by Love Belvin
Honestly, I had no fucking clue what my plan would be. I didn’t want to get comfortable here in Connecticut. These fuckers ain’t really want me anyway. My plan was to see how they responded when I killed it this season. I’d show all them who the fuck I was.
I nodded my answer to B-Rocka while clutching the thigh rocking against my own. “You like that?” I asked my mans about the chick giving him a dance.
B-Rocka pumped his fist in the air, watching the show in front of him. “What about The Flash? I thought he’d be here tonight. This his favorite spot. Right?”
I nodded. “Jordan’s cool peoples,” I answered honestly over the music. “He ‘on’t come here like he used to, I hear.”
“Why?”
“That nigga got the clanks. You know he engaged and shit.”
“Oh, word!”
“Yeah. I ‘on’t know how a nigga can turn away art like this!” I chuckled. My eyes moved up to Chestnut Cherries on the mini stage in the room. Damn. She was a banger! “I ain’t never getting caught up in no chick like that. Even if I did find somebody I wanted more than ass from, I wouldn’t let them change shit about me. If I wanna come to the strip club to see ass jiggling and titties bouncing in my face, shit, I’mma do it!”
B-Rocka busted out laughing. “What if she said she wanna come, too?”
“Shiiiiit!” I felt my face tightening. “Hell no! She wanna see tits and ass she could go by her-damn-self. Matter of fact, get a sucka that’ll be a’ight with that shit.”
He couldn’t stop laughing, which made me crack up, too. I was dead ass serious though.
“I heard Johnson brings his girl here,” B-Rocka tried to challenge me as I sipped champagne.
“I ‘on’t know about all that. Don’t really believe it. I been here almost every day since being in Connecticut and ain’t seen him here once. Can’t lie, I was disappointed. After the draft, I told Divine something similar to what you said. The good thing ‘bout getting picked by the Kings was Arch & Point ‘cause I could chill with Jordan ‘The Flash’ Johnson.”
While that was the truth, it wasn’t the whole thing. I’d still been fucked up about draft night. It was something I’d been keeping quiet on because I knew Divine, also known as Azmir Jacobs, my father’s former General, pulled some strings to get me on the NFL track.
After seconds of consideration, my thoughts went back to the subject. “Plus, that nigga work with ol’ girl. Why the fuck would any dude bring his broad to the strip club? This’a chance to get a break from them cuffs. Na’ mean?”
B-Rocka kept with his laughing as my eyes roved up to see Chestnut Cherries was strutting my way, thighs wiggling and tits bouncing all the way to my spread knees. She locked eyes with shawtie on my lap then tossed her chin, telling her to scram. My dick twitched in my sweats. We both watched ol’ girl twirl on the pole Chestnut Cherries had just left.
“It’s almost closing.” Her voice was husky, eyes heavy on me. “Whatchu wanna do?”
Yup.
My strongman swelled against my thigh.
Game!
I made a show of caressing her dope ass frame from shoulder to toes in her strappy sandals with mild high heels with my eyes. I sized her up, finally deciding on how I’d fuck her tonight. Chestnut Cherries had to be five feet, five inches, a hundred and forty pounds, and at least a thirty-four G bra size. Nah. A thirty-two. I knew how to size a woman. I was taught by the O.G.s.
But I was easy on it, slow with my response and meeting her hungry eyes. I even raised my phone in the air to check the time. She was right. It was close to four in the morning.
I shrugged. “I’m going back to the crib.” My index finger led my arm as I pointed to shawtie on the pole. “She coming.” My attention went to the right of me where two jawns were feeling B-Rocka up. Bitches could be like hounds. They sensed money, even if they were off target a little. “And they coming, too. The fuck you doin’?”
It was finally here. Chestnut Cherries with the smooth glistening mocha skin, a fat ass, and perky tits that could dance a cappella was ready for the kid. Arch & Point had the strictest “no fucking the dancers” policy I’d ever come across—and I’d been to the best strip clubs from Jersey to Miami. From the first night I saw her, I asked the girls and one of the bouncers about her. Some laughed, some shook their head in answer; all doubted. It was all good, though. A week and a half wasn’t enough to acclimate them to Rut’s World. And in my world, if I wanted it, I got it. In this case, I’d fuck it. And I wanted Chestnut Cherries.
