Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 {...Or a 12yo black kid from Oakland, so I'll add where.  Call Alameda
Cary, Apex (She went to school at Wake Tech Community College, which
doesn't have any sports teams, much less chearleaders, and bleachers)
Berkely, and Raleigh Gardens N/E Oakland, walking distance to the docks. 
Or valleys around Los Angeles, whatever.  I will say she's from Raleigh,
which is how she got all the street names/driving routes corect.  She knows
them, and the bus routes as well as a Cabby.

   Not a whole lot of sex here.  Not graphically described, but basically a
flashback.  Babbled out from holding it in, and having no one else to talk
to about it, but still self consciously enough to change All of the
pertinent details...}

   Cheri

   "I thought I was invisible, until I was about eleven, and men started to
notice me.  Not boys, grownup men.  I kind of liked it, after being ignored
for so long.  I'm quiet, shy, I don't really like to talk to people, and
it's always awkward.

   Doesn't mean I don't like attention, I just don't know what to say.  I
stutter, when I'm nervous, and cried a lot whenever someone said something,
tried to be my friend, but I couldn't.  It so scary sometimes, not looking
at me so much, but especially talking.  I had friends, sort of.  I mean, I
hung out, just don't say much.  Wrote a lot of notes, one friend in
particular, we were forced together in school.  For a project, she did the
whole thing, but told me what to write, and we got a A.

   She was the first one that really understood, I just don't like to talk.
I'm bad at it, so we started sending notes.

   She noticed to.  She said I was pretty, an that's why men are starting
to stare.  Especially when I wore a tight top, I was starting to grow, but
shot up skinny at first.  Before I ever got anything up front, but being so
tall and skinny.  I guess that made them look bigger on me.  Not really
boobs, just lumps.  I didn't even get up to a training bra for another
year, much less an A cup.

   So, I wore tighter tops.  I liked to get noticed, and now the boys were
starting to look too.  The teachers finally told me to cover them up.  I
got sent home with a tight white teeshirt, since I didn't bring a jacket or
a change of clothes, but that's when I saw it.  The first time, he was
staring, but then I noticed he had something in his pants.  I knew, boys
have willies, I just didn't know they stuck out like that, and this was a
man.  Not a boy, but he was looking down.  Not at me, at my tight top, and
I was looking at the front of his pants.

   I didn't say anything, but that was okay.  I mean, he looked at me, and
I looked at him, I didn't even blush.  Fair enough, then the bus came, and
I got on.  He didn't, but when I looked out the window.  He was behind the
wall, where the bus stop is, there was a wall behind that, but from the bus
I could see over it.

   He looked right at me, and I couldn't see what he was doing.  Just his
shoulders, and the top of his arm, shaking.  Then the bus took off, I
turned around to see, but he disappeared behind the wall.

   So, I got a jacket, but I really like the white teeshirts.  100% cotton,
I guess there cheap, and cool.  Dad got me a whole bunch for Christmas, but
then I started to outgrow them.  Just in the front, and when I got home. 
Well, I didn't say anything, but he looked at me.

   Like he always did, and I didn't see anything in his pants, but.  You
know, he just looked like dad, always looked at me.  That day I got sent
home to grab a jacket, I noticed.  How he looked at me, the front of my
shirt when I came in the house.  He didn't even ask why I was home. 
Lunchtime, I missed lunch, but spent the money on the bus, but when i came
out, he was gone.

   In the bathroom, I just rushed out to the bus stop before it came back.
From the end of the line, if I'm quick it can drop me off, and pick me back
up on the way back.  So, that's what I did, but like on the way out, it was
just me and the driver the whole time.

   It was hot, the Air conditioner was on, but with the jacket on, I took
it off, but saw how sweaty I got.  Real quick, just running to the stop,
and getting on, then I took the hot jacket off, but that's how I saw what
happens when white cotton gets wet.

