Brooklyn Brothel Page 7

  Next thing I knew, I slapped myself in the mouth tryna drown out the sounds from my first orgasm of the night. When it was all said and done, she stayed between my legs until I had bust well ova three nuts. That night, we fell asleep in each otha’s arms, which was a weird situation, but felt damn good.

  Chapter 7

  The next mornin’ I woke up to both gigglin’ and yellin’. Serita had come to the room as usual to wake up a few of the girls who had trouble wakin’ up and gettin’ themselves together before the 11:45 bell. She wasn’t happy about what she saw. Sasha was still in my bed ass-naked and had her arms wrapped around my waist. We were both in the fetal position until I heard my name being called. I jumped up, and shook Sasha a few times until she finally woke up. Serita stormed out of the room, while the otha girls belted out mean comments.

  “Tricks will be tricks,” Darla announced. “Damn, Salt and Pepper fuckin’ now,” another belted.

  Cinnamon, who was already dressed looked highly disappointed in me. She turned away, grabbed her purse, and left the room without sayin’ one word. I remained stuck, frozen, with the sheet pulled up around my neck. I was too ashamed to lift myself from the bed without any clothes on. As I searched the floor with my eyes lookin’ for my dress from last night, Sasha hopped up ass-naked like everythin’ was cool. Her breasts shook out in the open and her smooth skin flaunted openly for everyone to see. Again, the snickers from across the room shamed me.

  “Fuck them,” Sasha said loudly.

  I glanced ova to see everyone fleein’ from the room. Sasha didn’t talk a lot, but when she spoke most people listened. While we got dressed, she rattled on about her plan. She told me that she had a lot of money saved and could help me get Carlton back. She said she was about to get her daughter from her mother, and together we could have a good life.

  In my mind, I started repeatin’ the ridiculous word, together. She said after I got my money from Betty I could just leave with her. When I told her I would think about it, she snapped.

  “Didn’t you enjoy last night?” she barked.

  “Ah…yeah.”

  “Well, what’s the problem? I can make you feel good like that all the time.”

  Her voice was sharp, and unwelcomin’. I needed some space. “Last night was good, Sasha, I just need time to think. That’s it,” I said, headin’ to the shower.

  She seemed a little exasperated by my response. “I need to know by tonight!” she shouted, while angrily throwing her clothes around in her suitcase.

  I took my time washin’ my pussy and all in the cracks where Sasha’s tongue had played, hoping she would forget about what happened with us. As soon as I stepped from the shower, a nightmare stood waitin’ to happen. She looked angry, like she wanted to kick my ass. Betty was in my doorway.

  “What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t bring that dyke shit up in here!” she told us all.

  I stood drippin’ wet with my towel wrapped tightly around me. I wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. But when Sasha spoke up being real cocky, we all looked surprised.

  “Look, we’re two grown adults. We didn’t fuck on your time and didn’t make you lose any money. So now what?” Her eyes took Betty head on.

  I guess Betty knew Sasha didn’t have a pimp, so she targeted me personally.

  “Just what if I called Bo, and told him about your lil’ freaky, twisted-ass rendezvous. You already in hot water, girl!”

  “Call’em,” I said, tryna be strong. “It’ll probably turn’em on. And he might want me to bring Sasha back with me.”

  My comment had Betty at a loss for words. She turned and left when Maria walked back in. Maria was a Spanish chick from Texas who had talked to me for the first time yesterday. She loved to speak Spanish behind Betty’s back callin’ her all kinds of sluts and otha foul names. She gave me a high-five and asked me if I would pin her hair up when she got out the shower.

  “Sure I will,” I said, tryna find my best outfit for the day. With three days left, this had to be a big money day for me.

  “Maria’s a big girl. She can do her own hair,” Sasha blurted out in a nasty tone.

  “But she asked me to do it.” I held my palms open, wonderin’ what was the big deal.

  “Then you do it,” she snapped, and stormed from the room.

  I had the deer stuck in headlights look on my face. “What the hell is wrong with her?” I asked Maria.

