by Nikki Turner
Mrs. Tarsha was the manager of Pretty in Pink and her husband, Mr. George, was our entertainment lawyer. Together, they were a force to be reckoned with. Mr. George spoiled Mrs. Tarsha rotten like she was his own child, which is understandable, considering that he was nearly sixty-five years old. She’d had about five plastic surgeries so far, drove three sports cars, and lived in a phat-ass crib. Jasmine was one lucky girl, I tell you.
We had just finished our fifth song on the album when my boo called and asked if I could stop over at his house because his roommate was gone for the night. From the moment he told me that we were going to be alone, I knew it was on. My pussy began to moisten the crotch of my panties from the thought of how good he made my body feel. “What a perfect way to end a perfect day,” I mumbled to myself as I grabbed my pocketbook and headed out the door. I just wrote and recorded a very hot song and now I’m going to get some dick; bing-bang, life is grand!
It was 8:00 p.m., which was perfect because I had two hours to spend with Shawn and head home without my parents suspecting a thing. On my way over, I sprayed on perfume, touched up my makeup, and fixed my hair. All of this would be in vain, because all Shawn was going to do was mess it up as usual. Still, I had to be cute as a button.
My boo was cute and sexy, and had a nice flow of dough coming in from hustling for his cousin, Rex, who owned the studio that we were recording in. He drove a Black Tahoe, and always gave me money whenever we hooked up, so it’s safe to say that I enjoyed hooking up with him as much as possible. The dick was good, the head was marvelous, but the best part of dating Shawn, or should I say Shawn-Da-Don, was that he was a dynamic producer. As a matter of fact, that’s how we met.
Mrs. Tarsha took us to Rex’s studio to listen to some instrumentals and he was down there making a very hot track for this rap group called Black Out. She kept telling me how pretty Shawn thought I was and gave me the okay to go over and formally introduce myself. Then she made us exchange numbers and suggested that we go upstairs to the bedroom to talk more privately. To make a long story short, I fucked him not even an hour after that, and from then on, Shawn began to give the group free tracks, which saved Mrs. Tarsha a lot of money. The way I saw it, I was investing in my career.
Shawn knew the drill about me lying to my parents to spend time with him, so we never wasted time on foreplay when we hooked up. It was always a strong, hot physical chemistry that pulled our bodies together like magnets.
I knocked on the basement door and within seconds, my boo opened up wearing nothing but a pair of Polo boxer shorts. Damn, this brother looked like a scrumptious Snickers bar, and I was feeling mighty hungry.
“Hello, baby,” he greeted as he opened the door and looked me up and down like I was a buffet table and he didn’t know where to begin. “What’s up with you tonight?” Very much aware that I was pressed for time, I simply reached into my pocketbook, pulled out a red nylon cloth, and stuffed it directly into his mouth.
“That’s what’s up with me tonight,” I replied as I made my way over to the couch and began removing the rest of my clothes. I was racing the clock and wasn’t going to spend a minute engaging in small talk. For me, there was nothing to talk about.
Shawn pulled the cloth out of his mouth, looked at it, and saw that he was holding my thong. Being the freak that he is, he slowly rubbed it across his face and sniffed it.
“Oh, so you’re ready for this dick, huh? Well, bend that phat ass over and let me see that juicy pussy.” Before turning around and assuming the position, I stood up, stuck my tongue deeply into his mouth, and stole a big kiss. The texture and deep stroke of his tongue sent bolts of friction to my clitoris.
The way I passionately sucked his tongue only made me yearn to put other parts of him into my mouth, so I kneeled down and removed his boxers. His big cock stood up in front of my eyes as if it was standing to sing our national anthem. As a matter of fact, I was damn near saluting that shit in my mind; that’s how official it looked. I pledge allegiance to this dick of the United Dick Suckers of America.
