Page 51 of A Twist of Poison

I huffed out a laugh as he lifted his shoulders with a serious expression. I preferred my pussy tighter, less dried up than what was offered in here, and from the disgusted look on Ronnie’s face I reckoned he agreed.

We were led to one of the private rooms by one of the workers. It was dimly lit; the atmosphere trying to give the sensual vibe to lure you into its depths, to let go. To let the loose women employed here grind on you and rack up your bill by the time you left.

Aware of how it worked, I wasn’t falling for it. Nor was Ronnie. A woman appointed to him followed, as well as the woman who’d been assigned to me, and hopefully, the woman who’d happily accept cash payment for information.

My cock was soft as hell. This woman was not my type, but even if she was… in this environment I could guarantee it wouldn’t rise to attention.

I sat down on one of the largest dark coloured couches, which looked relatively clean but you could guarantee there’d be a whole host of bodily fluids within its depths. It made me cringe, but I ignored those unhelpful thoughts.

Ronnie retrieved a single wooden chair from the corner, avoiding the couches altogether.Smart guy. His woman approached him, trying to touch and feel him up but he whipped out a wad of cash and words were spoken between them. I couldn’t hear over the volume of the music, but she took it, stashing it in her tiny bra covering massive tits and turned round as he sat back and watched her dance up on the pole seductively. She was alluring. They all were here. They had to be, I guessed, for the clientele. Still… it wasn’t for me.

The woman assigned to me shimmied her way over as I sat back, legs spread with arms on the back of the couch looking as relaxed as possible. She sat on my lap, her legs either side of mine, and ground to the beat of the music.

Brushing up against my cock—which twitched in my trousers—I pursed my lips, annoyed at myself because I was wrong. It wanted to ignore my logic.

My nostrils flared as I let out a deep breath and decided to go along with this. It was what I did, what I’d been sent here for anyway. No point getting myself twisted up on the anatomy of a hardening dick.

Ronnie glared at the woman dancing seductively around the pole, her body bending and writhing so naturally you could guarantee she’d been at this for years or had professional training. I put the effort into keeping the attention on the redhead in my lap, grinding on me like she’d earn a hefty bonus. She would, just not from the way she usually did. But fuck it, may as well use what she’d be used to, to get her talking.

Holding her waist and grinding up into her, her head fell back with the pleasure of the friction on her clit. She rocked back and forth, the strain of my cock against my trousers rubbing up against the tiny thong on display.

“I want an exchange…” I stroked down the side of her exposed skin, up and down.

“Okay,” she agreed, continuing to grind against me as I pulled her down, allowing her to chase her own release. Bet other fuckers get theirs off first before her, or didn’t even allow her pleasure. “Cash for information,” I confirmed, grabbing her hair and bringing her gaze to mine.

“Information for a fuck and making me come,” she bartered.

Clever woman, knowing she had something to trade.

“No,” I gritted my teeth.

I didn’t want to pimp myself out for information, not now. I’d had no issue doing it in the past, but even though nothing was official with Milla, I couldn’t stand the thought of it, knowing she’d be lingering within the back of my mind. I’d feel guilty and have to admit what I did.

Whether she’d care or not, I was unsure, I was guessing she would. It would put a dent in whatever we’d built, though, and I didn’t want to be the one to do anything to jeopardise that. To admit I’d fucked someone else, without even giving her the reasoning behind it—just no.

“Yes, or I won’t talk.” She pouted, and I knew she was going to play me for whatever she could get. Deciding on a compromise, I peeked to Ronnie who’d sat with a glass of something, sipping leisurely and watching his woman still working that pole.He’s got the straightforward job, fucker.

Tightening the hold on her hair, pulling her to my face, I told her sternly, letting that other side of me filter through. “I told you no, I meant it. But I will allow you to get yourself off on me before running off to your next clients who won’t care for your pleasure.” I rolled my hips up into her again as I loosened the hold, and she relented, taking my measure.

“One thousand dollars,” I confirmed. She bit her lip, nodded in agreement as she began grinding up against me, hitting my now fully solid dick, finding a good angle to pleasure herself.

I decided to help her along to get this over and done with. “Your pussy is so wet with the thought of me inside you, dragging you to ruin like the bad girl you are. Ain’t that right, beautiful?” I smirked as she moaned, grinding on me while also trying to maintain some semblance of lucidity to talk.Dirty talk always gets them.

I was certain this would be the first time I turned down an advance, ever. Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely true.

“Now, tell me all about the purchased merchandise that gets brought in here…”

Her mouth started running and her face took on a dazed expression, which was good for us. Knowing her, once we’d left, she’d panic even while the money was rolled secretly between her hands. Some people were never happy, but I got it.

If you snitched on somebody, you’d have to be prepared to pay the price. Let’s just hope for her sake she didn’t admit it to her bosses, because that would be plain stupid on her part when only Ronnie and I knew she’d given up any information. I wouldn’t hand her name over. There’d be no point. She’d been paid for what she passed on. The deal was done and dusted in my mind.

That’s the thing about high end places like this, some of them you sign NDAs like Obsidian, but Fourplay had a general no talk policy. People tried to avoid their names being associated in places where it could bring down their credibility, where it could have a negative effect on business deals and relationships. You name it.

That was why everyone kept their mouths shut, usually. The staff were very tight lipped, but for the right price they would talk. Naturally, it wasn’t advertised though, but it was a smart assumption. They were dismissed as usable whores, and they were in a sense.

But they were also listening to every conversation, every interaction around them. If you wanted to survive somewhere that was dangerous for you, that was what you did. What was the best way to have ammunition if one of the bigger, badder clients came for you? Blackmail. And money, because they weren’t working here out of the goodness of their hearts. They were paid decently, with extra payments directly from clients to fulfil their needs.

Maybe some did it because they loved it. Fuck if I knew. If you were desperate enough for money, this was one of the places to be. An evening’s work here allowed a month’s rent in a Lower East Bay apartment, with cash to spare.

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