  Maria had her hands on her hips. “Girl, you gave her the coochie, that’s what’s wrong. You don’t ever give another chick your goods, ’cause they all get possessive, especially, white girls.”

  “Oh, so she thinks I’m her girl now?”

  “That’s what’s she’s telling everybody.”

  “Oh, hell no…I gotta get this shit straight. I got a man,” I boasted. “Last night was just sex.”

  “You better tell her that, ’cause your mouth must’ve told her something else. Better yet, don’t touch my hair. You probably haven’t washed your hands yet anyway,” she joked.

  Nothin’ was funny to me. Nothin’ at all. I thought about what I had said to Sasha to make her think we were a couple all of a sudden. Then I remembered. When I was cummin’ about the third or fourth time, I did say, “Damn girl…I think I love you.”

  Again, I got hit with another crazy expression from Maria. Our friendship was gonna be shot all for a quick nut or two. I wanted to kick myself. Here I go again, makin’ bad decisions, I told myself.

  Half the day passed by, and I was back in line for the third time of the day. My red ensemble was a hell’u’va choice. The red fish-net stockings, and next to nothin’, boy shorts allowed my butt cheeks to hang out, which made me just as scrumptious as a piece of red velvet cake. I stood real cocky-like with my red bustier front and center for the new guy to see. I made sure I stood at the complete opposite end from Sasha. She hadn’t said anything since the Maria ordeal, but she’d been throwin’ me shade ova the last couple of hours. I mouthed to her that we needed to talk. Just before her response could be made, a thin, brown-skinned gentleman with well defined muscles stopped in front of me. I smiled widely after he chose me, then led him to the third room to my left, as he introduced himself as Muhammed. He reminded me of someone, I just couldn’t put my finger on it. I knew I loved muscular black men with beards. His was sorta too long and bushy, but it was kinda turnin’ me on.

  “Are you a Muslim?” I asked.

  “Are you a housewife?” he responded.

  We laughed together while I squeezed the skin on his upper body tryin’ to see if he was as firm as he looked. I could tell he worked out and that he was in his late twenties. No lines, or wrinkles around his eyes or hands. As we walked to our assigned room, I rubbed all ova his body just a lil’ more, then made my way down to his crotch. Surprisingly, he was already rock hard.

  Muhammed told me up front that he wanted the works, yet didn’t have a lot of cash. He opened up a black bag that revealed tons of fine jewelry. He admitted to robbin’ a jewelry store some weeks ago and offered me jewelry in exchange for sex.

  “I need some cash,” I said, obviously slightly interested in the jewelry.

  “I got a hundred and fifty. You can choose a piece of jewelry to cover the rest.”

  While I thought about his offer, Muhammed dumped all the pieces onto the bed.

  My eyes were blinded by sparklin’ diamonds, colored emeralds, 18 carat gold chains, and a fine set of white pearls. Pearls had a special place in my heart. They reminded me of my mother. It was the only thing that her mother, my grandmother, had left her. She’d inherited them from a rich woman that she worked for back in the 40’s and told my mother to pass them on to me when I got of age. Of course, I neva got’em.

  “I’ll take these,” I announced, gazin’ at the long pearl necklace.

  “Damn…you got good taste lady. I need some head, some ass licking and everything for that.”

  I laughed and told him for the head I wanted the gold chain
too, for my son.

  Muhammed nodded and slipped his shoes off his feet. It was crazy ’cause all of a sudden it came to me; he reminded me of the rapper Ja Rule with a long, thick beard.

  I started to undress him seductively by liftin’ his shirt ova his head. His abs were incredible, so appealin’. I wanted to lick his mid-section. I unfastened his belt, and allowed his pants to fall to the floor. I dropped to the floor, grabbin’ at his erect penis and sucked him off for the next five minutes. When he came, he squirted like an out of control water gun. I felt pleased with my work, ’cause Muhammed’s eyes had rolled to the back of his head.

  I wanted to keep my gig movin’, so I could get back out there to scoop another John. I pushed Muhammed back into the chair next to the dresser and told him to sit back and relax. I swayed back and forth to the imaginary music in my head. Muhammed was about to see my first striptease act. I watched his penis get stiffer as if it were about to explode, while I danced from side to side. Ecstasy had to be in his system or some shit, ’cause I’d neva seen a dick so swollen it looked like it hurt.