I wasted no time sticking Shawn’s love stick deeply into the back of my throat as he began thrusting back and forth. As soon as he felt the first stroke, he grabbed a handful of my hair and let out a loud moan. The sound of his baritone voice going up two pitches like he was singing falsetto gave me confidence that I was doing a very good job.
“Damn, damn, shit, baby. You suck this dick so fucking good. Oh yeah, suck that shit, bitch.” The dirtier he talked to me, the more turned on I got. I began to switch up the flow of my head game while wrapping my lips deeper and deeper around his dick until the entire thing became shiny and hard. I then took his balls in my hands and massaged them while sucking his luscious pole.
“Wait, baby, stop, stop before I cum. Please don’t drain me, Melissa. I want some of that good, wet pussy.” A bitch knows she’s bad when her man has to beg her not to make him erupt. That right there shows me that I’m in total control when a dick is between these strong jaws.
“Do you really want me to stop?” I asked, looking straight into his eyes, with his dick still plunging to the back of my throat. Nothing turns a man on more than a pretty bitch sucking his dick while looking him dead in his eyes. It’s the thrill of that forbidden innocence being displayed in a sexual environment that gets him. And if you really want to add sparks to the room, let one teardrop fall down your cheek. Sounds crazy, huh? Try that shit and watch how fast that dick erupts.
“Melissa, stop! Baby, you’re about to make me cum; stop!”
“Okay, I’m going to be a good girl tonight. I’m not going to take it from you,” I arrogantly replied as I walked back to the couch, planted my face in the cushion, and bent over. You know, giving him the facedown, ass-up position.
“Come on and fuck me then, Shawn.” I knew that I was in charge, and I loved every second of it.
I didn’t get my last word out before he put one of his legs up on the couch, pulled me closer to him, and inserted every inch of his dick inside me. The first stab is always the most painful. I screamed because it felt like it went straight into my back.
My pussy was drenched to the point that my juices were running down my legs. Shawn tried his best to work me out, but the truth is, I was just too damn good and wet. I knew he was going to cum any minute now because his strokes slowed while his heavy breathing increased.
“Oh, oh, shit … I’m cumming, baby. I’m cumming.” Shawn pushed himself to the limit to get every drop of this good-good wet-wet before pulling out and creaming on my lower back and ass. Let’s just say that for about ten minutes we both laid down on the couch speechless ’cause I needed to regain my strength before going home.
After getting ourselves together, I quickly washed up to remove any sexual scent that might still be lingering on me. As usual, Shawn hit me with a couple of hundreds, handed me a few tracks for the group, and sent me on my merry way. True, we didn’t have love, but we had a lot of lust for each other, which made our relationship more than perfect. I didn’t need his love; all I needed was those blazing-ass tracks anyhow.
In my head I practiced the lies I was going to tell my parents when I got home. I wasn’t late because I still had a whole half hour before curfew; however, I did miss Bible study, which was like missing your own wedding in my parents’ eyes. Let’s see, tonight I think I’ll tell them I failed a math test and went over to Kimberly Matthews’s house to study. My parents were very fond of her ’cause she was smart as hell and her mother sat on the board at church. Also, Kimberly was my friend, so I knew she’d definitely back up any story I gave.
Both of my parents were sitting in the living room when I walked through the door, which wasn’t uncommon. My father had a stern look on his face, and my mother looked upset. Here we go again. They’re about to grill me about going to church.
“Hello,” I nonchalantly said as I headed toward the kitchen to get a cold drink. My father barely looked my way, as if I hadn’t just said hello to h
im. The expression on his face never changed, and I knew he was pissed off about something. My mother, however, walked over, grabbed me by the arm, and forcefully demanded that I take a seat.
“Wait just a minute, young lady. We have something to talk to you about, and depending on your decisions tonight, you may not need to go into the kitchen because you’ll need to go to your room and pack your things.”
