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“So why’d you select me to do it?”
“I’ll be frank. My
parents are—how shall I say it—strict as shit, so I’ve been dick-deprived while all my friends have been living it up like that JaRule song.” I reached out and started rubbing his dick through his shorts. “Now it’s my turn.”
“That still doesn’t answer the question. Why me?”
It was obvious that he wanted me to blow up his ego. I decided if that’s what it took, so fucking be it.
“Why you? Hmph, well, you’re obviously fine, but you know that already. As I said before, I like the way you talk and your accent is the shit. Your ride is slamming and so is your place. If I have to give it up to someone to get the party started, why not you?” I rubbed his dick more aggressively and went in for the kill. “After all, you’re damn near perfect!”
He blushed and rubbed his chin. “I just love a woman that recognizes perfection when she sees it.” Then he disappointed me. “What’s your major?”
I frowned. “Who gives a fuck what my major is? I want to do the nasty with you, not marry you.”
“For someone with strict parents, you sure have a filthy mouth.”
I got up and started undressing. I was ready to get the first time over with. From what I’d heard, the first time was never all that but it was a necessity. If you never start, you can never excel.
“Okay, fine. My major is fucking with a minor in dick-sucking. How’s that?”
“Smart ass!” He pointed at me and rotated his finger. “If you’re gonna strip, do it right. Twirl around or something.”
“I wasn’t exactly trying to strip. I’m just trying to get buck naked.” He smirked and it angered me. “How the fuck am I supposed to strip without any damn music?”
He got up, went over to a shelf system and turned on Monifah’s “Touch It.” Now that shit just did something to a sister. That’s one of my all-time faves.
I got into the flow of the music and before I knew it, I was ready to rival a professional.
Bernard eyed me with a smile on his face. “You know, you could make a shitload of money stripping on the side. Lots of girls do it to make it through college.”
“My parents have my tuition and shit covered,” I said. “They had one of those college funds for me since birth.”
“Cool, but money can buy a lot of other things, too.”
I got everything off and was ready to stop talking so I said, “Shut the fuck up and get naked with me.”
Bernard chuckled and got up off the couch. He stripped and, while I wasn’t an expert at that time, his dick looked mighty scrumptious to me.
I’m not going to elaborate too much about the rest of the night. As expected, my first time was just a means to an end. It hurt like hell, Bernard was inconsiderate and just went for his, not giving a shit whether I walked away from the experience with anything or not, and I never fucked his ass again. He was just a dick.
I did take his advice, though. After realizing it was expensive as shit to hang out in D.C. and discovering that fly clothes, liquor, and weed were all necessities to be considered “cool” on campus, I took a gig stripping at Omije. To this day, I don’t know what the fuck “Omije” means, but I still work there. I make wheelbarrows full of money, too.
Men are so fucking stupid. You can tell them anything and they believe it. All you have to do is stroke their heads, both of them, and they will give you the lint off their balls if you ask for it.
I don’t pull tricks like most of the other dancers. Fuck that. I pick and choose who I am willing to do. Now, eating my pussy is something totally different. If a man is trying to give up the Benjamins to lick my coochie, they are welcome to it. Women, too, for that matter. I’ve only let a few sisters sample the goods, but tongue action is tongue action, so what the hell.
I love making money for taking off my clothes and shaking my ass. That was one reason I was so mad the day of the fucking flood. There I was, on a Saturday, trying to do the damn thing and study, when those damn cows and pigs started falling from the sky.
There was no way I was going to be able to make it to Omije in weather like that. Water was cascading down the middle of the campus streets like the Nile. I must admit that looking at some of the students trying to walk through that shit was hilarious. Idiots! Common sense should’ve told them to chill where they were.
My only regret was that I wasn’t chilling in my dorm room, instead of the science building. I would’ve preferred to be stuck anywhere but there. Over one of my sorority sisters’ cribs or some damn place.
The building was damn near deserted. I had seen a few peeps earlier but as I went out in the hallway, I didn’t hear anything. You could have heard a mouse pissing on a cotton ball up in that bitch.
To make matters worse, I was starving. I didn’t bother fixing any instant oatmeal before I left my dorm and my stomach was growling like a muthafucka. I went back into the chemistry lab and searched through my backpack for something, anything, to munch on. The only thing I found was one damn Twizzler and it was stuck to the bottom. It had probably been there for months.
I was startled when I heard someone turning the door-knob. In popped the head of the janitor. He looked just as surprised to see me.