  Erotically, I unfastened my bra and swung it above my head, just before stuffin’ it into Muhammed’s mouth. I slowly slid my panties down ova my thighs, with the tip of my thumb scrubbin’ about my droolin’ lips. I knew I had Muhammed’s full attention when he stroked his manhood rapidly.

  Once my panties fell to the floor, I stepped out of them, and placed one foot up on the bed to expose my newly shaven pussy. I spread my lips with my fingers and slowly pet at my clitoris. I even turned myself on when I started moanin’. “Yes Daddy, yes Daddy,” I growled. Muhammed started moanin’ with me. He closed his eyes, titled his head and once again groaned his request.

  “Turn around, quick,” he ordered.

  He had his hand pullin’ his dick back and forth, goin’ twenty miles an hour. I turned around allowing Muhammed to push me ova, leavin’ my ass high in the air in front of his face. With my ass ceilin’ bound, he shot his machine gun all ova my asshole.

  When he finished releasin’, it took me about fifteen minutes to clean up and get back out to the floor. I only had $150 in cash, but extremely happy with my jewelry, especially my pearls.

  By ten o’clock, I had given up on gettin’ another client, until Tony walked in the door, walkin’ like Tony Montana. Instantly, I perked up. My Italian lover had come back for me as he said he would.

  “Papi’s home,” he sang.

  I fell out in laughter ’cause I knew he wanted me. He walked briskly, and waved the otha girls off who prepared to stand, showcasin’ themselves. He marched ova to me, grabbed my hand, and led me to the room with the open door.

  I began to undress right away, wantin’ to really please Tony in ways he’d neva been pleased before. He told me to stop, and that he wanted to just chill, relax a bit before gettin’ his nuts off. He claimed he’d had a rough day.

  I watched him climb onto the bed, crossin’ his legs like he was on vacation. All he needed was a Pina Colada and some Calypso music to finish off his mood. Ironically, his skin tone was of a tanned complexion, and his haircut was short. Allowin’ his stringy strands to lay perfectly.

  I climbed on the bed with him and rubbed my finger through his hair. He started tellin’ me about a few of his workers that had been givin’ him some trouble and needed to be handled. Then he rambled on about his future, includin’ where he saw himself in five years. It sounded bright and prosperous to me. Listenin’ to him talk, it was certain he had mad business sense along with several types of businesses.

  “So where do you see yourself in five years?” he asked, catchin’ me off-guard.

  “I see myself married to you, with two kids, a white picket fence, and caught up in the Mafia.”

  We both laughed as I kissed him on his stomach a few times.

  “That’s not too far fetched, you know?” He smiled up at me. “That could fuckin’ be arranged.”

  I laughed at the fact that he said fuckin’ in every otha sentence. It was wild ’cause when niggas back in Pittsburgh said the word it was disrespectful, but when Tony said it, suddenly it became charmin’. I kissed him again, noticin’ that his shit was rock hard. It wasn’t long before he gave me the look that he wanted to fuck.

  I took his shirt completely off, and slid his pants down seductively, nibblin’ in the process with my teeth. I preferred black men, but Tony, I would marry in a heart beat. Italian men were half white, half-black anyway, so I’d heard. Before I knew it, we were bangin’ like two horny jack rabbits. Tony would moan, groan, curse, then tell me how good my pussy was. I was in la la land and wanted his ass to spend the night.

  For the next twenty minutes, Tony took his time workin’ his rod inside of me. It barely felt like the condom was on, but I had seen him slap it on before we got busy. At first his strokes were easy goin’ as he moaned in ecstasy. He’d told me when we first met, he preferred to fuck with speed, so when he flipped me into a missionary style position, and started pumpin’ his ass in and out like a jack rabbit, he got me hyped.

  The bed got to squeakin’ and feelin’ like it was about to break. His dick kept stabbin’ my kitty, harder and harder. I just knew he would puncture my uterus.

