Chapter Four
Sammy
“Girl, use what you got to get what you want,” Kawanda said to me. “I do it all the time. Selling this phat, sweet pussy pays my bills and you see a bitch ain’t ever broke.”
I listened to what she was telling me, and she was telling me a lot about stripping and tricking. It was a lot of money in the game, especially tricking; men were willing to pay handsomely for sex with a beautiful and curvy woman, but I still held on to my morals. I just couldn’t go there like that. It was my pussy and to give it out so freely to make a dollar, it bothered me greatly. I was making good money just dancing. I wasn’t banking heavily like the girls who turned tricks in the backrooms, but I was surviving, making my decent ends.
Kawanda had encouraged me to do a few out-of-club parties for groups of men: private parties, birthday parties, bachelors’ parties, sex parties, and so on. I would be paid an upfront fee, and whatever I made there, it was mines to take home. She explained that there was good money in doing these parties, so I decided to give it a try.
I took a strong pull from the burning blunt between my lips, allowing the weed to influence me, and then I looked at my reflection in the outsized bathroom mirror, being in the presidential suite at the swanky Marriot hotel in Times Square. I was getting dressed and preparing myself to entertain a hotel room full of hungry men. I wasn’t the only girl entertaining; three other girls, including Kawanda, were already scantily clad, perfumed up, high off haze, and maybe tipsy while in the extravagant room dancing and flirting with over a dozen mixed muthafuckas. I was the last to get dressed.
Kawanda and I had shared a cab from the Bronx to the city; we split the fifty dollar fare and strutted through the grand atrium pulling our rolling luggage behind us. I left Danny with my elderly neighbor, paying her twenty-five dollars a night to babysit my son. I figured this gig was going to be an all-nighter for me. Kawanda boasted that these niggas paid well and loved black girls. I was hyped.
As I got dressed, I could hear hip hop music blaring from the room and men shouting and yelling all kinds of obscenities to the dancers, hooting and hollering like a pack of wolves. They were having a grand old time with the girls. I got dressed in something truly sexy and eye-catching: a VIP minidress featuring a halter neckline with string ties and a silver weave for a glittery effect. Underneath the see-though outfit I wore a bright G-string and my dark nipples showing. I wore my bright red, six-inch stilettos with my platinum wig and my body glistening with glitter. I didn’t have to borrow any of my friends’ outfits anymore; over the weeks I had acquired my own stuff and my own taste.
I stepped out into the party with my flirtatious smile and long strut. The minute I entered the room, the lustful eyes and smiles were glued to me. Now, these Wall Street and white-collar businessmen had something new to ogle over and play with. There was a sprinkle of black men in the place, but it was these white crackers who were drooling a great deal with their hard, white dicks protruding from their tight slacks and khakis, and yearning to get them a piece of some blackberry.
I wasn’t in the room no more than a minute, when two bushy-haired white males came rushing my way with fistfuls of money. They were wide-eyed at my beauty and my scrumptious figure. These white boys, they had money to burn, far more than niggas at the club were spending. I saw only twenties and fifty dollar bills in these crackers’ hands and they were willing to spend it all on some black pussy.
The night got started in great fun, and then it got really kinky. Everyone was drinking and smoking, getting tipsy with the hip hop music blaring. The girls were all over these white boys like wallpaper on wall. Kawanda, looking almost buck-naked in a teeny-weeny string monokini with microcups and string thong back, was damn near fucking this white boy on the couch. He touched and groped her body everywhere as she ground against his crotch and tongue kissed him. Next thing I saw, he was pulling out his dick and she was jerking him off right there in front of everyone. He tilted his head back from the blissful pleasure and moaned. Just like that, it was turning into that type of party.