I never asked her, though. Nah. I hadn’t verbalized shit, but I damn sure expressed it through my eyes. And bills. Bitches could always be bought. As sure as my name was Rut, I knew all women had ulterior motives. And this one was no different from the majority of the chicks I’d encountered over my years. She wanted money.
“Who rolling with you?” she asked, chest rising and falling at a new speed.
My eyes rolled over her shoulder. “I told you. Her.” I pointed with my forehead. “Maybe one of them.” One of the bitches dancing on B-Rocka caught that and smiled too hard. Then my attention went back to the great dame before me. My prize. “And you.”
She didn’t speak right away, obviously weighing my command, though we both knew it was a request. I sat patiently as she considered it. The girls stood from B-Rocka, informing they’d meet us in the mall’s parking lot down the street—aka sneaking out there because of Arch & Point’s policy. The shawtie dancing on me earlier tossed me eyes, communicating the same. I didn’t respond. She knew what time it was.
Then it was left to my grand prize in front of me, deciding her fate. I’d make it good to her, too. When chicks made me wait this long, I was sure to take my time and show them why they shouldn’t have.
Just when I was about to say “never mind,” Chestnut Cherries popped back on her hips and rolled her eyes. “A’ight. I’ll meet you with Vanilla Chai.”
Her words delivered with attitude were husky. And I was excited out my ass.
“Search?” one of the dancers from B-Rocka’s lap back at the club barked in the dark of the big ass, empty parking lot.
My security, Fats, was patting her down while the one before her hoped in the Benz sprinter.
He stood on a huff, patience running short at this hour. “Look, you wanna come or what?”
The other girl who danced for me bounced on her toes and hugged herself, cold as hell in the spring air. Chestnut Cherries stood behind, pouting herself as she rolled her eyes.
Ol’ girl holding up the line glanced around, suddenly self-conscious about her hesitation. I was used to this. Fats was used to this. As I sat behind the wheel in my Ferrari California, I could see B-Rocka shifting in his seat from the corners of my eyes, his attention tight on what was going on out there. He wasn’t used to this in Connecticut. We did the screening process a little different in Jersey.
“I’m just saying,” ol’ girl argued. “I already gave you my phone!”
“And I gotta make sure you ain’t got another,” Fats countered. “Ain’t nobody trying to fuck you or get free feels, ma.”
She rolled her eyes and lifted her arms. Fats finished the pat down and jerked his thumb over his shoulder, directing her into the sprinter. The other walked up and raised her hands automatically. This one was more patient with Fats. Likely because she thought I was the carrot at the end of the stick. When Chestnut Cherries strutted up to him with a tight face and pressed lips and raised her arms without being asked, I smashed down on the accelerator, making the engine roar before taking off with a tire-scream on the pavement.
“Oh, my fuggin’ gawd…I’m cumiiiiiiin’!” she screamed as I pounded in her ass from the back, smacking into it so hard her fat rippled each time I hit. “Oh! Oh! Oh!”
“A’ight, sweetheart!” I yelled to the other chick between her legs, and mine a little.
Ol’ girl scooted away then slammed herself against the headboard out of breath. Now I could go gorilla on
Chestnut Cherries’ ass. With each scream, my ego flared wider than the space between my ears. I bet she wish she would have fucked with me two weeks ago. That was what ran through my mind as Chestnut Cherries’ shoulders quaked while her little waist, on down, jerked. Then I busted myself, my orgasm not as spectacular as this last one for her. It was all good; it was my third and her second.
I reared on the back of my heels, wiped the sweat from my forehead then peeled off the rubber. After twisting it in a knot, I stood from the bed.
“Shit!” Chestnut Cherries breathed, not hiding her impressed smile. She rubbed the underside of her tits. “I ain’t never do no shit like that.” Her breathing was getting away from her but that “nut” glow was bright as hell.
“Do what?” the other broad, I now knew name was Brandee, asked as she snuggled onto a pillow, laying on her side facing Chestnut Cherries.
My brow raised in the air in question, too, as I observed them getting comfy. That wasn’t going down. I knew then I had to figure out a way to get these bitches out of my crib. I was tired as fuck. They had to go.
