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audience a clue what might be happening down there. Now two of the men drifted out of their conversation and were clearly watching me, nudging their friends. I swivelled my hips, then wetted my fingertips with a saucy tongue and pushed my hand down inside the knickers. All the men were watching now, watching me plant my fingers between my slick lips and rub, and I was trying very hard not to individualise them, not to pick out faces or hairstyles, but to keep them in role as everymen connected by the sharp gleam of lust for me in their eyes.
    I lurched to my feet again and twirled around, bending over and pretending to fiddle with my shoe strap. I could feel that thong applying pressure to the crack of my behind, slipping inside my cheeks and straining over my pussy.
    A knock at the door. My first punter.
    I pulled it aside, registering only maleness, of a younger kind – if I were looking at him with the eyes of Saffron the person rather than Saffron the commodity, I might find him fanciable. But he was here to fuck me for money, and there was no point getting interested in him.
    ‘Hellooo,’ I said, trying to sound like Marilyn Monroe.
    ‘How much?’ he asked brusquely. ‘For a straight fuck, like.’
    His refusal to beat around the bush, as it were, was aphrodisiacal in the extreme. Rubbing my thighs together to try and quell the itch at their apex, I said, ‘How much do you have? I don’t mind.’
    ‘You want it that bad, do you, love?’ he asked crudely, putting a big hand on my hip. ‘Well, I think the going rate is a bit higher, but you look to be about a fiver’s worth.’
    My eyes rolled into the back of my head with extreme delight. Yes, make me cheap, make me the cheapest fuck in town.
    ‘Deal,’ I whispered brokenly, drawing him on to the stage.
    ‘Right,’ he said, pausing to give his mates the thumbs-up and a wink in response to their fulsome applause. ‘What do I get for that, then?’
    ‘The lot. Whatever you want.’
    ‘Whatever I want? Knickers off, then, and sit on the bed with your legs spread.’
    I couldn’t get them off fast enough, almost tripping in my haste to show all I had. I fell back on the heart-shaped bed, splaying out my knees in the process, lying luxuriously and wickedly spread, watching my john remove his jacket and T-shirt.
    ‘No, no, no,’ he said reprovingly. ‘Your public want to see your face as well as your snatch. Sit up and face them.’
    I wriggled upright, taking care not to hide any of the personal areas he had ordered me to keep visible, and decided I might as well unhook my bra too. Thus naked, I faced the world, or rather the small portion of it represented by the squashed up noses and hot breathy mouths pressed against the window.
    ‘While I’m getting ready,’ the man said, unbuckling his belt, ‘why don’t you have a little play with yourself? Get in the mood? I want you nice and wet when I fuck you.’
    Obediently, I licked the fingers of one hand and began to strum at my already-juicy clit, using my spare digits to pinch my nipples and pluck at the wobbling flesh of my breasts.
    ‘Look at them while you’re doing it.’
    I could see them, hands on crotches, hard bulges threatening to dent the heavy-duty perspex of the window. They were cheering and punching fists in the air, lifting me up on a wave of delirious debasement; the rougher and readier their response to me, the faster I flicked at the swollen bud, bending my neck to lap at a nipple with my tongue.
    ‘Very nice.’ The john stood at the side of the bed, a condom already applied to his solid, curving cock. ‘Now get on your back and get those legs in the air. No, sideways on – I don’t want that lot getting an eyeful of my arse. It’s you they want to watch.’
    I shuffled my bottom ninety degrees and lay flat, imagining the picture I made in that window, the rise and fall of my breasts, the way my arse curved and my thigh flexed. I gripped the undersides of my knees with each