Sweeter Than Honey

by Mary B. Morrison

  If I was supposedly, as they claimed, invaluable, then why was everything a secret? Valentino, a modern day Charlie from that throwback TV show Charlie’s Angels, was a mystery man to all of his girls. Lace said I was her personal pick—girl number twelve. I was the last of her girls hired along with Onyx and Starlet, so she supposedly had some special affinity for me, for us. Like being in a gang, rumor had it, once hired, none of Valentino’s girls could quit. Not alive. Maybe Lace was setting me up to get arrested or something. Naw, she wouldn’t do that to me.

  Glancing around the five-hundred-square-foot dressing room at my counterparts preparing for their fuck festival, I wondered, what made us do this? Top models who never quite made it to the top. Maybe it was the amazing layout of the space. A huge room bursting with the latest designer everything, perfect for an aspiring model’s go-see: Tiffany’s jewelry, clothes, shoes, Juicy Couture purses, underwear, wigs…everything a woman needed to wear in order to make a man look good right before stroking his ego, then sucking his dick. What hurt most was, we weren’t permitted to keep any of this stuff. Especially not the semen-stained underwear that could be used as evidence against Valentino and Lace.

  “You okay?” Starlet asked, sitting in her makeup chair next to mine.

  Turning on my CD player, I said, “I can’t do this anymore, Star.” With trembling hands clinging to each armrest, I continued. “I’m tired of sleeping with strange men every night, letting them have their way with me. This is destroying my body and my self-esteem. Yours too. You know you don’t like having these chauvinistic wealthy pigs waddle all in your pussy, especially the old farts, fucking us with everything except their dick. I want out. We started together. Let’s quit together. Come with me, Star. And let’s take O with us too.”

  Gasping, Starlet inhaled, then whispered, “Are you crazy? Is that a cell phone? You’re gonna get all of us strip-searched if Valentino finds out. And Valentino’s arranged strip searches are worse than getting fucked by a trick with a twelve-inch dick.”

  My eyes followed Starlet’s stunning amber and gray ones around the room until Starlet looked toward the floor, then continued, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say no dumb stuff like quitting, Sunny.” Gently, Starlet held my hands. “Listen, all we have to do is get these guys off for a few hours and we’re done. I’ll help you get through the night. I’ll even do your tricks for you if you want me to. Just finish getting ready, okay?”

  “Yeah, tonight, but what about tomorrow night, and the next night?” I countered.

  “So what? You’re the top girl and you make two grand flippin’ tricks. Two grand a night cash and that’s more money than any of us and more than you made flippin’ burgers at In-and-Out, so what you complaining about?”

  “I feel dirty, Star. Like I can’t wash ’em off me. At least I could wash off the smell of beef patties and french fries. But the semen in my mouth”—I swallowed, digging my fingernails under my chin—“the sperm trickling down my throat”—I shrieked, clawing my nails down to my collarbone, peeling away layers of radiant flesh. “When they cum inside me, I can’t get it, get them…” Fighting back tears, I blinked repeatedly, then sniffed, “Y’all go ahead without me.”

  Fluttering away her tears, Starlet squeezed my hands. “Stop it, Sunny. You’re hurting yourself and me too.” Starlet’s bronzy-colored lips pressed against my forehead, then lingered for a moment. “I can’t watch you do this to yourself. I gotta finish getting ready, but whatever you do, don’t do anything stupid like break any more of Valentino’s rules. You’re in charge tonight. Do like Lace. Just chill right here until we get back.”

  “Fuck Valentino!” I shouted. “I hate his fuckin’ ass!”

  A wave of silence penetrated the entire room as eleven shoo-shooing females hushed in unison.

  Starlet commented, “Where’s Lace when we need her?”

  Yeah, where was Lace?

  I whispered, “I’m tired of men and all their fucking one-sided rules! What about me? Don’t I have an opinion?! Don’t I have some say in whose dick penetrates my pussy? I hope Valentino’s balls fall off and roll across the floor like meatballs so I can crush ’em! Dirty bastard!”

  One at a time the escorts resumed their conversations as I overheard girl six say, “Last hired. First fired. Sunny can’t handle the pressure. At the rate she’s going, she’ll be dead before midnight. She’s overpaid anyway. Listen to me, y’all use her as an example of what not to do.”