   "Huh!" I pulled it out, and shook it so it dried, in the air condition,
and that was cool, but the driver kept looking up.  In the mirror, we
stopped at a light, and he didn't stare, but he looked, a lot.  Real quick,
then back at the road, so I liked that.

   Then, I got to school, and it was cool.  Enough for the jacket all day,
I zipped it down, but the AC in that building was like, on, or off.  There
was a heater too, but in the spring, it wasn't that hot.  They still had it
on, so it was sort of chilly without it, until you got used to it.  I
rolled my sleeves up, and left it open, so I didn't get to hot and sweaty.

   I sweat more, then when I was a little girl, but this was the first year
I really noticed.  It stunk too, if I didn't wash it off, that's why they
have showers in Gym, I guess.  The girls started to stare, not that day, I
missed it entirely, but then I started looking around.  Instead of avoiding
eye contact, and I mean Stare stare.  This one girl just stood there, half
naked, and held her shirt.  Staring, her mouth wide open, still in her
shorts until the bell rang.  I liked it, she was little.  Short, as skinny
as me, but you know.  Nothing showing, so I guess she was just interested,
but I let her have a good look before I put on my clean shirt.

   I brought another one, for changing after gym, but the Coach said
something about the shirts I wear.  Especially when I got sweaty, so I sit
it out, and put on my jacket.  I told her, all the ones I got that fit,
like a dozen of the same white teeshirts, "It's not the same shirt.  See?"
I even showed her the clean one, but I didn't mind.  Watching from the
bleachers, why we have to learn Basketball anyway.  I was the tallest one
there, and in 6 grade, so one of the tallest kids in school.  It's still
way up there, it's not like we had a lot of black kids, or a team.  Seemed
a waste of time to me, so I wrote an note to my friend.

   My best friend, I guess.  Not my only one, but the one that understood
the best.  I don't remember it, we didn't keep them, but probably about
what's on my mind.  On my chest, and how I liked the attention.  I must
have mentioned the guy from the day before.  At the bus stop, then beating
off behind it, because she told me what that ment at Lunch.  Not the girl
staring at me, in the locker room, that happened after that.

   She laughed, "You know, he was beating off?" Real low, but the lunch
room was loud, so if we whispered, we wouldn't hear each other, and we had
the table because nobody sat with us.  She showed me, under the table. 
"Like this?"

   "Yeah," I nodded, "My dad does that."

   She laughed, "You seen it?"

   "Well, I didn't know what it ment, but, like when he's watching
football, or.  Stuff.  I don't know, he's like 'Oh, cummon, Ref!' Then, he
does this." I did it.

   "Well, that mean he playin with heself."

   "His willy?"

   "Yeah, donchou play with yoself?" I'm not going to name any names, but
that's how she talked, and kind of how she became my girlfriend.  Not like
we started kissing, right there in the lunchroom, but she told me all about
it.  We didn't have sex ed, our mothers were supposed to tell us about it,
and those of us without mothers heard from our friends.  I didn't know that
girls could play with ourselves, for one thing we didn't get woodys, so we
couldn't jerk off like this.

   I took notes, I was real good at it, and a straight a student except for
Gym, and I don't know to this day why we're graded on Sports.  I don't care
about football, I never cared, and you can fail because you didn't do good
enough, but in high school, the dumbest kid there is could pass if he could
throw a ball, or bounce it running good enough.  I still don't get it.

   Then we went to Social Studies, and she pretended to take notes, but
kept passing me pictures.  Dirty pictures, of her pisser, and her privates.
My jacket got real hot, but I didn't dare take it off, because it would be
a distraction for the boys.  She had them too, and a booty.  So, the boys
looked at her too, especially in the lunch room, but maybe that took some
attention away from mine, and I'm not sure if that was a relief, or I was
jealous because hers were a little bigger.