  Before long, we fell on top of one another and rolled around on the bed like two lovers. I figured it was a fantasy for me, ’cause the next John would treat me like shit.

  When Tony left, he passed me his cell number. He had a look in his eye that confirmed he wanted more from me than just a fuck. “Whenever, you come back into town, call me. I’ll rush right over.”

  “I will.”

  “I’m fuckin’ serious,” he said shakin’ his forefinger my way.

  Needless to say, he left me with a smile on my face; actually my first smile of the day. Toward the end of the night I sat on one of the velvet sofas countin’ my cash. It had been a good day. The best day yet for me. I was finally learnin’ how to use my head. I didn’t always have to let every John lay me down and fuck me like a dog in heat. I had to be creative and make my money without always gettin’ my pussy pounded. In all, I’d collected $2,000 dollars. But I was tellin’ Betty’s ass that I’d only made a ‘g’.

  Sasha passed by like the Wicked Witch of the West, catchin’ me off guard. I asked her to come ova so we could talk.“You made your decision yet?”

  She was so damn aggressive. I was scared to even answer. “Look, I’m not goin’ back to Bo, if that’s what you’re thinkin’.”

  Sasha crossed her arms and changed her stance from easygoin’ to whip ass mode. I’m so glad her ass is leavin’ the house tonight. I don’t wanna keep talkin’ about this, I thought.

  “Sasha, I’m not gay. Last night was just sex. I was drunk and just experimentin’.”

  “Didn’t seem like you was experimenting to me.”

  “Look, I’m gonna collect my money from Betty in three more days, and go somewhere close to my son.…I’m sorry, I just can’t go with you. I got my…”

  Her hand flew up toward my face. Sasha shot me with a poisonous look and walked away. I tried to talk to her later on, but she gave me the cold shoulder. She did however leave me a note on my bed before she left tellin’ me to give her fuckin’ wig back.

  Chapter 8

  Days passed and it was time for me to say my goodbyes. Cinnamon hugged me like three times in between me draggin’ my suitcase toward the door and cleanin’ out my dresser drawers. It was important to make sure nothin’ was bein’ left behind. I didn’t know where the hell I was headed once I got to Pittsburgh, but I was outta Betty’s for sure.

  I’d made $10,200 dollars in all, half of which I shoulda been takin’ back with me. I was also takin’ the $680 that I’d made in tips; money that I’d managed to keep away from Betty and Serita. The rest, Betty was supposed to give me just before leavin’ out the door. It was only ten o’clock in the mornin’, and my bus didn’t leave until after five. I had been rushin’ since I woke up, hopin’ not to run into Sasha before I je
tted for good.

  I figured I would take a taxi downtown, explore a few sights; maybe even go into the Empire State Building or visit Rockefeller Center. It was funny how I felt free, even though I hadn’t officially told Bo I was done with him. Once I was far away, I’d already told myself that I at least owed him a phone call.

  He needed to know that he’d taken advantage of a good black woman when she was down, but that I was strong, and now realized he didn’t have my best interest at heart.

  Cinammon helped me get all of my stuff down the stairs when Mike walked in the door. He winked at me. I was just about to wink back when Betty called me into her office. This was the first time I wanted an office visit. I wanted my cash!

  She told me to sit down, she had somethin’ important to tell me. She told me she’d just gotten off the phone with Bo, and that she’d been ordered by Bo and Sugar G not to give me any money to take back on the bus.

  I jumped from my seat. “You can’t do this Betty!” I shouted angrily. Devastation couldn’t even get close to what I felt.

  “He told me to send it all Western Union,” she said causin’ chill bumps to appear on my arms. “Sugar G said it would be best just in case you got robbed or mugged.”

  I flipped, and stood up like a soldier ready for war. “Betty that’s my money. And you know it. Hand it ova,” I warned, “or else.”

  “Or else what?” Her voice deepened and her face crinkled. She stood up, towerin’ ova me. “First of all bitch, I don’t take too fucking kindly to threats. I understand you’re upset, but I gotta business to run, and regular clients to satisfy. Now, I told you before, Sugar G sends me plenty of business. He’s connected. So I gotta keep my reputation as a straight by the book business woman.”