Rosita appears at one side. Naked, shit… . she’s worse than naked… . She wears a high comb and the mantilla is long … the end of it just touches her ass.
Red slippers with very high heels, BLACK STOCKINGS! The stockings come high on her thighs, and to keep them up she has tied the garters very tightly … the skin pinches out over the edges … Over one arm she carries a lace shawl … also black. Then, a touch of the old crap, a rose in her hair.
She doesn’t begin to dance until she’s paraded across the floor, giving us all a chance to see just what we’re getting. My cock comes up like something on strings … A sailor tries to grab at her ass, but she twists by him. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d tried to bite it.
She has hair, this cunt, and you can see it through the lace shawl that she droops from her arm so that it just covers her bonne-bouche … Her mop looks more like the black fur of some animal than like an ordinary bush. But she carries the shawl so well that you never get a peep at her trap until she’s ready to show it to you.
Whether you’d call her young or not depends on where you grew up and what your tastes are… . she’s eighteen, and she has bubs that make you think of going on a milk diet. They’re big and they wiggle, and the nipples are like red knobs …
Her ass wobbles every time she takes a step, and around her waist there are the marks of the corset she’s just taken off… they make you think of the whip… .
She’s left the veil off, and while a Spaniard would probably have reservations about her looks (they look for the woman; they know their girls don’t last long), she’s just the kind of cunt I would go looking for if I had an itch for some Latin tail. I take a look around the room. Every eye is fixed on her like a rubber stamp.
Christ, she must feel that she’s being eaten every time she comes out to dance… .
I don’t know what they pay girls to do this sort of thing. It’s not like being just another whore… . Take a whore … a man comes to her with an itch in his britches and she does her best to fix it up. It’s a service, really a kindness of the whore. But to go out in front of twenty men every time you perform … to go out and deliberately put that itch in their pants … that’s really whoring. What it amounts to is going out there and being asked to be ravaged, teasing men up until every one of them is fucking the Jesus out of you in his imagination. Then, when you’ve taken it, what can there be left for you? Christ, they’ll have to invent a new currency … . there’s nothing in the Bank of France to pay for that …
Rosita’s heels tap the floor like pebbles on a roof. She throws her head back, and her teeth gleam … her teats rise, and her belly is thrust forward … the shawl sways …
John Thursday sticks out like the sawed-off limb of a tree. If I wanted to I couldn’t keep him down … not with that bitch throwing herself in front of him …
She whirls across the room and her shawl seeps up … her belly is dark and hairy
… a fingerline of hair twists up it from her bush… her fig is a red bulge, split moistly down the center… looking fecund and open.
Her heels stamp louder and her teats jump with every step she takes … her eyes begin to look slightly drunk.
“Dance, you cocksucker, dance!” someone shouts in Spanish. Everyone in the room laughs, and Rosita tosses a dark smile over her shoulder. Someone pinches her ass. She shrills and leaps away, changing the leap into a bold drunken step and the cry into a dancing shout … Her hips squirm wildly … . .
“Ah!” the cry comes from many throats as the dance changes. She’s fucking now, fucking some image in her mind … Fucking all of us … She throws her ass forward and back… You can almost see the fingers running across her belly, down her arms, along the moving hips… . .
No one in the room moves now … Rosita lays her hands on her hips, turning slowly until she has faced every table, offering her cunt to every man … Hungry eyes bulge from inflamed faces on every side… she is ringed, walled in by lust …
wherever she turns there is a pair of eyes to take her … She cowers into a smaller and smaller circle until she is standing in the center of the floor turning slowly on tip-toe.
Every man who watches her now … . they see her before them, supplicating pity … Rosita falls slowly to her knees … . her head bows as she reaches forward
… her mouth seems to meet something with a wolfish, obscene noise … She is forced backward, bracing herself with arms that cannot resist the pressure that strains downward against them … Her knees spread as her body goes back … the men begin to howl… .
And the bitch can laugh then! She rocks with high, contemptuous laughter, letting her body fall backward, spreading her knees further, showing her cunt up
… The room growls angrily. Rosita’s laugh rises like a tide of hysteria over the muttering roar that creeps toward her… .
“Filthy beast!” a man spits at her as she laughs in his face. A sailor tosses his beer. I can feel my balls creeping in my pants … Christ, can’t the bitch see what’s doing? Some of these bozos are drunk enough to beat her to death … One big bastard knocks over his chair and sways toward her … he stands over her and raises his fists over his head … Rosita laughs and his face grows livid … the muscles bunch heavily in his arms …
Somehow the cunt is on her feet. The big guy reaches towards her like a bear
… and she throws her open shawl in his face. As she runs to the door someone catches her mantilla … the comb is yanked from her head and her hair falls down over her shoulders… .
I know one thing … in three minutes there’ll be twenty men at the cloakrooms arguing with Granny. Shit, maybe they line up at Rosita’s door … I run down the stairs… .
“Quick! That girl who dances upstairs …”
The hag takes my money and counts out the change in a saucer. Number three along the back hallway … She’s a very nice child, willing, and sure to please
…
Rosita is sitting on a small iron bed smoking a tobacco-wrapped cigarillo. She is exactly as she was when she ran out of the room … her breath still comes quickly …
“I thought it would be you,” she says. Then she adds, “I hoped it would be you
…”
All of her customers may get the same line … that doesn’t matter. I look her over and grab for her fig. She laughs and throws the cigarillo away. Her belly feels hot and slightly sweaty.
Her eyes, while I’m taking off my clothes, remind me of those of the men who watched her dance. She looks at John T. as though she’d like to bite his head off
… She’s hot, there’s no question about it… .
“Look,” she says. She spreads her legs and gives me a peep at her conillon.
There’s a juice between her thighs; she has a small river under her ass. She lies back in my arms while I feel her up … suddenly her teeth prick my arm like hot needles.
I can give her what she wants … she grabs my balls and rubs the knobs of her bubs against my chest, then her fingers catch my dong by the throat… . she yanks John Thursday’s beard and tickles his chin. She makes a soft, pleased sound like a cat, when she finds how hard he is. When I feel her up she begins kicking her toes into the bed … the covers become a mess, hard and lumpy under us … Rosita squeezes my thighs between her legs rubbing her bush and her cunt against me … she’s playing with herself against my leg, and that hairy belly is tickling my hip.
I drag her from the bed and put her on her knees, exactly as she was at the climax of the dance. She looks up at me… .
She knows what I want … My dong quivers in front of her… . She places her hands against my knees and bends . . she takes my prick in her mouth and sucks, waiting for me to force her backward… .
Laugh now, you bitch! Try to laugh with that cock in your mouth! Try to spill your laugh around the edges, into my bush, it will catch in the bristles… . I’ll push your laughter down your throat, cram it into your belly and out your ass… .
I’ll make your laugh a slobber, and after I’ve come, your laughter will be choked with jism … when you giggle little squirts of jism will come out of your ears …
and for hearty laughter you will have special tears of jism … . to drip from
