Brooklyn Brothel by C. Stecko Page B

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 fifteenminutes 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