I was giving this chunky, pale-looking white boy a sensual lap dance as he stuffed one big face dead president after another down my G-string. I had my tender chocolate nipples mush in his face and felt his erection poking me intensely. I worked the room like magic, jumping from one customer to another, enjoying the big tips and flirting heavily to make my money. From my peripheral vision, I noticed Kawanda pull her customer up from the chair by having his dick in her hand. She was butt-ass naked with her heels in her hands and leading the man into a private bedroom where he could enjoy her a lot more. The girls were constantly in and out of bedrooms in the suite, fucking and sucking these white boys for a high price and they were coming back out with a fistful of money and a smile larger than anything.
An hour went by, and I was still just dancing, having them touch me anywhere they wanted to, maybe suck on my nipples and let them feel between my thighs, and touch this pussy, but the real money was having sex. I was offered the chance for a private session with a few white boys, but I would gently turn down the offer. I wasn’t ready to prostitute myself like that. When I took a break to go into the bathroom, Kawanda boasted about making $1,500 already. I made close to $400, but at my rate, it was snail money compare to my coworkers sexing these white boys down.
The next hour, I found myself dancing for this cutie with blue eyes and what looked like a promising physique behind his stylish attire. He resembled Brad Pitt. He tipped me nicely and touched me so dotingly that I found myself getting wet and aroused. He was dressed in a sharp three-piece suit, sporting his gold Rolex and diamond ring. He looked smart and well established. I could tell by the way he looked at me that he was extremely attracted to me.
“I love black woman,” he whispered in my ear with his hand on my tit.
I felt his bulge and he seemed to be packing some nice in his pants. He cupped my tits as I ground my pussy against his bulging crotch. Since I started dancing for him, he already placed $500 in my G-string and was willing to pay me a lot more.
“You’re beautiful,” he said to me, smiling.
“Thank you.”
“What is your name, if you don’t mind me asking?” He was such a gentleman.
Of course I couldn’t give him my government name, and I gave him my stripper name. “My name is Bambi.” Now I really don’t know why I came up with the name Bambi, it sounded like a reasonable stripper name to me, and it was the only suitable name that I could come up with since so many other names were already taken. And it didn’t hurt that I was a huge fan of the movie when I was young.
“I like that, Bambi. You definitely look like a Bambi,” he said.
He played me close like liquor on a drunk man’s breath as I ground on his lap and pressed my lovely breasts against his chest. His cologne was so alluring. The fragrance pleased my nostrils and made me feel high. He was the finest-looking white boy in the room and I had his undivided attention.
“And what’s your name?” I asked him.
“Travis.”
“Nice name.”
“Thank my mother.”
“I need to thank her for a lot more things than just your name,” I flirted, feeling his bulging erection move between my thighs.
He chuckled.
He fondled me. He kissed my nipples softly and I reached down and felt his dick swelling more and more in his pants. He looked at me and I looked at him. And then the inevitable happened. “How much for you?” he asked.
Damn. I sighed and didn’t respond.
“I mean, I don’t want to offend you, but I really like you and I’ll pay whatever you charge. I have money,” he stated.
I continued dancing on him, and didn’t know what to say. I guessed he took my silence for a no, but he wasn’t giving up. “I’ll give three thousand to have sex with you.”
Shit! $3,000 could help me in so many ways right now. Usually any girl would jump at the offer, but I was shocked at it. He was so hard between my legs that I thought his dick was going to rip through his pants and penetrate me. It felt so big.
“Bambi, you’re the only woman I’m attracted to in here and you’re about to have me burst like a balloon because I want you so badly. How about five thousand for your time?” He upped the offer and I couldn’t resist it. I damn sure needed the money. With the $900 I already made plus his five grand, it was going to be a very good night.
I took a deep breath and huffed out, “C’mon, let’s have some fun,” before I changed my mind. But I wasn’t going to change my mind. It was good money. I stood up and took him by the hand and led him to one of the unoccupied bedrooms in the suite.
The party was still going strong, and I became the final girl at the party who was about to suck and fuck a man for money. I was about to contradict myself, but for $5,000, who wouldn’t? I escorted him toward the bigger room down the hallway, and as I was about to enter the bedroom, the door swung open and Kawanda walked out still naked counting her money. A shirtless and big-bellied forty-year-old white man exited behind her looking like he had the best pussy ever. She had sexually pleased her umpteenth trick for the night and was still going strong. Her pussy had to be sore and her mouth had to somewhat numb, but she was a money-hungry girl.
