The Game of Deception

by Victor L. Martin

  “There’s Club Bed.” Fly later pointed out as they cruised slowly down Collins Avenue.

  Ghetti was leaning out the window as two tipsy white girls flashed him their surgically enhanced tits. Ghetti settled back in his seat when Skyy turned into a club called Limelite II. He knew the club catered to the exclusive once security allowed them into the club’s private parking lot. He reached this mindset when Fly found a slot next to a dark-colored Maserati Quattroporte. He had to get a closer look when he got out.

  “Don’t stare,” Skyy said, walking up on him. “Makes you look thirsty.” Ghetti wanted to tell her prissy phat ass to shut the fuck up, but he bit his tongue. With Skyy leading the way, she walked them along the waiting line and straight up into the club on VIP status. The front door security knew Skyy by her name. Once inside, it was another world. Ghetti’s ears were assaulted by Jim Jones “We Fly High” as soon as he walked through the thick soundproof doors. The club was dimly lit with the lights throbbing to the beat. Strobe lights circled the packed dance floor, but in truth, the entire three level club was the dance floor because no one was standing still. Skyy was stopped nearly every five steps by someone she knew. A few even begged her to take a quick picture with them on their tiny camera phones. Ghetti felt out of place in his Phat Farm Jeans and lightweight pullover. Every dude he saw was dripping with eye-blinding ice or silk Versace bold color shirts. The club erupted even louder when Ludacris and Mary J. Blige’s “Runaway Love” began to pour from the ground shaking speakers. Skyy led them up to the third floor VIP section by going up in a greenish glass elevator. At the VIP booth, Ghetti took it upon himself to fill up his glass with some Cristal that came from the complimentary bottle that sat in a chrome bucket of ice. Skyy nodded at her empty glass.

  “Say please,” he said.

  Skyy rolled her smoky hazel eyes then took the bottle to pour it herself. Ghetti shook his head, biting his words. Fly poured Jazmine a glass to the rim then filled his up halfway.

  “Can I get a dance?” Ghetti asked Skyy, knowing she would turn him down.

  “Let me finish my drink?” she replied.

  Ghetti nearly choked from her response.

  Fly leaned over to whisper in Jazmine’s jeweled ear, and then told Ghetti he had to handle some business. Ghetti raised his glass. “No problem. I do believe I can entertain these two lovely ladies until you return,” he said all proper.

  Skyy rolled her eyes as Jazmine slid over sandwiching Ghetti between them. Ghetti wanted to touch Skyy so bad that it was close to torment. As for Jazmine, he was not pressed to deal with a white girl. Jazmine was taller than Skyy at 5’8, with a mouthful of C-cup breast. Jazmine carried most of the thickness in her ass and hips. The tiny shirt she wore exposed her flat belly. Jazmine was drinking the champagne like water and the more she consumed the more she talked.

  Skyy was young, but she acted well above her age. She finally spoke when Jazmine left for the ladies’ room.

  “Promise not to stare?” Skyy said.

  “Say whut?” Ghetti replied.

  Skyy raised her soft voice a bit and repeated herself.

  “At whut?” Ghetti asked.

  “Not at what, at who,” she said. “Tila Tequila is over to your left.”

  Ghetti casually glanced to his left and damn if Tila’s fine ass wasn’t lounging in a wraparound VIP booth with four other divas. What freaked him out was how Tila Tequila acknowledged Skyy.

  Ghetti didn’t want to appear star struck so he placed his attention back on Skyy.

  “How long you been modelin’?” he asked.

  “Not long. I started out stripping, to be honest.”

  “So all you do now is videos and manage your company?”

  “Yes, not bad for a teenager, huh?”

  “Hell no. Were you born in the U.S.?”

  “No, I was born in San Domingo.”

  “Must be excitin’ to live the life you do.” She shrugged her bare shoulders. “How do you know I’m happy?”

  “Shit! Look at you. You are fine as hell. You drive a new Benz, your condo is like some “Yo MTV Cribs” joint, you just got your shit together. Hell, you’re on speakin’ terms wit’ Tila Tequila and you just did a video wit’ Jay fuckin’ Z last week! What’s not to be happy about?” he said, wishing he could taste her glossy lips. He was still caught off guard about her accepting the offer to dance.