Oh brother, what the hell is going on? I’ve come into this house late many times before, and the one night I’m on time, she’s talking about putting me out. That sounded totally backward to me. Not one for wasting time, I asked them straight up what was going on, because I wasn’t going to sit and play charades, especially while I was still on the high that Shawn just gave me. “What do y’all have to talk to me about? What did I do now?” I asked in a bored tone.
My father, who I guess was the good cop, continued to sit and ignore me while “Mother Commando” played the bad cop. “So you missed Bible study?”
“I told you before that I can’t control what time the games are over,” I interrupted. “Do you want me to quit the team? Because I’m tired of having the same conversation every time we have a game or late practice.” My mother looked at my father and smirked as he turned toward me and shook his head. That was the only time he displayed any emotion, and I didn’t like it because it seemed like they had something over me. “What do you want me to do?” I asked.
My father jumped from his seat and yelled, “What we want you to do is stop lying in this house! Stop lying to your mother! Stop lying to me! Stop lying to yourself! And stop trying to lie to God when he knows the truth! Stop it, stop it, stop it!” I’ve heard my father scream and holler over the years, particularly on Sundays, when he’s at the peak of his sermon, but this was something new. He was furious with me and why, I didn’t know. I’d been so careful about covering my tracks that I couldn’t imagine my parents knowing anything about the group or Shawn.
“I’m not lying,” I replied, feeling confused about what was really going on. “I went over to Kimberly’s house after volleyball practice to study for a math test. I didn’t call because—”
“Oh, just shut your mouth, Melissa. We know you’re not on the volleyball team. As a matter of fact, volleyball season ended months ago, and from what Mrs. Clifford, the volleyball coach, said you were never on the team to begin with. So I met with your teachers, who told me your grades have dropped drastically since you joined that R&B group. They said you’ve missed days of school, and when you do show up, you’re barely awake.” Oh, shit, I’m dead. I knew I was backed against the wall, but I kept my composure.
“Your math teacher said the only things you’re focused on are music and boys. He said you sit in his class writing songs, and you’ve failed every test he gave this year. When I asked him why he didn’t contact us a long time ago, he showed me the progress report, which to my surprise had my signature on it, which is confusing, since I never saw that paper before.” My father was so upset his hands were trembling. I was speechless, and it didn’t make any sense to lie anymore.
As my parents both took turns grilling me, it became clear that someone from church had dropped a dime on me. Turns out that one of my stupid friends was talking on the phone about me and their mother overheard. She in turn called my parents, who then went to the school to verify what they’d heard. It was so unfair. I didn’t mind getting caught because I knew that was one of the consequences of lying; you win some, and you lose some. What I did find disturbing was that I was going down because of someone else’s big mouth. I’m on the chopping board because some bitch decided to be all up in my business and let her meddling mother snitch on my ass.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay, but you guys put too much pressure on me, and I have to live my life. I’m sixteen years old but you treat me like I’m six. It’s no secret how much I love music; not the type of music that you force me to sing, but the music I actually love. Daddy, you wanted to be a preacher, and you followed your heart and became a preacher. Well, I did the same except I chose R&B over gospel. I’m not saying I’ll never sing gospel music because it’s uplifting and I enjoy singing lots of it; but I’ll be the next big R&B star. Why can’t I just have your support?”
“Look, young lady!” Mother Commando yelled. “I’ve warned you on numerous occasions about the dangers of that music and forbade you to join that group. It’s apparent to me that you respect neither me nor your father, and I will not tolerate that. After coming back from your school, your father and I went to your room to see what else you may have been hiding. Let’s just say we found some things that brought tears to our eyes. I saw your love letters and pictures, and even found and listened to the CDs you had stashed under your mattress. Melissa, you are sexually active. You’ve given away a precious gift that God gave you to save for your husband.” My mother began to cry, and I could see the pain in her eyes. At that moment, I realized how serious the situation was for me. Then my father took over.
“I’m going to cut to the chase because I’m embarrassed beyond imagination, and your mother can’t take any more of this. Do you know how it feels to have someone tell you your daughter is not worthy to stand in your own pulpit?” I didn’t answer because I was too busy thinking of ways to get out of this situation. “Do you?” my father yelled louder than the first time.