   It was just confusing, but I was able to keep quiet.  Laughing, I didn't
have to laugh out loud, but she giggled a lot, and she's loud.  So, she
didn't get caught passing dirty pictures, but got sent to the office for
being a "Disruption." So, I looked at the board, and copied the notes, I
was only half listening, so I guess it was true, but all that was so much
more interesting, and exciting.

   Then, she was waiting after class.  We had periods, in 5th and 6 grade.
To get us ready for Jr High, but just the lunch bells.  Ask me why they
have 2 years of middle school, 4 of High school, and 6 of grade school, but
that's how they did it.  So, anyway she waited for me, and then we wound up
skipping.  She told me to smell her fingers, and I did.  She said it was
"Pussy." On her fingers, or that's what she did while she was waiting, and
the first time we did it at school.

   Instead of going to class, so she was a distraction, and I didn't mind.
Didn't say anything, she did all the talking.  Like "First you gotta wake
up you titty." I tried to squeeze mine like she did.  Right there in the
handycap stall, I back up against the door so I could see, but she sat on
the toilet, and spread her legs.  Pulled her shirt up, and took off her
bra.

   She had real boobs.  I mean, they even boobed a little on the bottom. 
Not saggy, really, just round?  Mine weren't big enough to get round on the
bottom, but she sucked her finger, and her thumb.  "Just get the nipples,
like this." Then she got her other finger, and thumb wet, to pinch, and
slip her nipples in them.

   "Like this?" She nodded, but didn't even open her eyes to look.  I could
really smell her, pussy then.  Like her fingers, from playing with herself
waiting for me to get out of Social Studies.  My shirt was real hot, and
sweaty from wearing my jacket, and looking at the dirty pictures she drew.
In class, it was exciting just to look at them when I was supposed to be
taking notes, and paying attention.

   I never looked, before.  Between my legs, nobody even told me not to
play with it, just don't let men see it.  Well, not my dad, he's my dad,
and while he didn't walk around naked all the time, he didn't make me put
on clothes, or anything.  It's just my body, and when I started growing, he
said boys would start trying to get in my pants.  He didn't say anything
about girls, you know Boys will be Boys?

   Well, they didn't think about girls molesting eachother in elementary
school.  All I heard about was Strangers, boys, men, and not even anything
about what they would do if they caught you.  Just to not let them, which
is why I got a friend in the first place.  Simone was just the only one who
really wanted to be my friend, or so I thought.  It was years before I even
sought therapy, and by then it was all about the Flasher.  In high school,
as a freshman, but cause when a boy does it, or a man, you think about it
as something dirty.

   When a girl did it, I thought it was gay.  I was gay, because that's
what girls who have sex with eachother are.  She told me, and got off again
just fingering herself in the toilet in front of me.  I tried it, feeling
my boobies through the damp sweaty cotton, and even stuck my hand in there,
but I stayed dressed.  She kept going, told me, "I finish, but that don't
mean you gotta quit."

   She just kept doing it, playing with herself in front of me, until the
bell rung.  Then she pulled her underpants up, under her skirt, and had me
help her with her bra.  I never had one, so I didn't really know how, but
it's little hooks, and loops.  She had to tell me to use the first ones. 
Like a belt, it had 3 rows of hooks, so you can loosen it when you get
bigger, but she was still on the first set.

   Then, she pulled down her shirt, and we went off to class, but I kept
going back to the pictures.  Up against the wall, I always sat in the back,
corner.  I could look out the window, but really I just held up my book, so
I could look at the pictures, and put my notes over it if the teacher came
back.  So, nobody saw me, but that's.  That was always a big part of it for
me.  Ever since that first time, playing with myself in public.

   The thrill is I could get caught, but it really pays off when I don't.
Getting away with it is what gets me off, not right there in class, but I
did.  Unsnapped my pants as quiet as I could, and stuck my hand in there.
Until the bell rang, I didn't get off, but I did stink up my fingers real
good, and the most exciting part was all the boys around me.  The other
girls, and even the teacher had no idea what I just done.