  “You’re funny,” she said, smiling.

  “And sometimes you got a slick ass mouth.”

  “Hmm, I see the drink took the ahhhhh, how can I put it? Let’s just say you’re not biting your tongue anymore?” She smiled.

  “Nah, I’m just trippin’. But you do get on my nerves a bit.”

  Skyy removed her stunna shades.” What else would you like for me to get on?” Before he could answer, she placed her index finger to his lips.

  “Let’s go dance. And you better have some skills,” she challenged.

  Ghetti led her down to the dance floor and found a spot to get his moves on. The first song was by T.I. “Top Let Back.” Even in her pointy heels, she moved like a goddess. At first, he thought she was gonna be on some don’t be all up on me type shit, but it was far from that. She was all up on him, sliding his hands down to her ass, and poppin’ it like she was having sex. Ghetti was dancing with an erection when she turned her back to him. Some Rasta dude tried to ease up on her from the front, but Ghetti deaded his move out the gate. The Rasta backed off.

  Skyy danced with her eyes closed. She felt safe in Ghetti’s space and she tolerated his erection. His rhythm was smooth and he knew just the right places to hold her. The club exploded when the DJ mixed in Shop Boyz “Party Like a Rockstar.” Skyy threw one hand in the air and continued to dance with Ghetti. Staying with the beat, she turned around to face him, locking her arms around his neck. After two more songs, she said she needed to take a break. Ghetti knew he was on a path to get between her thighs. The way she was rolling her hips on the dance floor was only a hint of how well she could be in bed. They were halfway back up to VIP when this Ashton Kutcher looking cat stopped her. Ghetti was seconds from checking dude, but Skyy had lit up with smiles when she saw him. She straight dissed Ghetti by not introducing him, leaving Ghetti looking stuck on stupid. Ghetti was heated! He felt stupid to even assume that she was feeling him. Heading back up to the VIP floor, he walked by a black and white couple. Call it what you want, but Ghetti could not stand to see a black woman with a white man. Ghetti would be the first to explain that he was not a racist. But when it came to a white dude with a black woman, he just couldn’t accept it. Oddly enough, he was back up in VIP sitting with a white woman, Jazmine. Since their booth was dimly lit, he was able to sit back in the cut and let off his steam from Skyy dissing him.

  “You’re riding home with us tonight,” Jazmine said when Ghetti slid into the booth.

  “Say whut?” he said slightly agitated.

  “Fly just left. Said something about going to Fort Lauderdale, so you’ll be riding with the girls tonight.” Her natural ocean blue eyes were glassy.

  Ghetti ordered himself a double shot of Ciroc.

  “Where’s Skyy?” she asked.

  “Don’t know, don’t care.”

  Jazmine knew that Ghetti liked Skyy, like every other man in the club. She then began to tell Ghetti how Skyy was going to help her become a model.

  “Would you ever pose for Playboy?” he asked.

  “Hell yeah! I see no harm in showing my ass sets.”

  “What are your assets?”

  “Not assets.” She giggled. “I’m speaking on my ass and my juicy set of tits, get it? Ass and sets.” She reached up cupping her two round breast.

  “I believe you had too much Cristal, Jazmine.”

  She tossed her head full of golden blond ringlets over her left shoulder. “I’m a big girl and I’ll be okay. Besides, you won’t let anything happen to me.” She reached under the table and playfully squeezed his knee.

&nb
sp; “Is this your first time in Miami?” he asked.

  “No, I came down here for spring break four years ago. I think I’ll stay down here because Skyy really thinks I can be a model. What do you think?”

  “I think she is on the right path.”

  “I like your honesty, Ghetti.”

  “That’s all I know how to do.” He shrugged.

  “I think you’re handsome as well.” Her hand remained on his knee.

  “Jazmine, Whut’s up wit’ you and Fly?”

  “We’re friends.” She began rubbing his knee. “Why do you ask?”

  Ghetti shrugged his shoulders as he quenched his thirst. He blamed her hand on his knee on the alcohol she had in her system. Either way, the shit was feeling good so he allowed her to get her feel on.

  “Skyy thinks I can make a lot of money doing porn.”

  “Porn, are you serious?” He looked at her hard.

