“And why is that sir?” I inquired. “We haven’t even met, yet.” Dick laughed, clearing his throat. “I know we haven’t met, but something tells me that you’re special. You’re not like the other females I’ve encountered lately. You seem smart, nice and straight-forward and I like that,” he commented. “Are you in school, young lady?” he asked. “I hope so because you’re our future. We need you, Misty,” Dick affirmed, then added: “Please don’t give your virginity to just anybody because once it’s gone, you’ll never get it back, sweetheart.” Not wanting to prolong the dialogue any further than I needed to, I thanked him for his time. We ended the call with a have-a-nice-weekend. I hung up the phone, feeling good enough to sing a song of any kind, but I held back. I didn’t want to put all my chickens in one basket, so I returned to my room and completed my English assignment for the day, keeping my mind focused on graduating.
***
Still, I had to admit, I have come a long way from partaking in small writing job positions to becoming one of the highest-paid whores in Chicago. Since birth, my mother did some of everything: sold drugs and worked the graveyard shift at the cemetery. Mama stopped selling drugs because she received word that someone in the vicinity was a stool pigeon. Neither Mama nor her associate was certain of whom the informer was but she had a small hunch that it was Mr. Caine, a retired elementary school teacher that called the police and told them about the drug activities that were occurring in the neighborhood because he was the main person that would look out his window and tell everyone (which weren’t many people that resided in our area, by the way) what was going on at the moment; which sadly enough, led the police to our front door. Fortunately, Mama was smart enough to give the rest of the dope to Manny, one of her closest and most trustworthy associates to stash the dope someplace far away where neither the cops nor their dogs can smell them. “Anything you want, I’ll do it for you,” he said, leaving the premises. Once the cops arrived and began searching our place, they saw that there weren’t any evidence of Claudia selling any narcotics. Angry, one cop said, huffing: “That goddamn Caine sure knows how to waste a person’s fucking time. Damn! I could’ve stayed at home and watch the game instead of being here,” he said, telling back-up to saddle up and go home, and then diverted his attention towards Mama and me. “I’m sorry, ma’am. We checked everywhere and didn’t see a thing. You ladies have a pleasant day. We’ll take care of Mr. Caine later,” he affirmed and left, feeling duped and disappointed. If he could wring that old man’s neck out, he would do it without thinking twice about it.
Mama exhaled noisily a sigh of relief. “Whew. That was close,” she said, plopping down on the couch; fanning herself with a catalogue. “Glad I got rid of those bags before the cops arrived.”
Me too, I contemplated, shaking my head and going towards my room. I had a long day and I deserved some peace and quiet just long enough to rejuvenate my body, mind and esprit- for now. The next day, I paid Mr. Dick a visit at the Corner Bakery café. He smiled and motioned me over to his table. He was reading the morning papers and drinking a cup of coffee. “How’s it going, kiddo?” he asked, still reading his papers. Dick pointed at a chair next to him. “Sit down. Let’s talk,” he commanded. I sat down, rolling my eyes. I had better things to do waste time. “I’m doing okay,” I said, sighing. “How are you doing?”
His mood turned from pleasant to sour within minutes. “Cut the bullshit, Misty. I know why you’re here,” he mentioned, nodding. “You’re here for some money, correct?”
I nodded, swallowing hard. “Yes. You told me to come here, remember?” I said, trying my best not to piss him off. It was obvious that he did not remember the phone call we had a few days ago, so I reminded him of what we talked about and so on. “So I’m here,” I said, nervously; gently tapping my fingers on my thigh.
He sipped his cup of coffee and glanced at me for the first time. “Hmmm… You look nice,” he commented. Before I had a chance to respond, he pulled out five-hundred dollars and told me to keep it as a gift. He added, still flipping through his papers and sipping on his cup of coffee: “Remember what we talked about. Keep your freaking mouth closed and do not call me for money ever again. Do I make myself clear?” he said, sternly. He wanted to make sure that whatever we discussed is not to become disclosed to the world. “Yes and thank you, sir,” I said, rising to leave. Dick did not respond, just shooed me away with his free hand and returned to reading his papers. Though what he did was really nice and courteous, I needed more than five-hundred bucks to keep me afloat and I knew exactly the person to call to help me get the cash I needed.
