Dulcie Waters: The Wild Side

Chapter Two-1

Chapter Two

March edged into April, the money ran low and Eddy had left town for a while, some talk of a warehouse and a grand’s worth of coupon meat missing. I had resisted the urge to smoke and upset Lil, to wit I kept my fleshy bottom free of acid rain. Depressingly, I found neither factory nor high street shop employed cocky, especially inexperienced cocky, no matter how many pieces of paper I waved to state I was smart. So with big cap in hand I went to Lil.

“How much do you need luvvy?” she asked outright, my face telling the whole story to perception herself.

“Weeks rent.”

“What about keep?”

“I don’t have to eat,” I replied, thinking that even her soggy wild rabbit pie was better than starvation.

“Modelling at the college won’t get yer anywhere near that,” she told me straight.

“Uh,” I answered slumping in a big worn armchair, the springs so weak getting out again was always a struggle. “Buggered,” I said defeated.

“Mind your language,” she berated, adding. “No one’s done you, ‘cept yourself luvvy.”

“Yeah,” I admitted not really agreeing with her.

“I know a geezer that knows a geezer, that would pay for a bit of something different, you being young and slim and pretty an all.”

“No d**k,” I said without thinking.

“This would be extras for dick.” Her tune had changed somewhat since our first meeting.

“How much?”

“Not for me to say. You’d have to talk to Raymondo.”

“Sounds Italian.” I really didn’t like Italians, even if I did have their blood coursing through my veins.

“More d**k head,” she said laughing, a cackle or a roll of death I wasn’t sure. “Raymond. Full of s**t. But he does, on account of his perverted ways, have some useful connections that could serve a girl like yourself. Or even save her. Still cold these nights deary.”

Monumentally uncertain. Utterly nervous and five hundred feet out of my depth I met Raymond that evening, something Lil had arranged. How, I never did know. Few had phones then. Semaphore from the roof for all I could guess. Ugh! He was totally obnoxious. A slug left less slime on the floor than Raymondo. He leaked it like normality leaks sweat in a heat wave. I hold no prejudice toward acne, but his peaks reached for the sun, their toxicant heads yellow with pus. His teeth, what was left of the ragged blackened stalactites and mites, seemed never clear of a halo of cigarette smoke. It did occur to me then that I needed to pack it in.

“Yeah,” Raymondo, twenty four, agreed. “You look good in clothes.” But then he dropped the same bomb on me as the yanks had on Nagasaki. “I’ll have to see you without. Like naked. Completely.”

“Is that your commission?” I asked straight faced, wanting to stick my teaspoon in his ugly face.

“Nah, that’s perks,” he replied truthfully. “I take a percentage of whatever you get.”

“Perks?” I questioned lifting a few feet off the floor, metaphorically speaking. “And what percentage? And of what exactly?”

That was when Raymondo spat back. He leant forward, over the cafe table and said. “You come to me darling. It’s you that needs a bit of ‘I don’t mind where I get it from cash’, not me. So don’t give me your, I’m better than you, you ugly f**k, sauce. I can walk back to a comfortable warm house and bed. Can you?” He smirked, his breath at that distance lethal. “I take what I deem right. And you do what I arrange.”

“You look. You don’t even think about touching,” I told him forcefully.

“f**k me!” he grinned. “You really do think yourself a cut above, don’t yer. Get me darling, and get this. I deal with people with a lot of currency. If any fancies your cunt, they will offer you more than even a stuck up cow like you can say no to.”

I didn’t believe him.

“Okay. What you got for me? And how much?”

Raymondo stuck his hand up attracting the waitress. “Carol,” he said quietly and sort of confidentially. “Two more teas, darling.”

She turned to walk away, snatching her hand from beneath his. “Oh. Yeah. How did you get on the other week?” he asked with a certain superiority.

She came back and leant forward, Raymond enjoying the display of lunging bosom within an open necked blouse and no bra. “Let’s just say I am still convalescing. That I won’t be dashing back for more. Okay?”

“Understood darling. But the cash front? How is that now?”

She smiled. “Paid off me arrears. Still got a roof over my head ain’t I Ray? And got a bit in the building society.”

“There you go,” he said to me.

“You thinking about doing what I did?” Carol asked.

I nodded. “What did you have to do?”

“Ray not said?”

I shook my head.

“Best I don’t put you off. If you need money, then it will pay you well. And if you really please, then you might get an extra few quid your way. Two teas wasn’t it Ray?”

I was none the wiser, but I needed the money, and I really couldn’t see how else I could get it, next to robbing a bank or something.

“Can I meet this feller?” I asked Ray.

“Who says it’s a feller?” he asked cockily.

“I surmised.”

“Don’t,” he warned. “Could be man, woman or them that can’t make their mind up. s*x is anybody’s game.”

“s*x?” I questioned, my heart falling. Though I don’t know what else I could have done or expected.

“It don’t always come down to that,” he clarified. “I know a couple of geezers that just like to watch things. That’s their kicks. Watching. They call them er. Hang on a mo. It’s there on the tip of me tongue. Can you read it Dulce?” He stuck his tongue out, chuckling.

“Watchers,” I said knowing it wasn’t.

“Nah yer daft b***h. Voyager? Nah. Voyeur. That’s it. Sort of French, ain’t it?”

“Watching what exactly?” He had slunk to his slippery persona, and I began to think he either bull-shitted me, or just plain had nothing up his sleeve.

“Carol.” He called the waitress over. “Tell Dulce what you did.”