  She nodded yes. “You love to have sex?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Think about it. What if you were in the porn business and got paid to have sex with beautiful women, would you like it?”

  Ghetti could easily picture himself fucking for bucks. Thoughts of sex slid easily into his mind as Jazmine’s hand slid up his legs. “It would be a dream to be in the porn business,” he said.

  “See what I mean. I feel the same way. I’ll get the best sex and get paid for it. Fucking and sucking nearly every day.” She slid closer to him, brushing her breast against his shoulder. Under the table, she tenderly rubbed his swollen dick. Ghetti inhaled deeply, trying to stay cool. He felt guilty, but hell, who was going to tell? He looked at her. She was grinning, biting her bottom lip. Back and forth she caressed him pressing her palm down.

  “Ghetti, I’ll be honest,” she said softly. “I want some of this dick.”

  “What about Fly?”

  “This will be our secret.” She squeezed his dick through his jeans.

  Ghetti finished his glass then rubbed his face. Being grimey was not his style. We trippin’ yo,” he said, removing her hand. “I think we both been abusin’ the alcohol.”

  “You think so?” She slid over a bit, feeling slightly dejected.

  “Yeah, but it’s still on the good side between us.”

  Jazmine managed a weak smile. She was about to leave the booth when Skyy returned.

  “I got some good news.” Skyy ignored Ghetti as she slid into the booth.

  “I just talked to Glenn, he’s the guy who owns Nymph Video, and he wants to see you!” Skyy squealed.

  “When!” Jazmine said excited.

  “Tonight. He has a yacht!” Skyy said. “It’s docked at Bayside and he’s having a private party, a special party,” she said.

  “What kind of party?” Jazmine asked.

  Skyy whispered what kind of party it was in Jazmine’s ear. Jazmine gasped.

  “Are you serious?” Jazmine said, placing a hand on her chest.

  “Yes. This is your chance, girl. If you are serious about—doing porn, then Glenn is the best in the business.”

  Ghetti broke in. “Look, before you two bounce, I need a lift.”

  “Why?” Skyy said, balling up her face. “Where’s Fly?”

  “He had to leave.” Jazmine jumped in because she felt the tension between Ghetti and Skyy.

  Skyy stood slowly, smoothing her dress out over her super sexy body. “Ghetti, Jazmine, I have a yacht to catch and I’ll be late if I take you home. Why don’t you come with us?”

  “How about I drop you two off and drive myself home.”

  “You are so not driving my car. If you don’t want to roll with us, then I suggest you call a cab,” Skyy said, fixing her hair in place.

  “You should come with us,” Jazmine said.

  Ghetti looked at Jazmine then up to Skyy. “I might as well. Ain’t got shit else to do.”

  “Good, let’s get missing,” Skyy said. “We’ll take the back door out.”

  Ghetti stood up, followed by Jazmine.

  “What kind of special party is this shit anyway?” Ghetti asked.

  Jazmine was about to tell him, but Skyy signaled for her to be quiet.

  “A party is a party, so chill,” Skyy replied. “Just act like you got some class.”

  Leaving the club, they piled into Skyy’s CL550 with Ghetti in the back. Along the way to Bayside, Skyy and Ghetti playfully beefed with each other back and forth until Jazmine screamed at them both.

  The private party was held on a tri-deck 164-foot Westport yacht. There were six women and four men on board with Ghetti being the only black. He was fascinated with the luxurious yacht from its glossy maple wood cabinetry to the small Jacuzzi on the fly bridge. He stood on the second deck in the back watching the lit Miami skyline as the yacht sped up to its smooth 25-knot cruising speed. They traveled for thirty minutes then came to a stop. To Ghetti’s surprise, they pulled up near a smaller yacht. Ghetti watched as the smaller yacht launched a small rubber raft with an outboard motor. Two trips were made which added more guests to the 164-foot Westport yacht. The count on board was now at twelve women and eleven men. Ten minutes later the Westport was back up to its cruising speed. Ghetti had no idea what the fuck was going on, so he went in search of Skyy and Jazmine. Reaching the top deck, he found two couples kissing. Both middle-aged women wore skimpy bikinis and had their hands down in their partner’s boxers. Ghetti made a u-turn and made his way below deck. When he spotted the companionway that led down to the spacious salon, he nearly tripped over his own feet when he walked into a mini orgy. Sitting on the cozy sofa were two men butt naked with two topless women sucking them off. The two women were in a contest to see which one could make their man cum first while the two men went against each other to last the longest. Over toward the bar, this one dude had a female laid on top of the glossy, burl wood counter top eating her out while another female was on her knees sucking the hell out of his dick. No sign of Skyy nor Jazmine. He slowly turned and left the orgy. He found Skyy and Jazmine in their stateroom sitting on the bed looking at the flat screen HDTV mounted on the wall. They both smiled at him giggling.