   Watched a girl fingerfuck herself in the restroom, then came back to
play with myself in class.  I didn't moan, or grunt, I don't really know
why people do that.  I'm quiet, I can even laugh or cry quietly, but I saw
porn.  Later, after that but all I can figure is they do that for the
camera.  I don't, but I got good and horny, the whole class.  Didn't take a
single note, just wrote down the reading, and page numbers.

   Then the homework assignment, at the end.  I had to pull my fingers out,
of my underwear to pick up the pencil.  Not inside me, I didn't even know I
had a hole down there.  Or another one, but my desk didn't have a seat
around the bottom, like the toilet.  So, I couldn't really get my finger
in, I just rubbed up front.  With my finger wet, like she showed me.  I put
my head down, to get it wet again, when nobody was looking, and stuck it
back in there.

   I found my clitty.  Real quick, and figured out all kinds of ways to
stimulate it with just a wet fingertip.  Under my jacket, my shirt got so
sweaty it clung to me, and if I looked back, with my head down I could see
them.  Through the shirt, except the wrincles, it was so wet it was
transparent, and better then being naked.  Because it clung to them, so I
didn't have to use my hands, to hold them.  I thought about wearing a bra,
and what that looked like, how Simone looked in hers, when she pulled her
shirt up, before she reached back and unhooked it.

   Which led to thinking about her titty.  She wore a dark baggy top, with
a high neck, and bloused sleeves, so you couldn't even see she was wearing
a bra.  It was tan, "Nude" in the catalogs, but her skin was darker then
it, even though it was the darkest tan you can get, and she had on matching
panties.  Granny panties, really.  She pulled them down to her high tops,
so she could spread her legs, and show me.  Just like the pictures she drew
of her pussy.

   I never even looked at mine, but she knew hers good enough to draw it.
The first one I ever saw good, so I didn't know they're different.  I was
surprised to see mine when she got out the mirror, and showed me.  After
school, she invited me over to her house.  Well, it wasn't a house, she had
an apartment with her mom, and her step father.  Lots of boys and girls,
like the Brady Bunch, but she was the oldest.

   Turns out her mom was white, but "She like black men." Always, her
daddy, and all her half brothers and sisters daddys.  Her step daddy too,
so that's why she didn't have other friends.  Being mixed race, I didn't
know but the black kids call her Cracka just like the white boys called her
Nigger.  She didn't have a place, really.  Except with me, alone at the
table.  She had some old bras, though, saved them for her sista, when she
got old enough to need them.

   She kicked her sister, and half sister out.  The girl's room, big old
apartment, but that means her momma, and her husband had to work.  To
afford it, but that also means kids there, all the time.  Except for
school, I guess, but by the time we got there, they're already there.  I
sat with them, in the back of the bus.  We didn't do anything, I just
listened to them talk.  All mixed, half white, but around here, that was
black, according to the white men that run things.  Still is, they still
do, we got the same Senator we did when we were growing up, because he's
been in congress since the 70s.

   Shit.  Where was I?  Sorry, don't mean to get bogged down with Politics,
but it's in Context.  Why we had to keep it secret, she couldn't hide being
black, but she could hide being a lesbian, and making me a lesbian.  She
used it as an excuse, digging the hand-me-down box out of the closet, and
telling me to take my shirt off for her.  Oh yeah, and she smelled my
fingers, on the way to the schoolbus.  Before I met her siblings, she even
licked and sucked it.  The one I had in my pussy, when nobody was looking,
and I got a little thrill from getting away with it.

   Then, I guess that was the first time she touched me, sexually.  I mean,
we're friends, we sat next to eachother, and sometimes she put her arm over
my shoulders when we're eating, but I didn't think that was sexual.  It
wasn't for me, I didn't ask her, but then I wasn't thinking sexually, and
didn't think of it as molestation for decades after that.  I'm just now
realizing all she did, she was so sneaky about it, because all my therapy
was about men, and how they made me feel about sex.  Bad, wrong, especially
my dad.