***
I told Minnie that I tried offering Dick some fresh, virgin pussy but he declined my bid because he claimed that he doesn’t do virgins, especially underage females. I needed more money to stay afloat and I knew Goldie would be able to help me find someone who’s desperate enough to fuck a virgin despite my age. She snickered: “Don’t worry about it, because I know someone who’s interested in virgin pussy. His name is G. I’ll call him right now and see if he’s interested in fresh meat.” And she did exactly that. I’d received a call from G. two days later, asking me if I’d like to meet him at his old place. “Sure. Tell me when and where and I’ll be there, okay?” I said, sounding excited and nervous at the same time. Goldie had given me the scoop on this G. guy before he called. “Good. See you later, shorty.” I lay back on my bed, wondering if I was making the biggest mistake of my life, giving my virginity to some guy I barely knew.
All I heard was a dial tone, an indication that the call ended. Calmly, I placed the phone on my wooden desk and put it on silent for the day, so I wouldn’t be disturbed. Once school ended, I met up with G. for a private session at his trap house. It was an old, abandoned building that was creepy looking on the outside but nice and clean on the inside as if it hadn’t been abandoned that much except the walls were bare and a few ceiling lightbulbs were missing. At last, he appeared at the doorway; standing still. He did not move an inch until I told him who I was and who sent me to him. That’s when a lightbulb flashed in his head, suddenly remembering I was the girl he’d spoken with via phone. “Hello, cutie. Your name is Misty, right?” he said, grinning from ear-to-ear. He had the cutest smile I ever seen in my life. Standing at 6’3 inches tall, he resembled Joakim Noah from the Chicago Bulls basketball team a little bit except he was a shade darker with a short fade and light- green eyes to match the rest of his attributes. I nodded yes. He approached me with a bear hug and kissed me on the lips. Excitedly, he slapped me on the ass and told me to go inside. I did what I was told. Looking around his place, I commented on his taste of decorum. He thanked me for complimenting on his private spot and we sat down and talked.
I asked him what G. stood for and he told me that it was short for Giovanni. He said that he disliked the name so people called him G. He did not say too much about his life, which was explicable, because he didn’t want to discuss too much about his existence after seeing me for the first time. “Listen, I have some soda, juice, water and beer if you want some,” he said, going towards the refrigerator. I declined his offer and thanked him for offering me some refreshments. He grabbed a cold, bottle of beer and gulped it down like it was a bottle of water or something. Amazed, I shook my head and giggled. “What’s so funny?” he asked, smiling. I felt like a school girl, sneaking off to meet up with my first crush. “I’m sorry. I just have the case of giggles, that’s all,” I said, covering my face with my sweater sleeve.
It was fifty degrees in mid-October. In Chicago, when the weather is in the mid-fifties or below; it simply means pneumonia weather, meaning dress warm if you don’t want to catch a cold or die from pneumonia. He sat next to me and wrapped his gorgeous biceps around me. My panties melted like ice when he wrapped his arms around me as my clitoris thumped from his touch. I might have been young but I was ready. I was ready to give myself to this sweet soul whom I met through a mutual friend. Few minutes later, Giovanni moved hi
s arms from my waist and said: “Are you ready to take a chance tonight?” I breathed heavily and traced his scar on the right side of his face with my index finger, admiring his ghetto scar. “I’m ready. Are you prepared to love me tonight?” I inquired, taking off my clothes; one-by-one. Giovanni moved closer to me and kissed my left shoulder; slowly caressing my arms, neck, back and ass. Wearing nothing but my lingerie, he removed my lace brassiere and black, satin panties and tossed them to the side. Afterwards, he carried me to this bedroom and laid me down on his king-sized bed. His bedroom did not contain a lot of stuff except an Ipod and a government cell phone, but that was it.
G. was a man of mystery and that was fine with me. Looking into my eyes, he smiled. “I won’t hurt you. I know you’re a virgin and I know your age. I’m seventeen but I’m sexually experienced.”