  Girl six had justification for her jealousy when Lace had announced, “Sunny is the new wifee. If there’s a problem on the set, what Sunny says goes.”

  Was this girl six’s way of showing animosity toward me? I wasn’t the one who kicked her ass, yet she respected Lace while disrespecting me. I should find another pimple on girl six’s ass and send her home for the hell of it.

  Women hated on me worse than men. Women like girl six, who knew nothing about me, detested me simply because I was adorable, with light skin and blond hair. I knew I was a black woman and proud of it, but they thought that I felt I was white, I guess because I wasn’t black enough to them. Girl six was remarkably picturesque, but like other women, she masked her low self-esteem by criticizing females.

  A woman’s self-induced inferiority complex could have me butt naked down on my knees sucking her man’s dick the second I entered the room. Women considered me a serious threat to their relationship like I wanted their men when it was their men who wanted me, paid to fuck me, and sexed me to the best of their agility because I represented every man’s fantasy fuck. Not to say he didn’t want his woman, but when he showed up at IP, he preferred me.

  Onyx hurried over and pleaded, “Sunny, hush, girl. Stop talking crazy and get dressed so we can get the hell up outta here. In a couple of hours Star and I can go to your new spot and talk about this privately, but this is not the time or place to go dumb.” Onyx pivoted my chair, shifted her eyes toward the mirror, stared into mine, then said, “You know he’s watching us. Oh my God, what happened to your neck?”

  Ignoring Onyx, I said quietly, “I can’t go.” Jabbing my middle finger in the air toward the camera, I mouthed, “Screw you, Mr. Big Shot.” I had to confront Valentino. Where in the hell did he get off living the lifestyle of the rich and infamous at our expense?

  Onyx gasped as Starlet’s eyes almost popped out of the sockets.

  Calmly, lowering my hand to my lap, I promised, “I won’t do anything else I shouldn’t do. But if something happens to me”—my eyes filled with salty tears that flowed into my wounds—“swear to me you won’t tell my parents the truth about what we do. I need y’all to cover for me tonight too. Star, you tell the limo driver I’m in charge tonight, and, O, you back her up confirming Lace will bring me over when she arrives.”

  Onyx’s lips tightened. “If Valentino finds out about this, he’ll kill each of us. You know that, right?”

  With confidence I replied, “By the time he finds out, I might kill him.”

  Onyx shook her head and mumbled, “I give up,” then walked away. Wasn’t the first time someone had given up on me.

  Easing from the makeup chair, I glanced at my plump shiny golden lips. Lips that men craved, then raved about having on their dicks. Confidently I whispered, “I’m nobody’s whore anymore.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Lace

  “Lick my pussy, B.”

  “Gripping Benito’s ears, I shifted his mouth directly over my voluptuous pussy. “That’s it. Right there. No, baby, not my clit. Not yet, Daddy.” Slowly I swerved sideways, thrusting my precious pearl against his full sexy lips with each word. “Damn, your hard, hot tongue feels so fuckin’ good, Daddy, I can’t stop cumming.”

  Vigorously Benito’s head shook side to side.

  The leopard faux fur throw I’d sprawled on the living room floor puckered underneath my ass. Mimicking making a snow angel, I surrendered to the fluffy hairs, creating a cool breeze beneath my angel wings. Imagining flying high abov
e clouds of joy, I envisioned heaven must feel like having a nonstop orgasm.

  “You okay, baby?” B asked, interrupting my visual of doing to Sunny what he was doing to me.

  “Uh-huh, I’m real good. You just keep licking. Stay focused. Stay focused.”

  My eyes scrolled toward my brows. Glancing at the plain white walls, I saw that no pictures hung in the living room of my cozy house with two master bedrooms and two and a half baths in upscale Windsor Estates. If there was a God, he had to know I’d had more than my fair share of hardships. I bought this cul-de-sac home for what it offered on the inside: privacy, peace, and serenity with an exterior backdrop of the rustic mountains hugging the city limits of North Las Vegas.

  Relishing the tingling sensation between my thighs, I whispered, “That feels sooo good, B. You’re the best, Daddy.”