   He really fucked me up.  Confused me, saying 1 thing, and doing another.
He never remarried, he just worked, and warned me about men.  Boys too, but
he really ment other men.  Our relationship was affectionate, and I already
told you I thought nothing of seeing him naked.  Being naked around him, or
when he made me hug and kiss him.  I didn't like it, but it was, just like
a duty.  Something a little girl does for her father, it's just how it was.
How I was raised, wearing pants because he never even bought me skirts.

   I like them, they have pockets, but he did it to keep me from showing my
underwear.  My ass, and my privates.  To anyone else, he didn't mind me
walking around the house in my underpants, until I put on a nightshirt, or
something.  My only hand me downs, his old teeshirts, and shorts.  Boxer
shorts, over my panties, those were pretty much my pajamas when my hips
started filling out.

   His old underwear, I'm sure he didn't think about it, but he bought me
white cotton teeshirts, by the dozen.  Let me wear them all year, so they
were too tight, and you could see my breasts bud through them.  My nipples
when it got cold, then the sides clinging to it with sweat.  No bra,
because he didn't buy them for me, and I didn't ask.  I didn't talk to him,
or anyone much, nor think anything of it, because it was normal to me.

   When really, he was treating me like his wife.  He didn't touch me, but
he looked, and bought clothes for me so he could see better.  Me growing
up, my boobs, and even my butt.  In my panties, with one of his shirts on
for bed, like I could never dress going out, but for him.  Yeah, I could
dress like that for him, and I never saw him erect, but I saw his penis. 
All the time, we just had 1 bathroom, in the tiny 2 bedroom house.

   Its funny, but Simone's apartment was bigger.  Not in a complex, but
downtown, or between there and State, but more like a New York apartment. A
walkup, 3 stories, but they were on the 2nd floor, so it was just 1 flight
of stairs to the landing, and her door down the hall.  No elevator, but
there was a fire escape on the other side, and back stairs down to the back
yard.  If there was a fire, and it blocked one set of stairs, you could use
the other, but there wasn't.

   She said we're going to do homework, when she kicked her sistas out, but
really she ment sex-ed.  The whole reason she took me home was to loan me a
bra, but after she hooked it on, she kissed me, and felt around the front.
Under my arms, then she was squeezing my titty in the bra.  Her old bra, it
was black so you could see it through the teeshirt, even when it was dry,
but I just left it off, and we made out.  In my pants, and her bra, but
then we stopped, I put my shirt on, and grabbed my bookbag.  And my jacket,
I just hung it through the strap, and carried it by the other, on the way
home.

   She came with me, because my dad was at work.  After his day off, he
never got 2 in a row, but I got to see her place, her momma gave us a ride,
and permisson for her to sleep over, but that's when I found out why she's
so light skinned.  All the kids are, I didn't ask about it, Simone just
told me.  In the back seat, "My momma likes black men."

   So, she talked about it, driving, how white guys are.  "Assholes," I
think they call it, but mostly privileged, entitled, and a bunch of other
things we didn't have words for back then.  "Black men treat you like a
queen."

   "Mhm?" I was a little distracted, by Simone, feeling my legs through my
pants.  Right behind her, her momma, where shouldn't see, but the bra felt
tight, and I was right.  You don't even have to touch them.  I held my
breath, when she unsnapped my pants, and stuck her hand in there.  Then we
got home, and I had to zip them up quick before we got out.  She just
dropped us off, and went back to fix dinner, but Simone laughed so loud, I
thought the whole neighborhood would hear it.

   I just dropped my bookbag, and jacket by the door, but she grabbed me
from behind.  Kissing my neck, and breathing in my ear, so loud.  It was
exciting, and I was still horny from her molesting me in the car.  Right
behind her mom, and then walking up the driveway with her.  Where my
neighbors could see, but getting away with it, and now this.  Just inside
the door, the only thing between me and the rest of the world, atching me
with my girlfriend.