When she saw me about to turn a trick, she smiled and winked at me. “You go, girl, get that money, and he a cutie. I ain’t mad at you,” she said.
I didn’t respond to her remark. I hurried inside the room. I felt embarrassed that she saw me go into the room with someone. Travis walked into the room and I closed the door behind him. This was it. The bedroom boasted floor-to-ceiling windows, a plasma TV, a king-sized bed, an overstuffed sofa, lovely furnishings, and a few other luxurious amenities.
Travis stood in the center of the bedroom and smiled at me. His deep blue eyes displayed his eagerness to have me. I locked the door to make sure we weren’t interrupted and strutted toward him in my sexy stilettos.
“You are truly beautiful,” he said. “I can’t wait to have you.”
“I can’t wait to feel you inside of me,” I replied, touching him gently and fondling his crotch area.
I could tell he wanted to kiss me, but I didn’t go there with him. He couldn’t have everything from me; I had to save something for myself. He pulled me into his strong, masculine arms and held me close. I never been with a white boy before and was glad that he would be my first. He was too fine. He started to foreplay with me by undressing me slowly and admiring every inch of me. He lowered his lips to my nipples and tenderly took them into his mouth and sucked on them so pleasingly with his lips and tongue. I couldn’t help but to moan from the wetness of his mouth sampling my flesh.
As he sucked my hard nipples with me in his grasp, my hands guided their way to his crotch area and I effortlessly unzipped his pants. I reached inside his trousers, searching for that magnificent piece of meat I felt poking between my legs when I was giving him a sensual lap dance. I didn’t have to search with my hands too long. His dick seemed to gravitate toward my touch; and when I palmed it in my manicured fist I could feel his size growing so big between my fingers. Travis had to adjust himself at times to accommodate the raging erection that he couldn’t control. He deflated the myth about white boys having small dicks. Travis was packing, and he was packing nicely.
I pulled his lengthy, big dick out of his zipper and stroked him lovingly. He moaned as my hand gladly glided back and forth against him, jerking him off satisfactorily. We were entangled in each other’s bliss. He pulled me closer and showered my neck with kisses and the moistness between my legs was a strong signal of the passion and intense fucking that was about to transpire.
Things got hot and heavy. For $5,000, I was his bitch all night long. He finally pulled himself away from my black essence and started to undress, but before he continued any further in taking off his clothes, he uttered, “Oh, I didn’t forget.”
He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a $10,000 stack of bills. It wasn’t the first time I seen money like that. When I used to hustle for Rico, I was stacking probably more then he was. But when a bitch is broke, it becomes impressive to see again. He peeled off nothing but hundred dollar bills and handed over the $5,000 that he owed me. I beamed. Now it was time to get this party started.
I got butt-ass naked for him, but kept my stilettos on. He couldn’t help but stare at my body, my beauty, my poise, and enchanting curves. But the surprise came my way when Travis completely undressed and his body was phenomenal. His tan flesh ripped with lean, cut muscles, the six-pack on his stomach looked sculpted, his strapping chest looked like it could be on the cover of Men’s Fitness, and between his legs was the nicest big dick I ever saw. It was already eight inches flaccid, and when it got erect, gotdamn, I was in for a workout.
I was ready to drop on my knees and suck his dick, but he didn’t want that. He just wanted to feel the inside of me.
“You have a condom?” I asked.
If he didn’t, it was easy to get one from the girls. But fortunately he did. He pulled out a Magnum condom from his pants pocket on the floor. He tore it open, rolled the latex back on his thick, long size, and was ready for me. He curved me over the bed and spread my legs in a downward V with my pussy exposed. He positioned himself behind me. I couldn’t believe I was selling my pussy, but money talks. He shoved his cock inside of me with force, stabbing my womb with his weapon of flesh. I gripped the sheets and moaned. His flesh filled me completely. As he fucked me from the back, he reached around and underneath me and rubbed my clit furiously and shoved his fingers in my pussy. It was intense pleasure.