  Although I truly loved B, I didn’t trust myself to surrender and make love to him, so I simply enjoyed the moments we shared. For the first time in my life, I had sex whenever I wanted. For the first time in my life, sex was pleasurable. But many other facets of my life were not. Like pretending I was cool knowing my boss was plotting to have me killed.

  Resuming swishing my arms in the softness, I wished I would’ve had the fortitude to torment the men that fucked me over. Why I tolerated so much abuse I had no idea. Getting real, I thought, Yes, I do. I accepted their abuse because I hadn’t learned how to love myself. I’m not sure if I know how to love myself now but I’m working on it. And I’ve changed my mind about firing Sunny tomorrow night. Tonight was Sunny’s last night, right after I finished my fantasy of being with her.

  I was thankful those abusive days were gone for Sunny and me. All the things I’d done to please my ex-men I refused to do for Benito. No stripping, no role-playing, and definitely no massages. No cooking, cleaning the house, or washing clothes, like I’d done for the madam at Pussyland. To earn my full-time stay I became her part-time maid for eleven long arduous years. Now all of the chores in my home were Benito’s job and the least he could do since I was our primary source of income and he was at my house all damn day.

  “Your pussy tastes sweeter than honey. Um, um, um, so good, woman, I could eat your pussy forever,” Benito mumbled, lapping his tongue between my lip and my shaft.

  Hm, sweeter than honey. He was absolutely right.

  My fingertips danced in B’s short wavy hair. Why couldn’t I love him completely? With B around all the time, I felt his love for me. I could stay with him forever, but never could I escape my past. All those years working at the ranch made me insensitive toward men.

  I’d watched a john take his last breath while refusing to give him one of mine. I knew CPR and easily could’ve saved his life or at least tried. Instead I stared into his sunken blue eyes feeling no remorse. I’d secretly done the world a favor adding one less jerk to womankind. Deep inside, I knew I had a heart, but sometimes I wasn’t sure if it was beating. If there truly was a heaven, I’m headed straight to hell, but hell would have to wait until I redeemed myself, and God knows how long that’ll take.

  I braced Benito’s forehead with my palm. “Aw, shit,” I hissed. “Slow down. You gon’ make me cum too fast, Daddy. Oh yeah, wiggle the tip of your tongue inside me. Now up and down my shaft. Come on, B, go slower, baby.”

  There were so many more ways I could please Benito in bed, but the skills I possessed were supposedly reserved exclusively for sexperts and prostitutes with names like Tongue-a-luscious and Wonder Pussy.

  Panting to catch my breath, I pinched my nipples, then watched those babies harden as I trembled with pleasure while B trickled warm drops of saliva on my clit.

  “Tell me how you want it, Lace. I’m never satisfied until you’ve finished cuming,” Benito groaned, burying his face in my Brazilian-waxed pussy.

  At first I was scared to have the hairs snatched off my pussy, but now pain for me was pleasurable. The silkiness of my fresh pussy was amazingly orgasmic for both of us. My pussy felt so exhilarating I wanted to show her to the world. I cherished my kitty cat more than I loved B.

  Rubbing B’s face in my secretions, I relished his undying desire to please me in and out of the bedroom. B would do anything for me…including die. In return, I definitely had his back but not quite like that. I wasn’t dying for anyone, especially a man.

  Cuming a little, I grunted, “Yeah, B. Shit yeah. Move your tongue up my pussy, um, down the other side, yes, yes, baby, please go slower.”

  “Oh Lawd,” I gasped when Benito’s tongue made its way down the other side, then darted straight up the middle of my shaft, lightly fluttering on the tip of my clit, meshing his spit with my cum. “You are soooo wrong for that shit.” My spine flattened against the floor, shooting my hips upward and stuffing my pussy deeper into B’s mouth.

  Benito hummed, “Mmmmm,” as he flicked his tongue.

  “Oh, baby. Suck her softly. Please,” I begged, scratching the crown of Benito’s head.

  Brushing away my hands, Benito squeezed my breasts, forcing me to release another orgasm. My body tingled all over. This orgasm lasted longer than the one before. B’s ultramoist succulent lips made my stomach rise. Arching my back, I enjoyed multiple orgasms. Embarking upon a major climatic explosion, I withheld releasing the big one, fearing I’d fall asleep afterward, but being late for work wasn’t an option.