   That's what I thought, at the time.  Because she told me, "You my
girlfriend." Feeling up under my shirt, and unsnapping my pants.  Groping
me, humping my butt with her hips, and fingering between my lips so fast, I
had my first orgasm.  Right away, half bent over the chair by the door, I
just held my breath, and shuddered.  Felt her fingertip.  Just her pinky,
and just barely pushed inside me.  My hymen, pulling tight with the
orgasmic twitching.

   "Yeah, oh yeah!" All she said, next to my ear, but I just nodded, and
squeezed my eyes shut.  Shaking, and afraid I'd pass out if I didn't
breathe, but I couldn't.  Finally she let me go, and I gasped for air.  It
was the most wonderful feeling, I just turned around, and sat down.  On my
jacket, my bookbag next to me, but I didn't care.  I just sat there, and
felt it, panting silently, until I caught my breath.

   She untyed my shoes first, and took hem off.  Her bra felt so hot, and
tight, I wanted to take it off, but first I pushed off my jeans, and she
pulled them off by the legs.  I looked at the time, dad wouldn't be home
for hours, with dinner, so I decided to make the most of it.

   She didn't just go home to loan me a bra.  She brought he bookbag too,
but we didn't get any homework done.  My grades really started slipping,
from the distraction, but I didn't care.  In my room, she got them out. 
Her toys, a toy dick, like a hard one.  She didn't even know it was called
a dildo, just like the vibrator was a "Massager." Not even one of the dick
shaped ones you can fuck, but I didn't ask where she got them.

   "My momma's." She told me, "I borrow them." She let me borrow the toy
dick, but took the massager with her.  "She'll miss this." She zipped it
back in the bag.  When dad called, to ask what I wanted him to pick up.

   Bojangles, it turns out.  Not in any way racist, I didn't even tell him
she was black, just that I had a friend over, so bring her some too.  He
didn't catch us, fucking eachother, we got dressed before he got home.

   But I thought about it."

   "Woah" I nodded, didn't know what else to say.

   "Sorry for talking your ear off."

   "No, it's okay."

   "Well, it's late.  Good night."

   "Good night."

   I hung up, and just tried to sleep.  Feeling gross, and about as unsexy
as I could possibly remember, but it's hard to believe she was ever shy. 
Ever had trouble talking to people, after all that.  But I'm glad, I feel
like I know her a lot better now.

   ;

   Pretty Woman

   "So," she asked, "How did you get into this, really?"

   "Whoring?" Her talk therapy.

   "You know, it doesn't help if you just lie about it."

   "I know," it just makes me think about what happened.  "Huh!  I started,
babysitting.  Yeah, my dad's got money, but he's a tight wad.  Sves, and
invests it, says it works for him.  So, instead of an allowance, he hooked
me up with one of his friends.  I wouldn't call them poor, but.  Huh! 
Well, they both had to work, and their house wasn't as nice.  Mom thought
it might be good for me, when I got married and had kids of my own, but for
dad it was for experience, working for a living.

   Turns out he was a pervert, of course.  He didn't evn hide them, the
magazines, and I found out later he left them out.  For me to find, added
chores for me to do, while they were down for their naps.  Like Laundry, "I
just left a load in the dryer, for you to put up." Yeah, his underwear, and
socks.  So, I'd find what he kept in his underwear drawer."

   "How old were you?"

   "Ten or eleven?  Huh, he had the usual, convenience store mags.  You
know, penthouse, hustler, OUI?"

   "We." She nodded.  "It's French."

   "Yeah, that, but.  Huh, I got into the Penthouse Forums.  You know,
stories?  They had a few pictures, but naked ladies.  I didn't really care
about that, but all the sick stuff the men, wrote about doing?  Yeah, well
he got more.  Story books, I should say, but Family Touch."

