POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD! POD! POD! POD! THE PERVERTS OF DOOM! present: POD! POD! POD! POD! POD! POD! The Perverts Library #2 POD! POD! ----------------------- POD! POD! "Whore Story" POD! POD! POD! POD! by FUNKY FISH VAGINA POD! POD! 7/5/89 POD! POD! POD#002 POD! POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD!POD! I'm a whore. Not a call girl, or a sex surrogate, or a massage therapist; you have to take out an ad to even pretned to be those things, and I'm usually too busy on my back to visit the swing papers. I'm a street hooker, I wake up at about noon, stand on my favorite street corner on Santa Monica Boulevard, and wait for the ttricks to pull up. They always do; it's not hard to figure out that a big-breasted young girl in hot pants and a tube top (38-24-36) isn't just waiting for the bus. At midnight, or when Vice comes out, I'll go back to my apartment and rub some baby oil on my pussy. My cunt is usually pretty red and sore by then, for good reason; I usually fuck about ten tricks a day. Why do I do it? I'm blonde, nineteen years old, and sexy enough to make the other girls on Santa Monica jealous enough to spit. Some of my tricks drive Mercedes and Ferraris; every night I get offers from men who want to take me away from "the life," to put up me up as a concubine in some swank Malibu cliff house. I always turn them down. The reason I'm a street hooker, you see, is that I love to ruck. I've been busted more times than I can count, and I know my probation officer has me listed as an SD12, which is the penal code number for sexual deviant. I know I'm a nymphomaniac, and I don't care. I could never shack up with just one man, no matter how rich he was. I'd spend the whole day playing with my pussy and thinking about getting fucked. My parents are nice, regular people with a tract house in the San Fernando Valley. My dad finally kicked me out a year ago, and I can't blame him. The last straw was when I invited the local football team home to take me, two at a time. That was before I realized I could get paid for doing what I was giving up for free! I've always been this horny. I can remember rushing home to look at my pussy in the mirror and spend the whole day playing with it, even when I was letting guys bang me every week. Most vice cops agree that some girls are just born to be whores. Well, that's me. As a hooker, I get all the fucking I need. Not all the guys who pull up to my curb are old and ugly; some of my tricks are handsome young guys, who just want to squirt a nice load of cum before they go back to their girlfriends. That's fine with me. I spread my legs for Latins, Anglos, Blacks, Orientals, everybody. Soem of the working girls don't like fucking the local Marines, because the young guys want too much for their fifty bucks. That's why the Marines are my favorites! The only thing I don't like about my job is how much dick-sucking I have to do. My pussy is what gets wet and swollen, not my mouth! I also love fucking so much, sometimes I almost forget it's how I make my living and forget to take the money! I'm writing this letter after a full day on Santa Minica. I had eight tricks today, and my cunt's pretty sore. The thing is, I know I'm going to be hornier than ever tomorrow. I like being a hooker and I don't want to be cured! EOF 7/5/89