Tuesday 14 August 2012

last days of Sydney - diary of a crackwhore





the Elk got a message from a client asking if we were both available for tonight. it was a job that required us to take loads of drugs. the Elk had been building a garden all day and was wrecked. crawling into bed at 9pm. "if we're leaving, we're gonna need lots of drugs for the going way party" i thought. the Elk was fine with me taking the job alone. i would just be up all night watching bad horror films and re-runs of drag race anyway. no doubt if i stayed home, in desperately trying to be quiet then it was more likely that i would make a thousands times more noise than i normally would. i'd drop a beer bottle on the floor, knock over the dish rack spilling crockery on to the tiles or burn my hand on the kettle making a cup of tea and scream like a girl.  he would get some rest if i was out of the house

i turned up at the clients apartment around 11pm. Ricardo is a guy in his mid 20s. he is a good looking brazillian guy, and more importantly, a really nice guy. he likes big beefy muscled older hairy so i was hired by a fuck buddy of his for Ricardo's birthday. he was mighty happy with me, but when he wanted a massage and i referred the job to the Elk. once that tight little silver fox waltzed into Ric's hotel room he fell in love. unfortunately he could not get us both tonight. so i had to take all the drugs myself, dammit!

it's no surprise to anyone that drugs are heavily involved in the sex industry. many are under the impression that one fuels the other, on both sides - clients and sex workers. 

first rule of whoring is - if you say you'll do the drugs, you will get the job

second rule of whoring is - the more drugs you do, the longer they hire you for

third rule of whoring is - you get paid more if you offer to get paid in drugs

fourth rule of whoring is - don't get too fucked up. don't become a junkie. don't get a bad reputation for yourself. no one likes a skanky crackwhore

normally, i barely get past the first rule. if i'm fucked up, high off my guts i don't want to be working and i sure as fuck don't want to be having sex with someone i'm not really attracted to. i'm a rotten liar and my cock is even worse at hiding contempt. it will simply throw a tanty, not play nicely or worse, shrivel up. it's foreskin pouting like a spoiled child child forced to sit on Santa's knee. therefore i rarely do chem jobs. but Ric is alright. he's fun to hang out with

first a line. then a chat. lose an item of clothing

then a pill. then a chat. lose another item of clothing

some GHB. more chatting. down to my jocks

a puff. a chat. not much left to shed, but since the crack pipe is already out you start fucking anyway

sexy times only last about half an hour. we just pissed around chatting. i kept checking my phone to see if the Elk had awoken and want to join us, but he was fast asleep. Ricardo wanted others to join the party so fucked out our minds we started chatting to guys on grindr. the usual chatting would happen, exchange xxx pics and when it came time to exchange phone numbers or address we got distracted. these horny guys aching for cock were left hanging because we, grown men in out 20s and 30s, were running around the apartment laughing our tits off having a naked pillow fight. 

the kid had just split with his boyfriend. he didn't need a drug fuelled orgy. he just needs to have fun

"i like you. when i talk to the Elk he nods and smiles but i don't think he understands what i say. i don't know what he say sometimes." i guess a conversation would be tough when one guy with a thick brazilian accent is trying to hold a conversation with a guy speaking with a thick irish accent and they're both stupidly high. i'm having trouble trying to smoke meth and listening… oh wait… now he's dancing… yep conversation is over, now he's dancing… and now he's collapsing

he was standing and then within a second dropped to the ground. collapsed straight into the down-face dog. it was one of the funniest things i have ever seen and exploded with a laugh

then, 'shit!' i thought, "is he okay?" i froze completely still wandering what a drug fucked hooker is supposed to do when a John dies on them. call for an ambulance? bundle him into a taxi? do i run? 

then he started snoring

i sit there for a bit and wonder what to do. with a crack pipe in one hand and a lighter in the other. porn on the tv in front of me, a raging hard on between my legs and the body of my client collapsed into a pile of steamy sweaty unconscious flesh snoring naturally i do what any caring and responsible adult would do - i kick back, smoke another rock, turn up the porno and start pulling my cock. finally i get a little me time

soon the snoring is so loud now it's really interrupting my wank. it's louder than the porn. i sigh heavily and with my phone in one hand and cock in the other, i text the Elk. 'um. he's passed out. what should i do?'

The Elk responds. he won't be joining us. 'no rush to come home. if you're fucked up don't drive home until you sober up' he says, 'i will just be sleeping.' 

no fair. i want be at home fucking him

i pick Ric up and drag him to bed. immediately his arms wrap around me and he falls with all his dead weight asleep on my chest. i can barely move but it's adorable. like a giant version of those koala souvenirs that clip onto your shirt. i can't disturb that. so i entertain myself with the only things within reach: my phone, an iPad full of gay porn and a table of drugs. 

in an effort to sober up i smoke more rocks. the pass the time until i sober up i keep masturbating. i try to wake Ricardo up to let him know i'm leaving so he can pay me. 2 hours later it's still not possible. not so fucked up now from the mix, but holy shit i am so high from the pipe. i peel Ricardo off me. try to work out how much i should be paid. i gather the drugs. i gather my gear. i gather my clothes. i'm so scattered i forget what the hell i'm doing i keep doing the same thing over and over

"good night! i'm going! see ya!" i shout as i shake him. his eyelids open but his eyes have rolled out of sight. he's okay. he will sleep it off

i manage to not kill myself in a motorbike accident on the way home. after a hard night's work and wired as fuck i drop some more G and settle on the sofa with some nasty straight porn wanking myself to sleep

ahh sleep... 

"WAKE UP!" *SLAP* "are you going to be sick?"

"what the fuck?" i shout "no!"

"are you going to throw up!?!"

"what? no!"

suddenly the sun was up and the Elk was sitting next to me. turns out it wasn't sleep, but unconsciousness i was falling into. my first G overdose and i missed the whole damn thing! no fair! 

i had broken the fourth rule. i am a drug whore. a messy overdosing drug whore

i curl up onto the Elk's chest in bed. my head falling through his rib cage and melting on his spine. i don't remember much but i was mumbling. just mumbling shit. i fall asleep

"so what did you get me?" the Elk grinned the following day, "ahem, i mean us, what did you get us?"

"it's on the table," i dribble a mouthful of downy pillow

moments later in the kitchen i hear, "shit! oh… um…"

"what?" i leave my head wrapped up in the duvet. turns out i was really scattered. as i gathered my stuff ready to leave over and over and over i must have grabbed what gear i thought was my payment over and over and over. it was meant to be enough for us to enjoy our last few weeks in Sydney. but i had grabbed more gear than i have taken in the last year. "oh… oops. he'll call back. he won't think i robbed him, will he?"

making the decision between honesty or pleading ignorance can wait. i need a fucking hot cuppa tea

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