   "Incest."

   "Yeah, and a notebook, too.  He started writing, his fantasies I guess.
About his step daughter, who had the same name?  Yeah, about me,
fantasizing that he married my mom, gave her a sun, and then a baby. 
Junior was about 5, or 6, but.  I know what he was trying to do.  Seduce
me, and it worked.  After a while, I started dreaming about him, my "step
dad," coming home early, and catching me, reading the stories.

   So, huh.  I started writing in them.  His notebook, like a teacher?  In
pencil, but my own fantasies, since I couldn't keep stuff like that at
home. My mom's nosey.  Just found my diary, "Sprucing up," then made me
cean up my room when I got upset about it.  Before I had anything really
dirty in there, but you know.  Confessions about shoplifting, for cheap
thrills with my girlfriends?  Before I started working, but.

   He payed extra.  Ever since that first time, and he made me, play with
his son.  Call him daddy too, and pretend he was my little brother.  He
didn't take pictures, but he'd draw them.  To send into Family Touch with
our submissions.  Letters, they just payed a hundred bucks, if they used
them, but kept the copyrights.  That kinda thing, but then he showed me
Pretty Woman.  When it came out, it wasn't like porn, and he complained
that you didn't even get to see her tits!

   But, he told me that's where the real money is, and he had some friends.
Other men, he showed the pictures he took to.  Me and him, stripping for
him, trying on the underwear he bought me, jerking, and fucking, and
sucking him.  Calling him Daddy.

   Huh!  I guess, my dad.  He wasn't like, as bad.  As your dad, the way
you tell it, but.  Yeah, he totally acted different, when mom wasn't
around. I remember him pissing, with the door open.  He said "Sorry," and
put it away, then washed his hands, but.  I kept catching him, jerking off,
and now that I really think about it.  You know, how you said you didn't,
think about how your dad looked at you, until the boys started, looking at
you like that?  Yeah."

   "Well, doesn't it feel better, getting that off your chest?"

   "Yeah," I grabbed my bookbag.  "Can you hang on a minute?"

   "Sure," she turned off the meter.  I ran up, to get my notebook.  Out of
the hiding place even my mom couldn't find, but the old one.  The first
one, where I wrote the drafts for him.  Tore out the pages, of what really
happened.  I just wanted to get it straight, the truth with all the lies he
told, all the fucked up fantasies, and how he got into acting them out.

   Not the whoring.  Yeah, he watched Pretty Woman with me, or ignored it
and molested me while I watched it, but it is my fantasy.  Still, even
though it's true, I never had a problem kissing johns, but.  "Here," I
passed it through the open window, and she flipped out the butt of her
Salem.  Drove off, but it was just such a relief.  I didn't have to tell
her, any more than that, I just.

   "Huh!" Lean back, and light one of my dad's Winstons.  "Huhhhh!" I can
just let her, read it.

   She loves me, but it's not like.  The real me, sometimes I just feel
like someone's fantasy.  Playing to it all the time, and for once it would
be nice for someone to know the real me.  The real me, and still love me?

   "Yeah," that would be nice, for once.

   ;

   Gabby (FM Pros)

   "Huh?" I slipped my hand out of my bra, and pulled the front of my
blouse over it.  "Snh?" Rolled down the window.

   "Taking a break?" He grinned, but kept walking.  Over to the payphone,
he dropped a couple quarters in, and dialed.  Kept his voice down, cupped
over the receiver, but I already had my underpants down.

   Panties, never really liked them.  Before, when I thought I was a
lesbian, I guess it's expected.  Part of the uniform, gay girls like them.
Boxers, at least the ones that thought I was Butch.  "Huh!" Whatever, I
wasn't even close, but he watched me.  Pull my shirt open, so I popped a
few more snaps.  I hate buttons, but gave him a good look at my bra, and
the hot sweat rose around my neck, and chin.

