Watching Linda’s plump red lips wrap around the neck of a beer bottle, I was bluntly reminded of how many cocks she’d sucked in the last five days. It was easily over 25.
Neon lights framed out sticky table as we toasted the end of the long-working week in a cheap Hungarian bar in the company of other working girls.
As I sat with the girls, I noticed some hadn’t changed their outfits since work. Looking down at their heels, some still sported cum, jizz, and deepthroat spit stains on their heels and stockings.
Linda was an ethnically Roma gypsy prostitute on the highways of Hungary. This week had been busy for her, and I’d been there to cover every sticky moment in detail.
This article details the highlights of the week I spent with Linda and is an unprecedented insight into the ups and downs of working as a highway hooker.
How It All Began
I’ve worked in the sex industry for over a decade, and there isn’t much I haven’t seen or done. But one of them is roadside prostitution.
While driving through Hungary, I recently spotted an abundance of street roadside hookers looking for trade, and I made an impromptu decision to try and speak to the girls.
My mission? To find a roadside prostitute who would be happy for me to accompany them for a week to document the daily life of a highway hooker.
Being a woman helped in getting them to talk with me. Although a handful told me to fuck off, I finally came across one friendly working girl willing to talk; Linda.
Like many of the girls, Linda was a gypsy prostitute from the Roma community. She was intrinsically stunning with jet black hair, hypnotic dark eyes, and natural blowjob lips.
Funny, chatty, and with a very positive energy overall, I took a shine to Linda immediately, and it didn’t take long for us to strike up a rapport from one sex worker to another.
“If you wanna hang out with me, meet me at the ‘Whore’s Cafe’ each morning.” Whilst flicking back her silky black hair, Linda said, “That’s where I have breakfast.”
The Daily Life of a Gypsy Hooker Began In “The Whore’s Cafe”
28-year-old Linda began her day at a roadside cafe near the highway. Due to the abundance of sex workers using the place, it had affectionately been nicknamed the ‘Whore’s Cafe’.
Inside this grimy eatery was a blend of truck drivers, bikers, tradespeople, and a gang of streetwise women dressed like whores.
It was a bizarre contrast indeed. The working girls kept to themselves and ignored any sleazy comments made by male customers unless they were paying.
The sound of fried food and coffee being made was interrupted by the snap of stripper heels cutting through the air.
A strong black coffee, a can of coke, and a chain of cigarettes seemed to be the breakfast of choice for most of the girls.
“I try not to eat before 13:00,” Linda informed me after I asked about the lack of food for breakfast, “It’s weird, but a lot of guys seem to want anal sex in the morning, and eating before isn’t a good idea.”
Some girls eyed me suspiciously because they’d never seen me before. But it takes one to know one, and most ignored me when they realized I was a whore just like them.
I paid for Linda’s coffee and cigarettes as we got to know each other better. We swapped stories of our life, sex work, and the plan for the week.
I was to keep her company on the road, keep an eye out for her, and document everything in words and photos.
“Come on, babe”, Linda purred as the last of her coffee slid down her wet throat, “we’ve got a long day ahead!”
The First Client of The Day
As we walked up the highway, I flinched as trucks flew past us. After a few kilometres, we’d arrived at Linda’s workspace, a layby with a pink plastic chair marked by old tires.
Behind the layby was a narrow road leading into a wooded area. A smell of stale urine, car exhausts, and cheap perfume hung in the air like a cloud.
Cars would slow down and gawp at us. Men would stare in awe, and well-dressed women would stare in disgust on their way to work.
But before long, the first car pulled into the layby looking for cheap love on the highway. Linda sprung into action.
Her heels scraped the dust as she leaned in the window to flirt with this mid-30s guy from The Czech Republic and discuss services and prices.
“For an extra ten euros, my friend can come and watch,” Linda said to him whilst boldly pointing at me. “Would you like that, baby? She’s a nasty, horny bitch like me.”
The day’s first client was fully on board and soon led by the hand into the wooded area, with me awkwardly following close behind.
In the trees was an old mattress covered in a cheap camouflage sheet. It was caked in cum, pussy grool, and goodness knows what.
The dirty ground around it was littered with countless used condoms, packets of lube and wet wipes.
Once he had paid, Linda pulled up her miniskirt and slapped a layer of spit into her pussy, and in the space of a few seconds, she was mounted and fucked hard in Doggystyle.
“Ohh, fuck yes! Give it to me, baby!” Linda roared in faux pleasure. “Make me cum, make me cum, yes, yes, yesss! I’m your favourite little whore, aren’t I?”
Of course, it was completely fake, but I couldn’t help myself. Sitting on the filthy mattress which stuck to my thighs when I sat down, I began rubbing my pussy.
This guy could seriously fuck. He was pounding Linda with serious momentum and showed no sign of cumming. But I knew the aim of the game, and I wanted to help Linda out.
“Pssst!” I said, making the client turn around to see my wet pussy, “watching your big dick is making me so wet. Let’s cum together?”