“Girl on girl with a dude.” Chestnut Cherries couldn’t fight that damn smirk.
She closed her eyes, contented as hell, and humming as she licked her lips.
Oh, hell no…
I grabbed my boxers, slid them on while the rubber was still clutched in my hand. Next, I went to the roll of paper towels in the corner of the bare room, dressed with just a mattress on top of a box spring and mirrors on either side. While they exchanged words of sexual satisfaction and exhaustion, I wrapped the used rubber inside a paper towel. I banged on the door just as I did when I held the last used condom. Seconds later, Fats opened the door and pushed his fat ass head in.
I handed him the balled paper towel. He knew what time it was, but I could sense something in his eyes. To confirm it, he hit me with the slight straining of them that communicated the question of if I was done. I tossed him my chin in confirmation.
“Yo,” he spoke loudly, voice deeper than usual because of the early hour. Fats hadn’t been to sleep yet. “It’s after seven. You got a nine o’clock meeting.”
Shit! For a minute there, I’d forgotten all about it. Just when I thought I’d sleep late before hitting the gym, I was reminded of the serious meeting I had this morning.
I turned to my company. Chestnut Cherries had already begun to nod off, but Brandee kept her tight eyes on me, similar to the way she had when I finished her off first so I could start working on her coworker.
It wasn’t my plan to start with her. After they popped whatever pills they needed to get them straight when we arrived, my idea was to go my first round with Chestnut Cherries. I had more to prove to her. But when Brandee literally dived for my dick before I could step out of my boxers, I went with the flow. She came at least three times this morning. It was because she was one of those hyper-nutters. Very few women, in my experience, were one of those. That’s because not all women could achieve orgasms, and I didn’t always have the time to help them. But not Brandee. She came on my dick and my hands.
By the time I made it to Chestnut Cherries, she was beyond wet and primed for me. The problem I soon learned was she didn’t come easily. I hit her with the trifecta as she lay on her back spread to me earlier, using just my hands. She came. But when I finally put my dick in her, she wasn’t revving like I wanted. That’s when I thought to invite Brandee in. She looked like the type who liked girls. I was spot on with my suspicion and had Brandee go underneath Chestnut Cherries to lick her pussy and rub on her fat ass mahogany nipples while I fucked her ass. It worked.
She was out like a light on the bed, but it was now time for them to go. I didn’t do sleepovers.
Brandee began to spit out something irritating her mouth. “What the fuck?” Her face was balled as she plucked from her tongue. “This your weave shedding like this, Chestnut?”
My cheeks spread as my neck swiveled around to Fats.
He shook his head and snorted. “Y’all need a ride back to your cars at the mall? Let’s go.”
“Huhn? Already?” Brandee complained. “I need a nap.”
Fats swung the door open even more, revealing one of the two chicks B-Rocka brought back with him. She was dressed and wearing a jacket while clutching her bag.
“She been waiting on y’all a long ass time. Need to relieve her baby sitter. C’mon!” he barked.
Brandee gasped. And with a disarming smile, I walked over to the foot of the bed and wiggled Chestnut Cherries’ baby toe.
“Time to get up, sweetheart.” I kept my voice soothing. “Ya ride’s ready.”
She stirred a bit, glancing around with red eyes that quickly. Her regard hit Brandee, huffing while stabbing her foot into her panties.
“What?” Chestnut Cherries groaned, not looking at all like the self-assured bronzed baddie she did at Arch & Point. Her expression softened into a grin. “You think I can get a couple of hours? Damn! That shit you put on a bitch,” she purred, stretching like a cat. “I was peeping what you was giving her and getting mad as fuck.” She giggled, eyes closed while she lay back down.
Chestnut Cherries wasn’t getting it. She had to get the fuck on.
“Why?” I asked, smile and forehead wrinkled with confusion.
She turned over onto her other side, facing Brandee who snatched down the dress over her head and rolled it down the ‘S’ of her curves, getting with the program like a good girl.
“I ain’t never bust like that in my life!” She broke out laughing like she thought Brandee would join her. “I mean, on the low, I don’t bust like that no way.”
