Monday, May 05, 2003
[Before you start reading this story I want you to be aware it contains material that might make you queasy or extremely troubled. You have been warned . . . so please do yourself a favor and skip this one if you don't think you can handle it. For those well adjusted folks (or otherwise) who plan to stick around . . . enjoy!!]
It was around 12:00 a.m. and I was reading a great book called "Fortunate Son," which is about George W. Bush. I try to read as much as possible when work is slow. Most of my reading material tends to be political so I try to hide the covers from the customers walking by as we do get our share of right wingers coming through. On one occasion, however, I was particularly bothered by Junior and decided to scribe "No Bush" on my already bare pussy. The customers didn't seem to mind or even notice in some cases. Some of them missed the humor altogether and thought I was just making a statement that my pussy was shaved.
Anyways . . . a customer walked up to the window and just stood there smiling at me. He was fairly clean cut, average build and looked to be in his mid to late 30's. He had a shy demeanor, but seemed like he was interested. I moved toward the glass and asked him if he wanted a show. This is a little difficult though as it is hard to hear through the glass. Most of the time the customer doesn't know what the fuck I'm saying so I end up making the universal phone sign with my left hand (pinky finger and thumb extended) and holding it to my ear while pointing to the booth door. Most of the customers respond by going into the booth, but some get scared off and leave.
The customer seemed a little nervous and I thought he might leave, but he went into the booth after all. He put some money into the machine and the show began. I asked if he had been here before and he nodded, yes. I asked him if he was a naughty boy, while taking off my bra. His eyes darted down at the ground for a moment as if he were guilty of something. He smiled and said, "Yeah, I'm naughty."
"What kind of naughty things do you like to do," I asked, taking off my panties. He pointed at my ass and said, "I like that."
"Oh, you like my ass," I smiled. I asked him what he would do to it. He bit down on his lip and said, "Well...I would start by licking it."
"Oh really," I said, while slapping my ass.
"Once it was nice and wet, I would stick my cock in it," he went on. He had his cock out by this time and made a thrusting motion with it towards my ass.
"Oh, I like it up the ass," I said. He then stopped masturbating and pulled his pants down to his ankles. "Do you want to see my ass?" he asked.
I really didn't want to see his ass.
Normally, when a guy asks you this question at a Peep Show, what he really means is, "Do you want to see my asshole." I'm never good at getting myself out of these situations. I tend to be too nice at times, so of course I respond, "Sure." A huge smile spreads across his face and he turns around and leans forward toward the wall. He reaches one arm around, grabbing his left ass cheek and starts spreading it.
"Oh my God," I think to myself. I try to avoid making eye contact with the sphincter surely staring back at me. He looks over his shoulder at me to check my reaction. The only thing I could get out was, "Nice."
He took his other hand and started messing with his bottom. I wondered what the hell he was doing now. I didn't want to look, but unfortunately I focused unintentionally on his finger, which had disappeared into his sphincter. He quickly removed it, but something else happened, too. I tried to deny it . . . made excuses for what it could have been. I mean, it was dark and my mind was probably playing tricks on me.
But . . . I could have sworn I saw something dark push through the sphincter momentarily and then retreat back inside. The customer quickly turned around and picked up the phone again. I acted like I didn't see anything, thinking the customer was probably embarassed. However, the customer didn't seem phased at all. He started masturbating again and telling me how he liked it up the ass, too.
I saw him bring his free hand to his mouth. In his hand he held what looked like a tootsie roll. He started licking it. I quickly realized this was no tootsie roll, but was what I feared it to be . . . a piece of poop. He licked it until the tip of the tootsie roll bent to one side so it now resembled a Hershey kiss. My eyes started to blur a little and I tried to look past the customer's face.
I felt like I had witnessed some horrible event . . . like someone getting hit by a car. I thought this must be some internal protection mechanism kicking in as I had seen too much. I'm a very open minded person, but I just don't see how this can be healthy. I looked at the time and saw that it was just about up. The customer noticed this, too and I saw him reach with his phone hand for more money. "Fuck," I thought. I couldn't believe he was getting more time. I was also concerned that he was touching the money with his poopy hands . . . let alone the other items in the booth. Normally, at the end of our shift, we get the money that comes out of the machine. I didn't want the poop money so I thought about how I could trade it for cleaner money. This really goes to show you how dirty money really is.
He put more money into the machine. I really wasn't able to interact with him much. I just shook my head when he asked me a question and smiled a lot. I don't think he minded. I think he was just happy to share this side of himself with someone else. The second part of the show seemed to go by fast and before I knew it, his time was up again. He cleaned himself up, thanked me for the show, and left the booth. He left without using the restroom. I wondered where he was going now and who he would be interacting with. Would they be able to smell the shit on his breath or did he have any ony his teeth? What would he touch? I wondered how many other people did this sort of thing and what did they look like. What type of jobs did they have. I'm sure most of them look pretty normal.
I gathered my thoughts, put on my clothes and opened the shade to the hallway. Standing there was a very cute young man. He looked like a student. He seemed really excited to get a show and turned to go into the booth. I panicked, thinking the booth hadn't been cleaned and I was afraid he would be exposed to whatever might be left over from the previous customer. I held out my hand and told him I just had a show so the booth needed to be cleaned.
I ran out of the dressing room and went up to the front counter to tell Bob (the janitor) what happened during the last show. I told him there was a cute boy who wanted a show and I wanted to make sure the booth was sanitized for him. Bob grabbed the cleaning supplies and went to town on the booth. I went back to the dressing room and waited. Bob left the booth and the cute young boy went in. Seeing his cute face made me feel better.
A Seattle peep-show girl shares stories of her customers and adventures stemming from her bare-it-all behavior.
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