“How experienced are you?” I asked, curious to know how many partners he has had in the past and if he’s any good in bed. Any man can say that he’s sexually experienced, but it doesn’t always mean that he’s any good when it comes to sex. Or so I was advised. “How many girls have you fucked in this room?” G. shushed me with his index finger, smiling. “Don’t worry about that. I’m not with them, I’m with you. And that’s all that matters right now. Am I correct?” he affirmed, kissing my neck. His breath was sweet as candy and his touch was as cool as summer breeze. The scent of his cologne did not make things any better, either. I nodded, rolling my eyes. I knew he was full of crap and that I shouldn’t try to give my pearl up so easily but what other choice did I have at the moment? “Okay. I’m sorry. Let’s not fight.”
G. giggled, stroking my hair. “We’re not fighting, just simply getting to know one another.” He stood up, took off his clothes, pulled out a golden-wrapped condom and placed it on his ten-inch dick. Oh shit! His dick is huge, I thought, unsure if I’d be able to handle something as big as a ten-inch penis. It looked as if it was capable of ripping a lady’s insides out, for Christ’s sakes. At first, I was scared to have sex with G. but he convinced me that it’d be alright and that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. “Misty, relax your mind and body. I got you, Ma. I won’t hurt you. I swear, I’ll take my time with you,” he said, assuring me that I’m in good hands with him. “Just let me please you for the night, okay?”
I nodded yes and allowed him to do whatever he desired. Giovanni was the best lover I ever had. He did not leave one spot untouched or unloved. He licked and stroked my anatomy from my head to my toes. Giovanni’s skills were so damn good; they were fucking unreal. After our one-day rendezvous, he whispered in my ear and asked if I wanted some breakfast in bed. I couldn’t believe I’d heard. Wait a minute. Did he say breakfast in bed? I didn’t know hustlers knew anything about cooking.
“Okay,” he said, kissing my ear. “You’re missing out on some good-ass breakfast.” A second later, he returned to the bed and laid some money down. Slowly, I opened my eyes and saw six-hundred dollars sprawled out on the bed. I counted the money, placed it in my purse and got dressed. I didn’t bother to take a shower because the shower nozzle was half-broken and the tub looked like it needed to be scrubbed. Goodness. Where does Giovanni go to take hot showers? I pondered, rubbing my eyes. “Giovanni, I have to go now. Thank you for a wonderful time last night. I really appreciate it,” I declared, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. He kissed my cheek and then cupped my face. “Will I see you again, Misty?” he inquired, tonguing me down. We broke away from each other; giving each other room to breathe. I shrugged my shoulders, unsure of what to say. “I’m not sure. You might.”
I know I was playing hard to get, but why not? It wasn’t as if we agreed to turn a one-night stand into a platonic friendship, let alone a long-term union. He shrugged his shoulders, moved towards the front door and coolly opened it for me. “Okay. You know where to find me if you need anything.” I smiled and left the premises, feeling woozy and happy consequently. I made seven-hundred dollars in one night. I couldn’t wait to tell Goldie the good news. I didn’t have to attend school until the next day, so I did what I always wanted to do but never had a chance to do so: I went clothing shopping, returned home and paid Mama’s bills.
“Misty,where did you get this kind of money?!” she asked, her mouth agape. “Did you find another job?” I told her that I won some kind of lottery prize last night while hanging out with Goldie and that I wanted to surprise her. I knew it was a fib, but who cares? She needed the money to pay her bills before the deadline, so it didn’t mattered who I received the money from or where I received it, now did it? She blew out hot air. “Well, that’s nice, honey. Make sure to save the rest for rainy days,” she suggested, smiling. She hugged me, went to the living room and watched television. “Thank you for the clothes and paying my bills. I needed that.” I didn’t respond, just went in my room and stashed the rest of the cash in my secret spot. Pacing back-and-forth, I realized that if I could get away with selling my body for money, so beat it, because I was determined to grab what was mine.