  “Yo!” he said, shutting the door behind him. “Whut kind of party goin’ on out there?” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb.

  “It’s a swinger party!” Jazmine said. “Look,” she pointed at the screen. “We can watch everything.” She giggled.

  Ghetti finally took notice of the screen. It was showing the two couples on the top deck. One man had his friend’s wife bent over the back of a lounge chair drilling her back out. Beside him, his wife of twenty years was sucking another man’s dick. Skyy held up a tiny remote and switched to another view. It showed two men in another stateroom running a train on a skinny female. She was on some outrageous shit by doing a D.P. (Double Penetration).

  “Damn, they gonna rip that thang open!” Skyy said.

  “Don’t look now, sounds like she wants them to stop,” Jazmine said.

  Ghetti found a spot on the bed to watch the action with them. Skyy switched to another scene. It was two men and two women in another stateroom. They were all over each other on the oval-shaped bed.

  “Eww, look at that guy’s hairy butt, Ghetti.” Skyy laughed.

  Ghetti waved her off as he watched how the four got their freak on.

  “Look Skyy! He’s about to fuck her in the ass!” Jazmine shouted.

  “Hey Skyy,” Ghetti said. “When you don’t shave, does your butt get hairy like dude?” He nodded at the screen.

  Skyy smacked her flossy lips. “I don’t shave. I get my body waxed, thank you.”

  “Is the A.C. working, gosh it’s hot,” Jazmine said, fanning herself.

  “Girl, I thought it was just me,” Skyy added before fanning herself with a cute devilish grin. Switching to the last scene, the screen became filled with a big titty female riding wildly on top of a man. They were on the floor inside another stateroom. They all watched the one-on-one sex scene.

>   “This is dull, go back to the orgy in the salon,” Jazmine said, crossing her legs. Her pussy was throbbing for some dick and she knew Skyy was feeling the same way. Skyy might be the Queen B of being conceited, but she still had her needs. On the screen, dicks were plunging in and out of pussy. Tongues licking pussy, lips sucking dicks and Skyy watched it without blinking, it seemed. Since she was something near A-list celebrity status, it was hard for her to find simple sex without any strings attached. The last time she tried to have a simple and safe one night stand she ended up being stalked for three months.

  Ghetti adjusted his jeans as his dick continued to throb. Beside him, Skyy with her sweet-smelling ass was whispering in Jazmine’s ear. Seconds later Jazmine stood up and left. Skyy kicked off her heels.

  “Where she goin’?” Ghetti asked.

  “To mind her business, I guess!” Skyy snapped. She was so horny that she was losing her cool.

  “You want me to leave?” Ghetti stood up.

  Skyy ran her fingers through her hair because she didn’t know what else to do. Sure she was an ex-stripper and a big time video model and a business lady—but she was still only nineteen years old.

  “No, I don’t want you to leave. Matter of fact, you can take your clothes off,” she said unable to look at him.

  “Why?” he said, playing her game.

  “Aren’t you hot in all them clothes?”

  “I might be,” he said, bending down to untie his Nike boots. When he stood back up, Skyy was sliding the spaghetti straps from her shoulders. She then stood up, allowing the dress to slide smoothly off her lovely body. She stepped from the bunched up material in nothing but her heels and peach thong. Ghetti pulled his top off along with the white tank top. Skyy bit her glossy lip when Ghetti slid his jeans down. His boxers did nothing to hide his strong erection.

  “Yeah, it’s cooler now,” he said, looking into her eyes then down to her perky small but sexy breast. Her body was amazing with flared out hips like the fenders on her new C-class.