I found Ronnie on Backpage. She usually advertised in Biddeford, but this time she was working out of Portland. We arranged a pickup spot, and a half hour later she was basically naked in my bed. She was medium height, maybe 5’5”, slender, dark-haired, attractive, tried to act the dirty girl.
For this first meeting, Ronnie was very friendly, polite, and sweet. She named her price (I think it was $120), somewhat high, but I paid it without complaint. At that point, after slipping the cash into Ronnie’s eager fist, and seemingly out of the blue, I offered her some cocaine to smoke. Of course she’d smoke with me! She never got offers like this. Her mood clicked up a half-dozen notches. We got very high, talked and laughed. When we got down to the work she’d come to perform, we were unsuccessful because of that side-effect of the drug, which lets me get horny, and even get hard, but not to orgasm. We messed around for a half-hour or so, she proffered a perfectly adequate blowjob, but I gave up in a good-hearted way, pulled out of her mouth, grinned, and lavishly French-kissed her. “Honey, it’s not you, it’s me. Look up prostatectomy on Wikipedia.” I got up and dressed, implied we’d hook up again, took another puff with her, and drove her back to town.
Ronnie is young (under 25, I think), and has some serious issues, not least the fact she’s a stoned junkie crack ho, whose boyfriend regularly sent her out on the street to get money for their drugs, and once knocked out or broke off all her top teeth. I didn’t realize this when we first met—she had a way of holding her lips over her mouth, so it wasn’t obvious. Also, she had a couple of children (not in her custody, apparently), one somewhat recently, and her body was a pink white wreckage from the ordeal. She was also what I would describe as “casually clean,” and everything about her—clothes, lingerie, her skin—seemed slept-in.
The next day I learned one downside of connecting with a crack ho who’s a junkie, which is that they try and stay very close to any john who treats them decently. She called and asked me to see her again. I didn’t have time, or really much desire to see her again, but she persisted because she “really, really needed” money to cop down. I drove to town and picked her up (she’d dropped her price to $70, which is, not coincidentally, the standard price for a half-gram of heroin), brought her to my house where this time I was able to orgasm while she enthusiastically fellated me, kneeling topless on the floor of my bedroom, and I ended up dropping her off near where she was to make her connection, and was perfunctory when I dropped her off. I didn’t want to see her again. She’d earned her seventy bucks.
A couple of days later she texted me again, and when I wouldn’t see her, she begged me to please, Please, PLEASE bring her another seventy bucks, which I could bank as an IOU and the next time I saw her I’d get her full service erotic attention for as long as I wanted, for free. She promised to “love me long time.” I drove into town, gave her forty, and then drove home feeling used. I never collected that debt; IOU’s for sexual services are never collectible. Over the ensuing weeks and months, Ronnie persisted in calling, asking for favors in return for some implied sexual services she would gladly supply in some mysterious and uncertain future; I persisted in saying no.
She continued to call, and the phone stories got more and more outlandish as time wore on. Ronnie and her boyfriend moved back to Biddeford, and I felt relieved she was finally out of my life. Then I started getting texts from someone who was using Ronnie’s phone, claiming Ronnie was in jail and they were trying to raise money to bail her out. I texted my concern and support but couldn’t help with the bail. The other party persisted, I continued to refuse. I came to realize soon afterward that Ronnie wasn’t really in jail and the bail thing is a hustle.
Heroin addiction does not bring out the best in people. Ronnie apparently got very grimy, and she’s either in jail or has left the area because she was hot, like feloniously hot. I wish nothing but good luck and blessings to her. She will need all that and more. I met her sister Stacy about eight months later. Read on.
Bitchez 