It sent the guy over the edge. He erupted inside Linda’s pussy as I faked an orgasm in sync. Linda handed him a wet wipe before she promptly dropped to a squat.
A gush of hot piss splashed on the ground as Linda’s bladder erupted. A big cock will make a girl do that, and I know that post-sex pee feeling all too well.
Rather than cleaning himself up, the client began to masturbate his semi-erect cock to the sight of Linda pissing all over the filthy forest floor. Clearly, someone had a piss fetish.
“Hey! Allo!” Linda barked whilst snapping her fingers at him, “you want to watch, you pay!”
Linda took no shit. Somewhat embarrassed, the client slid his cock back into his trousers and rushed back to his car before disappearing into the distance.
“Thanks for helping to make him cum, Moni,” Linda said whilst pulling her skirt up, “I thought he was going to be here all day!”
A Family Affair
Unemployment, poverty, and widespread discrimination blight the Roma community across Central and Eastern Europe.
For many, prostitution is one of the few jobs available to women. Linda, the youngest of three siblings, was not the first woman in her family to pursue a casual career in sex work.
“My mother worked as a prostitute, and my grandmother did before her,” Linda told me blatantly. “They taught me everything I know about this game; there’s no taboo in it. It’s a fact of life for us.”
From self-defence against dangerous men to the skills to make clients cum quicker and get back out on the road, Linda’s sex work skills have been passed down through generations.
“All of my sisters do this too, but we don’t work on the same stretch of road,” Linda said with a drag of her cigarette. “Sometimes we compare how many men we’ve made cum in a week; it’s fun!”
A Love of Motorbikes
The road has been quiet for the past hour, and business for sex workers on this lonely stretch of highway is slow.
The quiet ambience of tweeting birds and Linda flicking through viral videos on her phone is interrupted by the hum of a motorbike engine approaching.
Linda jumps from her plastic seat, causing her meaty tits to bounce wildly, and waves down the motorbike driver. As he slows, she sticks her tongue between her fingers at him.
“I love motorbikes, just like my mum,” Linda told me enthusiastically, “they give me so much adrenaline, and I love the feeling of the engine vibrating in my pussy!”
The motorbike rider, a well-built Hungarian guy in his mid-20s, took off his helmet and started flirting with Linda before disappearing into the bushes with her.
I listened to the rustling leaves, loud gagging sounds, and moans of pleasure as Linda got to work on this horny biker.
When they reappeared five minutes later, Linda’s eyes were red and raw, and a string of fresh cum was plastered on the left side of her mouth.
“Moni! Moni!” she shouted excitedly whilst passing me her phone, “he said I can take a photo on his bike; I can’t wait to show this to my mum!”
Bemused by Linda’s excitement, the rider was busy wiping her spit off his dick with a wet wipe she’d handed him.
“Take this, babe,” I said to Linda taking the used wet wipe from her latest client, “wipe the cum off your face before I take the photo!”
In The Street, I’m Looked Down Upon. Here, I’m a Goddess!
Linda was used to being treated as a second-class citizen in her hometown. Hungarians would refuse her service in stores and push her out of the way in the street because of her Roma ethnicity.
“I don’t know why they do it, maybe they had some bad experience with Roma, and it’s stayed with them ever since,” Linda told me solemnly, “but I guess I’m used to it now”.
Bizarrely, Linda’s personal and work life were worlds apart.
“In the street, I’m looked down upon, but men look at me at work like a goddess. I love it!”
Men with particular kinks of sex worker worship would pull into Linda’s layby and pay to lick the sweat from her ass in the height of summer. But that’s only the tip of the iceberg.
“Some men even pay to lick my heels!” She told me proudly, “One guy comes to me weekly, I take him in the trees, and he strips naked. As I smoke a cigarette, he licks my heels from top to bottom until they’re sparkling clean. Then, he buries his nose in them until he makes himself cum. Easy work!”
The Highlights of a Slutty Working Week
I was in a strictly observant role, and I didn’t want to step on Linda’s toes, so I was mostly a fly on the wall among her various clients.
I watched as Linda took dicks from both ends by two hungover university students, saw her grimace as a large Hungarian cock ravaged her asshole, and watched her mouthwash bottle deplete after continuously washing out mouthfuls of cum.
Towards the end of the week, Linda made me a proposition. It was one I couldn’t refuse.
“If you really want to get an insight into this life, why don’t you fuck one of the clients?” She said boldly.
I was given the choice of guy to fuck, and I chose a shaven-headed guy in his early forties. He was dressed smart and looked hot.
He only wanted “a quickie, ” discounted missionary sex—a quick pump and dump. The money was given to Linda, and I led him into the bushes.
He was already rubbing his cock at my ass, swaying in front of him. I lay on the filthy, cum-stained mattress and spread my legs for him.
The absolute sleaze of it all made my pussy instantly wet. I could feel the ominous patches of bodily fluids sticking to my body as he climbed on top of me.
As he climbed between my thighs and fucked me, the forest air and the sunshine on my skin were a huge turn-on. I stuck my tongue deep down his ear and slapped his bare ass.