***
Two years later, I’ve made about four-grand within a year. I spent the rest of the rest on Mama’s bills and school fees. I graduated from high school with a 3.76 grade point average and attended a four-year college with a major in Mass Communications and a minor in English. I received nine-thousand dollars worth of scholarships, but I needed more than nine-grand to stay in school. Mama caught on to my hustle quicker than I expected. At first, she wasn’t fond of my new profession, practically begging me to stop prostituting. How could I stop selling my ass for money? The cash was too damn good to cease selling my body. Plus, Mama’s bills were paid for because I made that shit happen. Finally, Mama stopped intervening in my personal affairs and just gave me condoms and KY-jelly instead. “If you’re going to fuck your brains out, at least have enough sense to protect yourself. All diseases are not curable, you know? So strap up,” she said, slamming the door behind her and mumbling obscenities. Which word was it? Tramp? Bitch? Whore? I didn’t care. I was the one paying all the bills so why the heck was she complaining now?
***
It took me an hour and thirty-five minutes to arrive to the Suburbs via bus. I saw my trick, Carey Ian Chong, CEO of the Moneymakers Enterprise Magazine; waiting for my arrival. He glanced at his watch, wondering what the hell is taking me so long to arrive to his house. I paused on the opposite side of the street and dialed his number. “Carey, come and get me, you jerk! I did my part. Now do yours,” I said, angrily. It was about forty-degree below and I was freezing cold! The sweater I wore did not block the frigidness from entering my body, of course. There was no way I was going to move another inch from where I stood. If Carey wanted some pussy, he would have to come and pick me up from the bus stop. After cursing him out and threatened to leave him alone for good, Carey finally gave in. Did he actually believe that I’d walk a mile or two on one of the coldest days in November? Fuck no.
I’m a Taurus and my life motto is: I pay the cost to be the boss. Either you respect us- or kick rocks.
“Get in the car, you spoiled brat,” he mumbled, disposing his cigarette out the window. He turned to me and said: “My wife will be here soon. We have until tomorrow to get this done and over with. So show me a good time- or you won’t receive a penny, do you hear me?” I nodded yes, ignoring his stupid rants. I wasn’t up for the bullshit so I waved him off as if he was some kind of bug, annoying the shit out of me.
He slapped my hand. “Don’t do that, Misty. That’s rude, you know?”
“Whatever,” I said, not looking in his direction. “Let’s do this.”
He did not respond, just turned the corner to his house. At last, we arrived. I got out of the car and went inside his house, pissed off. Carey was behind me. He closed the door behind him and asked if I wanted something to drink before we have sex. “No. Where’s your bathroom? I need to take a shower,” I told him, smelling my underarms. I scrunched my face as if something foul was in the air or something. Truthfully, I hadn�
��t had a chance to take a hot bath since yesterday after coming from Mr. Avery Lin’s house in Chinatown. He said his wife was out of town and needed some sexual healing since his wife couldn’t sexually please him like she used to. He mentioned that before his wife’s vaginal surgery, she and Mr. Lin used to fuck like jackrabbits on a daily basis; anytime, anywhere. Nowadays, they barely kiss each other in the morning, let alone make love like most couples do. So, he called me to take care of him and I completed the mission as promised. He paid me five- grand and thanked me for showing a good time that night.
“Don’t mention it,” I said, wiping sweat off my face, neck and breasts with a wash cloth that he’d given me to use. “It was my pleasure.” Hey, Mr. Lin might have been a thirty-nine year-old retired book publishing owner and literary agent with a nice physical build and oral skills that would put a porno star to shame but he had a nice-size bank account and could fuck better than younger guys I’ve screwed besides Giovanni. Avery wasn’t hard to get along with, either. He was very polite and wise. He liked fast cash and pretty women. He was twenty-one years older than me. I’d just turned eighteen in early May. Technically, I was legal. Not to mention, he liked to screw like there’s no tomorrow. “Jesus,” I said one evening, panting heavily after having sex with Mr. Lin for eight hours. “Isn’t there anything else that interests you besides screwing?”
EROTICA: NAUGHTY NYMPHS - 20 STEAMY STORIES OF BRATS FILLED & STUFFED (Adults Only Graphic Erotic Short Stories, XXX Mega Bundle MMF Explicit Erotica Collection) Page 9