ladies, I must say she picked me not just because of my speedy reaction,
and good English.  I have done this, like this, and if you don't know how
to pleasure your woman, ask her.  She probably knows.

   "Huh huh faster, HUH!  Yeah faster, faster yeah uh!  Fas'huh yeah
neyeahneahneyah morefasterahuhuhuhuhuh!"

   "HHuhH!" I just held it in.

   "Don't stop."

   "HM!  Give me.  Just a second."

   "You didn't."

   "No, but.  HHh," I pulled out, slowly.  Not all the way, "Close."

   "Neah, save it, just, hhHh!" she sivvered, inside too.  "Fuck me some
more.  Slow, not too fast."

   I won't.  Stop, until she is satified.  I made that mistake, but I will
satisfy her.  This time, for one I am curious what it will take.  But I am
here, for a job, and I will do it.  Completely, thoroughly, I will come
back when she needs me again, but when I leave her, she will be satisfied.

   "HHh, hHh, hHh!"

   "Oh, god.  Your dick, god I love your big fat cock in me, meah!"

   She's a talker, but the money's good.

   You think I like standing out there, from 4:00 in the morning, because
the work crews start at 5:30, and they don't want to delay picking up extra
labor?

   It's not just a job, it's a good job.  And an interview, I want to come
back, steady work, and she has the money.  Not a boyfriend, not a husband,
she needs sex.  Willing to pay good money for it, and I'm thinking $100.00
a bang.  Every other hour so far, and that will be the day, but that is a
good day of work, and a good week worth of money.  Today.  This morning, is
it even lunch time yet?

   I'm not out in the sun, I don't have lawn mower spary all over my arms,
or drywall dust to shoot over my nose, I work up a good sweat, the benefits
includes sex, twice in one day, with a beautiful, powerful rich blanca out
of her mind with sex.

   "NHM?" She pushes back, hard against me, so I stop.  Feel the clenching,
rippling, even through the plastic thing, and bend over to hold her.  Pull
out a little, but feel her back with my chest, up her arms, and under her
shoulders.  'hhhhhh!' She relaxes.

   Slip my fingers under, sideways.  Yes, I have done this.  My wife, she
love this, even in the culo.  Her nipples, brush through my fingers, and
between them, I just cup them.  As lightly as I can, with our weights both
pressing down on them, but pull them out.  To flatten, bulge out she sides,
and leave them.  Feel my fingers, then fingertips, up and down the round
tight curve of her most womanly flesh, and sit up.  To sink in.

   "NGH!" Press in, as deep as I can go, to splash my children up inside
her.  Or this, raincoat.  I don't think about that, sinful thing.

   Yes?  Well, I am a whore now.  I have to dress for the job.

   I can go to hell with her, I know her soul was already there.

   {Author's note: In case you're wondering, the sex is not graphic, much
less Ultrasex (MSI) because 1: it's just sex, and 2: it's not really about
that, but 3: the characters aren't aware of their own motivations.  And I
may be a little burned out on writing Ultrasex(Faggot!) Also, Privilege. 
If you haven't all ready picked up on it.}

   ;

   Janet (FM NS Talk.  Sorry?)

   "Well," ah!  "Huh!  We did just about all I need you for right now, but.
Smq.  You want a ride home?"

   "For right now."

   "I have some decisions to make, and a lot of stuff to put away before we
need to move any furniture, but would you like to come back tomorrow?"

   "Yes, very much."

   "Go get my purse." I went down, and back to the bathroom.  Took off my
top, and dropped my bra on the stairs.  "Ohhhn!" God, that was just what I
needed.  Just how I needed it, and then.  After.  "Huh!  We up to two
fifty?" I nodded, "You earned it." That's what I call at least a 1 week
fuck.  I don't need it all the time, but, "How's fridays for you?" I sat
down, put my leg up, and stuck the wallet back in my purse on my knee. 
"You want more work?"

   "Yes, fridays are.  I have nothing, on friday nights.  I could go out,
usually to the bar, but.  I don't have to." He looked down, finished
counting the $20.00s, and floded them up.  "It is, a hondred for sex."

   "Yes," and that is a bargain!  Yes, the also work cheap, but I had
mentioned $500.00 an hour giggalos, and he didn't try to overcharge me. 
That's an expense I can afford, $100.00 a week, and not even every week.  3
times a month, I can skip a week when I have to, for my period.  "Huh! 
Pleasure doing business with you."

   He picked up his tools, "Yes, I would like that ride."

   "To the corner?"

   "No, if you would not mind taking me home?"

   "Of course not, I'd love to, why would you think I wouldn't?"

   "I do not know, but.  Like you say, 'no names', and."

   "Herve'." He looked up, "Is that right?" He nodded, "I'm Janet.  Nice to
meet you.  Hihimn!  Now that we got all that out of the way, you got
everything?" I picked up his thermos in the kitchen, and pushed down the
top before I tossed it to him.

   "Yes, this is it."

   "You feel all right?" Put my arm around him, "Nheauha, you're not going
into shock again, like last time."

   "No, I am fine.  That was just, a crisis of faith."