Looking down, I could see his bare balls scraping the obscene material of the mattress. This was diabolical sex, and I loved it.
I felt his body quake, and I wrapped my legs around him as he melted into my tits and sprayed jets of hot spunk into the condom.
As he got dressed, I decided to make the most of the experience. On the sleazy mattress, I rubbed my pussy in front of him until I reached a wet and messy orgasm.
In his post-orgasm state, he looked almost bewildered at the audacity of the whore in front of him. I licked my pussy grool-covered hand clean, and he left without saying a word.
It was raw, sleazy sex at its finest—a sex industry experience I don’t regret.
Business Or Pleasure?
It was time to ask Linda an important question; did she like her work? Her answer astounded me.
“At first, I hated it. I was so shy and hated how people driving past looked at me. But after a while, I soon got really into it.”
Linda confessed she had developed a huge sex drive, and working on the roads was a good way to quench her lust.
“I love picking my outfits for the week and designing them, so it makes men’s dicks hard when they drive past. It can be hard work to fuck a guy with a huge dick. Especially if he can last for a long time.”
From the downsides of her accidental orgasms, meaning she has to stand in damp stockings all day to jaw ache after sucking cocks all day, speaking with Linda about the intricacies of this job was fascinating.
But no jobs come without their dangers, and working as a gypsy prostitute on the highways of Europe was no exception.
The Dangers of Roadside Prostitution
“There he is again, the fucker!” Linda said, clutching a can of pepper spray in her handbag. “We see him every day. He creeps us out.”
She was talking about an unsettling older man who slowly drives along the road staring at the women. The girls warn ahead, and everyone looks out for each other here.
Sadly, the police can’t be relied on by the girls. Many of them made claims of blatant discrimination and harassment because of their Roma ethnicity.
“I’ve been attacked before. We always make sure there’s another girl within earshot of us. You just never know what’s going to happen, she said melancholically, “it can be a dangerous job.”
Whilst prostitution is legal here, this type of sex work on the side of the road is unregulated and comes with its own risks. But Linda is undeterred.
As another client left her layby, Linda walked out of the bushes bow-legged and asked me for some wet wipes. Leaking down her thighs was the unmistakable sight of a creampie.
Squatting over the dusty ground, ropes of cum leaked out of her pussy as she cleaned her sticky thighs. “Doesn’t bareback with customers scare you?” I asked.
“Guys pay triple the price for bareback,” Linda said, with a voice straining to get the cum out of her. “I take PrEP and ask the guys not to cum in me, but some can’t help it.”
From used condoms and baby wipes to empty cans of energy drinks and bottles of beer, s someone who cares for the environment, it did grate me to see the sheer mess of the roadside sex industry.
However, the girls claimed they had no choice. There was no garbage collection here, and nobody will come in and clean such sleazy waste. It was a necessary evil of the job.
As dusk fell, the road of sin began emptying of sex workers, prompting Linda and me to follow suit. The roads are far from safe after dark.
“The thought of working after dark scares me,” Linda said whilst counting her earnings from the day, “you never know who is out there, and the cars and trucks can’t see you”.
I asked Linda what spooked her more, the dangers from traffic or the risk from dangerous people.
“People,” Linda said bluntly.
It was time for us to go.
A Fun Farewell to a Gypsy Prostitute
By the end of the week, I’d got to know Linda like a close friend. I’d also become close to the other working girls on the highway who’d often wander to other laybys to chat and pass the time.
After earning their trust, I was invited to a weekly gypsy prostitute ritual, a Friday night drinking session at a local dive bar.
Dark, dingy, and dimly lit by dull red neon lights, this was a real whore’s hangout. The sound of tacky folk music cut through the air, and I felt right at home.
We partied, danced, and talked deep into the night amongst other local men and women who drank at the bar.
As I sat with the girls, I noticed some hadn’t changed their outfits since work. Looking down at their heels, some still sported erotic stains on their heels and stockings.
As I entered the narrow corridor to the toilet, I spotted Natasha, one of the other Roma prostitutes working on the highway who I’d spoken to throughout the week.
Propped up on a beer keg with her miniskirt hiked up her thigh and one leg in the air, she was being fucked by a sleazy middle-aged man with a large beer belly.
“Ohh, hey Moni!” Natasha said with a filthy grin and a glint in her eye, “there’s no such thing as being off the clock, is there, babe?”
As I bid each girl a fond farewell with a hug, the scent of cheap perfume, stale cigarettes, and the unmistakable stench of sex filled my nose. It was hypnotic.
For these girls, sex was a way of life. An avenue out of poverty and persecution, they had utilized it to their advantage, despite the dangers and obstacles they faced.
Strong, determined, entrepreneurial, formidable, and with hearts of gold, I was so grateful to have the chance to experience a week embedded with the roadside whores of Europe.
Disclaimer: This article does not intend to promote or glorify prostitution; it instead aims to bring attention to the real-life roadside sex industry in Central and Eastern Europe.