“No, sir, I don’t,” I replied under my breath. I was scared. I truly didn’t expect that this day would come so soon. I was hoping to at least hold on to these secrets until I turned eighteen.
“Well, it’s not a good feeling when you’re the pastor of the church and hear that kind of news from a member. It’s even worse when you have to stand up and hear every teacher in the school say nothing but bad things about your child. I don’t know where we went wrong, Melissa, but I can tell you that I’m going to make it right tonight!” he yelled as he banged his fist on our coffee table. “You have two choices at this point. You can ask God for forgiveness, quit that group, and turn your life around before it’s too late, or you can go upstairs, pack your things, and go. Those are the two options that I’m giving you, and you must choose one tonight!”
Quit the group? Were they fucking insane? Being a part of Pretty in Pink meant the world to me, and I wasn’t going to give that shit up anytime soon. I would promise to quit fucking Shawn before I promised to quit the group. I couldn’t believe that those were the only two choices for me. On top of it all, I couldn’t believe that my parents were so wrapped up in upholding their image that they were actually considering putting me out on the street. They were so hypocritical. It’s got to be a sin to put your underage child out of the only home she’s known, just for being true to herself.
We argued back and forth, and at the end of the day, I had to make a decision, so I did. “Mom and dad, I love you both to death and I know that I’ve hurt you. Please believe me when I say that wasn’t my intention, but I have to follow my heart, and my heart is leading me to be in that group. I cannot and will not quit Pretty in Pink because we’re a team and we’re very close to getting a recording deal. So if you want me to leave, then I’ll go. I don’t want to, but if I have to choose my warm bed over singing for the group, then I’ll say goodbye to that bed without thinking twice.”
“Okay, Miss Melissa James,” my father sarcastically said. “Get your things and leave my home tonight.” I looked over at my mother to see if this was what she really wanted and she turned away from me as if I were already dead to her. Then she said, “I will pray for you, my child, and ask God to show you the light. One day you will look back and understand where I’m coming from. I declare that one day God will truly touch your heart, and on that day, if my eyes are still open, then these doors will be too. However, if you can’t abide by our rules—no, I take that back—if you can’t abide by God’s rules, then you have to go. I will not allow the devil to destroy my home, and that’s what’s going to happen if I let you stay here and continue living the sinful life that
you’re living.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but it became very clear to me that this was real as I packed my clothes and left the only home I’d ever known. My mother had threatened me before, but I never in a million years actually thought they’d abandon me. Since they were so-called Christians, I just never thought they had it in them to really put me out on the street, all because I “chose music over God,” as my father so bluntly put it.
I called Shawn and told him what happened, and he had the nerve to ask me, “So where are you going to stay?” Apparently he had no intention of helping me, so I went down the list, calling other dudes who I was dealing with, but they all said the same stupid shit, “So where are you going to stay?” I couldn’t believe that I was in this predicament. It still hadn’t registered that I no longer had a roof over my head. Besides that, all this pussy I gave up to these niggas and none of them was making a move to at least come and get me from the side of the road; oh, hell no! I couldn’t believe this shit.
After calling about a million no-good niggas, I decided to call some bitches for help. The first person I called was Jasmine. As soon as she picked up, I began crying and telling her what went down at home word for word. She told me to calm down, then handed her mom the phone. When she came on the line, I repeated my story, except this time around, I made sure to pile it on for sympathy. “Mrs. Tarsha, I have to leave the group because I don’t have anywhere to live. My parents somehow found out what’s been going on and they basically told me to quit the group or move out. I couldn’t do that to Jasmine and Tiffany after all we’ve been through. I begged and pleaded with them but they wouldn’t listen and kicked me out.” I let out a big cry loud enough to be heard in Japan. “I feel like I’m going to die. I want to kill myself.”