  I was a perfectionist and Valentino was sporadically a loose cannon. He was the type of man who would act first, then say “Fuck it” later. Lately he’d mentioned starting a family. What kind of woman would marry a pimp? Or how could Valentino be a role model for children, including his own? His mind was set on Sunny, but Sunny deserved better. Valentino would never choose a woman like me. A woman he couldn’t control. A woman smarter than him. Valentino wanted a nanny-trophy-beautiful wife to birth and rear his offspring, fuck him, feed him, never talk back, and not complicate his life.

  Squeezing my upper vaginal muscles, I held back, careful not to allow the epileptic-like twitching inside my vaginal walls to travel to my G-spot. If I screwed up and did that shit I’d cum so hard my body would go into convulsions.

  “Ease up just a little, B,” I desperately urged.

  “I know what you want,” Benito said, yanking me closer. Grabbing his hard dick, he rubbed his head on my slushy pussy. Popping the head in two inches, B thrust upward into my G-spot.

  Scooting backward, I screamed, “Ouch! What the fuck was that shit!” knocking B over as I leapt to my feet doing hopscotch in place.

  Benito lay there looking up at me. Flip-flopping his hands back and forth, B inspected both sides. “What? My fingers? I was holding my dick.”

  “I told your dumb ass not to put your raggedy-ass nails anywhere near my pussy until you got a manicure!”

  Rising on his knees, B yelled, “Get out of my face with that, Lace! I just got my nails done this morning.” Holding his hands high in the air, Benito rambled on, “See? Look at them. I even got two coats of clear just the way you like. I’m not going down this road with you again! I barely touched you!”

  “You’re just like Don, B! You’re a good-for-nothing-but-a-wet-dream son of a bitch! I ask you to do one simple thing…tell the truth…and you can’t even get that right! Dumb fuck.”

  B’s dick hung south along with his chin. “How many times am I going to have to pay another man’s debt? Huh? You won’t tell me what he did to you, but I keep getting blamed. Serious, Lace, you need to see a psychiatrist.”

  “You callin’ me crazy? Fuck you! You need to take your freeloading ass home! Oh yeah. That’s right. What home!” I yelled in his face, staring down on him.

  Whenever I threatened to kick B out, he conceded. But he was right. Don’s jagged nails against my pussy left me emotionally scarred. Not a day went by when I didn’t blame myself or Benito for what Don had done to me. I refused to look at B’s nails, afraid that bad memories would resurface of how I obsessively filed my johns’ fingernails before I allowed them to touch me.
If it weren’t for Don’s lying ass, I’d probably have a good job at a respectable firm making a decent living.

  Decent. The most judgmental word in the dictionary was meaningless in a so-called free country. People condemning one another as if their opinions were gospel when in fact their opinions didn’t mean shit. Not to me anyway. Where in the hell were those dressed-in-all-white missionaries of the church when I was molested, then kicked out on the streets? Probably at Sunday morning service sitting a few pews ahead of another girl like me mumbling under their breath to one another about how indecent that little girl was.

  I heard them shoo-shooing about me. “Uh-huh. I heard she fast. Doing all them nasty things with grown mens…Amen! Hallelujah! All right, Rev, tell the truth and shame the devil!…Sister, where was I? Oh yeah, she almost stole her mama’s husband. Somebody needs to tell her her kind ain’t welcome in the House of the Lord.”

  What a difference a day makes? That one night sleeping on the porch and sitting in church changed my entire life. Weren’t those missionaries supposed to help save me? A tear fell onto my cheek.

  B wiped it away, then affectionately said, “I’m sorry, baby. I need to be more understanding,” then gently placed his hands beside his hips. “Let me finish what I started.”

  Benito’s eyes bypassed my navel as he stared up at me.

  Did I just see B narrow his eyes before nestling his cheek into my pussy? Was that a look of disgust for me or the situation at hand? I made a mental note of that shit. I could look in a man’s eyes and simultaneously know his intentions and his deepest desires. B was pissed at me but couldn’t do shit to his satisfaction because he had no place to go.