She pulled a chair out from under the table and sat. “Maid,” she said simply, the admission a bit of an anticlimax.

“That it?” I asked adding too quick and naively. “I can do that.”

“Maid with a short skirt and no knickers,” Carol elaborated. “A clumsy maid that got her bare bum smacked for dropping things. I was there all evening cleaning her place. She watched and waited.” She smiled grimly. “I was black and blue the next day and couldn’t put my butt to anything for days after.”

“She just spanked you?” I inquired thinking of Lil, and I can do that.

But Carol shook her head. “First time in my life for being caned. I won’t be in any great rush to do it again.”

“But she paid well, didn’t she,” Ray goaded.

“Yeah,” Carol agreed, standing. “She paid well.”

“But?” I said for her.

“Not keen on the lezzie stuff with her.”

Ray added quickly. “Ah, but that’s not sex.”

“Isn’t it?” Carol asked going back to her counter.

“The woman in question is not seeking anyone at the moment,” Ray told me. “So it don’t arise.”

I shrugged, with an indifferent smile, Ray momentarily frowning, the man perceptive and nowhere near as dim as he looked.

“But something will.”

“First my flat, and then I’ll see what I can find for you. Ring around a bit.”

“You have a telephone?” I asked astounded.

“Can have mostly what I want,” he replied confidently, not with smarm. “Only reason I don’t have a motor is cos I ain’t got a licence.”

“Steady Eddy has a black Pilot,” I informed him unnecessarily, wanting to brag the acquaintance.

“Eddy’s got sticky fingers and is headed for prison. I ain’t.”

He had a point.

Had I known I probably wouldn’t have gone, and then I would have lost my lodgings, and by the time Eddy came back on the scene I would have had no choice other than to prostitute for him. At least Ray wasn’t leading me down that avenue. Well not directly.

He had a decent gaff, and surprisingly it was well furnished. I stood in front of a coal fire, a large mirror hung over the mantelpiece, and thought about stripping. Ray was out back pissing out all the tea he had drunk. To shed your gear in passion is one thing, but to take it off, all of it off with someone like Ray watching was a real endeavour.

He came back smiling. Yeah I would as well if I had walked in on Tony Curtis about to take his kit off. Except I was all but heterosexual, I just hadn’t woken to it then.

He rubbed his hands together, the way all boys do when something nice is about to happen. Then he poured himself a brandy, and took up regal residence in a leather armchair. I stood before him like a spare part. “Where do you get all your money from?” I asked naively.

“Mugs like you,” he replied curtly. “Now if you don’t mind, I don’t have a lot of time.”

It wasn’t that I had much to negotiate. I had left Rook’s Perch with little and wore most of it that cold April day. My mac, I just slipped from the shoulders, and let fall to the floor. I searched for a deep breath and let my cardi go the same way. All I had left was a thin cotton summer dress and the usual underwear.

He waited expectant, smoking a tipped cigarette and sipping a brandy.

There was no artistic display, no clever s****l flurry, no sensual twists or flicks. I just simply unbuttoned the dress and dropped it. Then I waited. Waited for the inevitable loss of patience. Which came very quickly.

“Stop f*****g me about!” he spat. “Get the f*****g underwear off and let me see the goods.”

I lifted a hand to undo the bra, stopping when I noticed how calm it was. There was no vestige of shakes. My heart beat at a normal pace, and there was no sweat. I could feel the heat of the fire on my bottom and thighs, a decent glow, warmth I had not enjoyed since the summer of ‘51. And so I took my time. I faced the mirror, warmed my front and removed the bra, tossing it aside. I could see his crotch in the reflection; the bulge within, the hard he basked in. Slowly, as casual as I dared, I bent and unfastened the clips on one stocking, before rolling it down my leg, my torso sinking further, my bottom tightened; t**s, good, well-shaped and firm, hung and quivered, tantalising.

He coughed. I’d like to think I interrupted his intake, and it wasn’t just the smoke.

Likewise I removed the other. Then I slid the suspender belt over my hips. I took the time to examine him, Raymondo, in the mirror. Visage flushed, his eyes watered, a stupid grin on his face. Then I dropped them. Knickers hit the floor and I stood without a stitch. I joggled my hips a bit, bottom dancing in tune, and then faced him. Odd feeling that. My skin felt alight, the knot of nerves in my gut retuned to an electric thrill. Silly pictures leapt in and out of my mind, things I would never do in a million years. And yet...

His eyes fell straight to the burst of ebony curls, my pubic thatch. I pressed my thighs together, turning slightly to the side.

He nodded. “Yes. Nice. They’ll like you. A decent bum. They’ll like that. You’ll get a good rate out of them. Don’t settle for what they offer. Argue and barter a bit. You’ll give me a fifth of anything you get. And don’t f*****g lie to me, cos I will check. If a bloke f***s you then I get ten percent of that too. Same if you get rogered with a dildo. Or take it up the arse.”

“When?” I asked, still in the dark about what; his stark choice of words further charging the erotic atmosphere. For me that was. Miss never been spliced naive and sweet bloody innocent. For a mad, mad moment there I wanted to extricate his extensive hard from his button fly and part my fanny with it. But I didn’t. If I could have disassociated him from his piece then it might have been a different story. Or if it had been Eddy sat there.

But Ray sensed something, because he beckoned me. Slowly I approached so aware of my nakedness, of the tremble of flesh, the jostle of breasts. I hid nothing and stopped by his crossed legs. Yes, I wanted something. I was flushed and hungry and accepted that. So when his hand rose, fingers stroking a breast, I said nothing.