I cocked my head to the side and stroked my dick through my briefs. “Nah?”
“Nope! I may have two times in my whole life,” Chestnut Cherries admitted.
That’s when Brandee paused in shock. I wasn’t. I knew how to fuck. If I told you you’d have a good time, the only time you wouldn’t was if I was being a complete asshole, not giving a fuck. No pun intended.
“Bitch, you serious?” Brandee asked.
Still laying like she had all damn day, Chestnut Cherries nodded as she broke out laughing again. “On god!”
“Well, let’s go.” Brandee threw Chestnut Cherries her panties and dress. I guessed strippers didn’t wear bras. I knew with a good boob job a woman didn’t need one. Both these broads had implants, but I was cool with it. “Because he’s kicking us the fuck out.”
Chestnut Cherries’ eyes shot over to me. I deepened my smile. Yes, I was being rude. I was impatient and anxious each time I had to tell a chick to leave after fucking. These two were no different. But I always rocked a smile and spoke in a gentle manner. Shit. They had feelings, too.
“It was fun, Chestnut Cherries…” I drawled playfully.
That softened the muscles around her eyes.
“That’s it? I wanna go another round. I could cook us up a nice breakfast,” she offered.
My head rolled to the other side and brows met. I sucked in my lips to appear the offer was enticing. Then my face warmed into the smile again and I went for her foot, wiggling it.
“You acting like this goodbye. You know I’ll be back at the club. We gone do this again.”
She struggled with her smile of understanding, but it eventually came. Brandee passed me from behind, going for the door.
“We gone be compensated?” she asked.
And here’s the bullshit…
My smile was still high on my face and bright, even at this crazy hour. I asked, “Compensated?” My eyebrows lifted.
“Yeah!” she spat. “We did all that and—”
“And who you think should be getting paid for that work?”
“You had two of us!” Brandee thought she was reminding me.
“Uhn, uhn!” Chestnut Cherries shook her head. “It ain’t that kinda party, Brandee.” She was dismissing the stupid ass notion.
But her colleague was still gunning for something.
I st
epped closer and dipped my voice a few notches for her comfort. “Brandee, wasn’t it you who asked if you could come with me after work last night? Matter fact, you been asking me since last week.”
“That ain’t the point!” she snapped. “I feel we should get something for this.”
I readjusted my stance, rolled my neck, and refreshed my friendly expression. “Thank you, Brandee. Your head game might be in my top ten.” I turned for Chestnut Cherries. “Thanks, Chestnut Cherries. Your pussy gotta be in my top three.” Top fifty, but I was trying to make a point here. Then I turned back to Brandee, whose eyes blew the hell up. “Sweetheart, I don’t do prostitution.”
And I’d never guess any of the dancers at Arch & Point did either. They made more money than most in the game.
“I ain’t no fuckin’ prostitute, Rut! I’m just sayin—”
“You just saying what?” My harsh delivery of that was notification of my patience running low for this shit.
Brandee backed up, eyes blinking rapidly. “I’m just saying I ain’t got no gas money to get home,” her voice was small—mousey even, but that whorish persona was still strong.
I pushed my smile out again then tossed my chin to Fats. “Give her something for gas, seeing she would have needed it whether she rolled with me or not.”
Brandee seemed too shocked to speak, as Fats pulled out a roll of cash and peeled off a Benjamin. Brandee took the bill and clomped to the door, ego deflated as it fucking should have. Chestnut Cherries, on the other hand, rounded me, being sure her tits were on my bare abs as she beamed. There was definitely a glow about her I’d never seen. Good dick would do that to you.
“Am I gonna see you tonight?” She was referring to the club.
I scratched the back of my head, thinking about this meeting I had to catch and the long day after that.
“Nah. Not tonight, baby.” I pinched her chin lightly, careful not to get close enough to make her think I was going to put my mouth on hers. “But we gone get you right again.”
The smile that spread on her face made me feel something I was too familiar with: emptiness. If I had a penny for each time a shawtie looked at me with hopes in her eyes I wouldn’t need as many hustles I had. Hopes I didn’t share and hopes I’d soon shatter. But it was all good. It was in these moments I, at least, felt human because I knew what was going down.