“Ooooh shit. Ooooh shit, damn, damn,” I moaned animatedly from the extreme sensation.
My dark, sweet juices saturated the condom thrusting inside of me. He placed both hands on my shoulders and buried my face into the bed with my phat ass arched in the air. He shoved his cock in repeatedly, pushing, shoving, and ramming until every inch of him was embedded deep inside my glory hole.
“Damn, your pussy is so good, so fuckin’ good, so fuckin’ good. I love that dark berry juice. Give it to me, fuckin’ give it to me,” he raved.
He concentrated on making sure he drove every millimeter of his dick deep inside me and withdrew it all the way to the head before he rammed it in deeper and harder than before. He smacked my ass almost red from the spanking and my pussy gaped open like the Midtown Tunnel. White boy was a freak, but I loved it.
“You like that, don’t you, girl,” he said.
I grunted my affirmation and took a deep breath. He was all the way in and I was about to lose my mind. I pushed when he said push. I squeezed when he told me to; he gave the command and I followed. I trusted him to take care of me and he knew exactly how to control the situation so we both got maximum pleasure.
Twenty minutes later, he was still thrusting inside of me doggie style. It was his favorite position and he had complete stamina. I couldn’t front; he made me cum twice with his big dick in and out of me. Shit, we were in the room for so long other girls started knocking, wanting access. But my date needed to get his nut off inside of me. I started grinding my phat ass back on him. He grabbed my hips, worked his dick in and out.
“Ooooh shit, you gonna make me cum again,” I cried out. I buried my face into the pillow to keep the other girls from hearing how good the dick was to me.
I was chanting an erotic mantra.
“Oh shit, I love this black pussy. Ooooh, I love this black pussy,” he chanted. “I’m almost there. I’m almost there.”
He took a deep breath and gave me the last inch of his hard dick and both our legs started to tremble. I felt his dick swelling bigger inside of me. He was finally about to come. And when he did, he gripped my hips tightly, shivered uncontrollably, screamed out, “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuukk,” and then he suddenly pulled out, snatched the condom off his dick and I felt his hot cum splash on my back. I didn’t care where he came and how, as long as he didn’t do it inside of me raw.
We both were breathing heavily and my hair was in somewhat disarray from his constant grabbing and my face being pushed into the pillow. Travis was exhausted and drained. He pulled up his pants and smiled gratifyingly.
“Was is good?” I asked.
“Yo, that was some of the best pussy I ever had,” he complimented me.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
We both collected ourselves. My sexual servitude was done and I was happy to have five grand on me. He walked out of the room first; I made my exit two minutes later. I had to get right again. When I walked out the bedroom, there was Kawanda smiling at me. She was waiting to use the room again; the other two had just become occupied. Standing behind her was a black man this time, and the look on his face said he was ready to have the time of his life.
“Damn, girl, you had some fun?” she asked jokingly. “Shit, as fine as he was, I woulda spent an hour wit’ him. Did he pay you well?”
I smiled and walked away. It wasn’t any of her business. I already made my money and I was ready to leave. But the party in the presidential suite was still in full swing and it didn’t look like it was about to die down anytime soon. The men were drunk, horny, and having the time of their lives, and the girls, they were fucking and sucking everything moving in the room. It became a full-blown orgy when a few more girls showed up to get in on the action and they didn’t care where they did their business at, as long as it got done. Pussy and dick was from wall to wall, hip hop music still blaring, and mostly white men with their pants around their ankles, and tiny, hard dicks showing, were eager to stick their wieners into anything wet and sloppy.
I was glad more girls showed up; it made me fall back and just chill. I still flirted and gave lap dances, but when it came to the hardcore stuff, I let the other girls get their shine on. I already struck gold with Travis, and I told myself he would be the first and only trick I turned.