   "Christian?" I unlocked it, dropped my keys in my purse, closed the
screen door.  Why these condos have screen-door out front, as if I had a
decent porch, "Bad neighbohood?" THNK!  Pushbutton start.

   "Not really."

   "I mean for me to be seen in.  In a Mercedes," already took off my
watch. Don't need it, didn't even do my hair.  Just grabbed some clothes,
went out like this.  Like a slob, like a walmart-slob, in my PJs, and that
might explain why he thought I'd mind taking him home?

   "You should be fine.  You might not want to go there, and stick around.
Too long, but not because of your wealth.  It is not a ghetto, or a slum,
there are just many men.  Latin men, and you do not like, to be hit on?"

   See what I mean?  He's smart, most white guys don't pick up on these
things.  "No, that's all right," but it's not like I want to be raped, and
I don't have anyone to go with.

   No, not him.  I don't want a friend, a boyfriend or a husband, I'm more
worried about him having unprofessional feelings, but this is a business
deal.  I need a man, he needs money, and the best part about it is I can
just kick him out instead of fighting over the bed all night.  "Huh!  I
have no problem telling them to go fuck themselves, I never did.  I just
have a libido.  I wouldn't think that would be that tough a thing for men
to understand.  And I don't want to spend any more time on it than I have
too, the hondred bucks is still a lot less than the time is worth to me."

   "I do not.  Understand.  Yes, the libido part, but no, not the.  You are
impatient, you say go slow, and then you just want to get it over.  You
just say you done want to spend too much time on it."

   "Not sex, men.  Huh!  I love sex, and you, god you're an incredibly good
lover, you know that?"

   "Yes?" Not sure if that's a yes yes, or.  He says yes a lot, it doesn't
always mean yes, but doesn't matter.

   "Um," Shake my head, "I want to spend time having sex.  As long as
you're able, not all that fucking around before and after."

   "For, play?"

   "No, that's sex, I mean wining, and dining, dating, and sleeping
together, I just want to fuck, and enjoy that, and why is this such a
problem for people?  Not just your people, anyone?  What the fuck is wrong
with sex?  It's not sinful, it feels good, it's natural, and if God didn't
like it then why did he give us this instead of hermaphrodites, or, storks,
and, cabbage patches, and shit?"

   "Hahaha!  Your blasphemy is funny, but it is not our place to question
God."

   "Don't preach," I shook my finger, "Just don't.  I hate that."

   "Religion?"

   "Yeah, my uncle's a fucking decon, and one of his daughters joined the
cloister, you believe that?"

   "Haha, yes."

   "Well good." cause, "It's true.  I mean, like anyway.  It's like
homosexuals.  If god hates homosexuality, then why's he make gays to hate?"

   "well, that would be the adversary."

   "Hahahah!  You mean Satan?  Okay, yeah.  I'm sorry, they're your
beliefs, and you're entitled to them, but even if you believe the story,
they comitted genocide and enslaved people In Mexico.  That's why it's
Mexico.  Are you Spanish Mexican, or do you have some.  I don't know,
Native, Mexican?"

   "Yes, I have family from the tribe."

   "Okay, then if they believe in this all powerful benevolent god that's
everywhere, then whats with all the killing, rape and torture in His name?
Don't have sex, that's sinful.  But if they don't pray in My name you can
kill them?  You ask me, that's a pretty fuck up god."

   "Well, if you don't want to insult my beliefs, then mebe you could try
Not to insult my beliefs?"

   "Oh, sorry.  You're right, yeah you're right, I'm sorry."

   "You talk a lot, after sex."

   "Yeah, it helps me think."

   {Psych Notes: Yeah, in case you don't pick up on the pattern, she's a
Power Assertive Malignant Narcissist.  Specifically a Privileged Exploiter,
would be a Entitlement Rapist, if she was a man.  This just isn't
psychological fiction, I've known so many of them, threw them in a blender,
and tipped it over a glass to see what dripped out first.  They fascinate
me, especially the subtle covert females, which is why I write about it so
much.

   He is her victim.  Forced prostitution, but not like physical force. 
Brute force, that's easy to write.  This is a magicians force, "Pick a
card, any card," as long as you end up having sex for money at the end. 
She degraded him, pushed him down in the metaphorical muck to stand taller
on his back.  In denial about it, which is what all that woMansplaining was
about.  "I don't want to sound racist, but the glass ceiling makes up for
being white, and it's okay if the guys do it to me.  Get away with it..."

   I've talked a lot about child molester's excuses, but they're not the
only ones that make them.  There is nothing, absolutely nothing to stop her
from abusing children, she just chose ethnic minorities (Yes, plural) to
prop up her feeling of superiority.  Instead, and besides, you know child
abuse is wrong.  Too many people are completely oblivious to casual
anti-social abuse.  Sexual harassment, covert incest, systemic racism, rape
culture, economic and religious privilege.  Intellectual Privilege? 
Totally not a thing.  I'm smarter and better educated than you, so you can
just sit back and listen while I talk over you, kay?

   Which is why I write about them.  Nobody said you have to get off. 
Honestly, that's not my job, and I don't get payed anything for this,
anyhow.}