Five hours later, it was five in the morning and I was exhausted. I made $7,000 that night, and I was all smiles. I felt I didn’t need to dance at Crazy Legs anymore and degrade myself. I had enough money for rent, food, clothes, and other important things. But who was I kidding? $7,000 in New York would be gone in three, maybe four months tops, and since I didn’t have a high school diploma or GED, and didn’t have a baller boyfriend to spend on me, I was struggling.
The cab let us out on Laconia Avenue with dawn about to crack open the sky. Kawanda and I walked the block to our buildings feeling like we could sleep for days. I saw the police lights a half a block away and thought something happened, but when we got close, it was cops who pulled over a Chevy Impala with tinted windows and they were harassing the young hoods who had occupied the car. They had the three men handcuffed and lying face down on the ground as an officer thoroughly searched through their vehicle. It was obvious that they belonged to YGC. But it was crazy.
Kawanda and I minded our business and went into our building. The Bronx was heating up like an oven on Thanksgiving. I was sick of it. Gunshots every night, and niggas dying; this had been my world for so long that it felt I could never escape it.
When I got to my floor, I knocked on Ms. Wilson’s door to pick up my son. The heaviness in my eyes showed very much and my pussy still felt stretched out from Travis’s big dick in and out of me. I was paid a lot of money, but I felt dirty and used. The only thing I wanted to do when I walked into my apartment was take a long shower and sleep for hours. But that was going to be an impossible task if Danny was awake with his crying.
“Who?” I heard Ms. Wilson asked through the door.
“It’s me, Sammy.”
I heard the locks turn, and Ms. Wilson answered with the chain still on the door, glaring at me in her bedtime rollers and housecoat.
“Chile, you know what time it is,” she hissed at me.
“I know, I’m sorry, I just lost track of time, Ms. Wilson and then coming from the city . . .” I apologized sincerely.
She continued to glare at me. I didn’t want to keep explaining myself. I only wanted to pick up my son and just leave. “Is he still up?” I asked.
“He’s ’sleep, and you look like shit, chile,” she said.
“I just have a lot on my mind.”
“We all do. But you still need to be here to pick him up at a decent time.”
“I know.” I was willing to pay her more than twenty-five dollars for the extra help. “Well, can he—” I started, but she cut me off.
“Look, you don’t even have to ask me. He doesn’t need to be woke up at this time in the morning, and with you looking like that. I’ll keep him for the morning so you can go and get some rest.”
It was music to my ears. “Thank you.”
“But don’t make this a habit, Sammy.”
“I won’t.” I pulled out some money and handed her fifty dollars. Ms. Wilson wasn’t shy in taking the cash. She may have been old, but like me, she was about her money.
She stuffed the cash into her housecoat and shut the door. I went into my apartment and left a trail of clothes from the doorway to the bathroom. I couldn’t wait to get into the shower and scrub myself clean as the water cascaded down on me like a waterfall. In my mind, I felt like I traded in the drug game for prostituting myself. It had only been one date, but why did I feel ashamed?
I spent almost a half hour in the shower, cleansing myself after a dirty and wild night with millionaire white boys who saw black women as exotic and sexual pleasers for their limp white dicks. We sucked and fucked them for pennies compare to most of their net worth. We were a fantasy to them, and tonight, we made all of their sexual fantasies come true. I know I sure did for Travis.
I dropped all my cash on the bedroom dresser and stared at it for a minute. The heap of it sitting there, spilling over onto the floor, was very impressive. I worked hard to make it. I remembered what Kawanda had said to me: “Girl, use what you got to get what you want.” And I did just that, used what I had between my legs to get what I wanted, or what I needed to feed and clothe my son. I would count it again in the morning.
The minute I climbed into my bed to sleep and dream of some alternative place to be, some slice of heaven for me, pretending I didn’t spread my legs for a dollar tonight, the sounds of the ghetto brought me back to my reality.
Bak! Bak! Bak! Bak!
The gunshots echoed from the streets into my bedroom window at six in the morning, a clear indication that the streets never sleep and there was a war going on between two rival gangs.