   Real fucking horney, and he's not cute.  At all, if I had a type.  Well?
The question is, if he's got money.

   "You want a ride?"

   "Yeah."

   I hit the locks, and put the armerst up.  Moved my clip board, and
popped the passenger side door.  The front door, so he could get up front.
Shotgun.

   "You gonna turn on the meter?"

   "Like you said, I'm on break." I hit the sign anyway, so it said he was
a fare.  "Save you some money.  For me."

   "You're."

   "A whore.  On the side, it's more of a hobby, but it aint free."

   "How much?"

   "How much you got?"

   "Uh," he flipped through his wallet, "I got to stop by the bank, or
something."

   "A hundred is everything, but if you just want a beat, and blow, I can
do it for $75."

   "How about $50?"

   "Huh!" High school prices, "All right." Just because I'm so randy. 
"There's an ATM," I pulled over.  Watched him, and checked out his tight
jeans.  Glanced out the mirror to catch passing traffic, but rubbed my
skirt in.  Between my legs, it was dry, but I was dripping, and sticking
together.  An advantage to getting started without them, lube ain't free,
but while I got the rubber out of the center console, I grabbed my vibe,
turned it on, and scooched to tuck it in.

   "Here you go."

   "Where can I drop you.  After," I Pulled out at a break.  "Hmh!"
Blinked, a little to long, but the vibes were starting to work.

   "Garner." I guess he was stranded, but what he wouldn't spend calling a
cab, he would for some hot sex action, with me in my cab.  "Yeah," I took
the loop, and his hand.  Put it on my leg, he slipped the skirt up my thigh
all on his own.  Turned, and felt in the open front of my blouse.  My bra,
my tit, and even got his fingers in the cup.

   "Hmeah!" Just keeping it in the lane, not much traffic, and most of it
passing in the speeding lane.  Paying no attention to the taxi, and the
teenager, feeling me up.  "You a virgin?"

   "No?"

   He lied, "Your friends will never beleive this, but.  Huh!  You can
touch me.  A little higher, ther.  Nhm!  Yeah, there's my clit, just rub
it, with your finger.  Huh!" I took an exit, but pulled over.  There's a
short dirt drive, not to anyone's house, but a chainlink fence.  For the
NCDOT to park their trucks, and signs, and whatever.  I was already feeling
it hard in his lap.  He stopped feeling me, and fumbled it open quick.

   I ment to just get it wet, for the rubber, but as soon as I got it in my
mouth.  "Ngh!"

   "Mh!" Yeah.  I nodded, "Snh!" Closed my eyes, and just felt the wet
splashes.  Tasted the chalky tang of it, and gulped it down as fast as it
shot out.  "Huh!" I sat back, wiped my mouth, and caught my breath.  "Ngh!"
Pulled out the vibe, and turned it off.  "Thanks," tucked the bills in my
bra, and backed out.  "Where in Garner?"

   I gave him our card.  Gabrielle, and Cherish, with our pager numbers. 
"Private partys." Yeah, that's what we do.  Party planning, decorating,
catering.  To redneck fantasies, honestly can't wait to do a bachelour
party.

   "Yeah," It's a living, but finally I found a job that I love.  Just drop
junior off, and then I can imagine a whole room full of drunk guys.  The
groom, followed by the gangbang.

   "This is good," he got out.

   "Yeah," I can park behind the shopping center.  If they need me, they
can page me, but I better get off while I can.

   ;



   ;

   Delante (Anonymus.  If you didn't notice it's my recurring giggalo/pimp
character, named after a friend of mine from Durham.  Is he a 90s racial
stereotype?  Yeh, he was, in the 90s.  A teenage dropout with dreams of
becoming a gangster, because his college prospects didn't look good.  Know
what I'm saying?)

   "Whodis?"

   "You still at Raleigh Gardens?"

   "Yeh."

   "Wanna make some money?"

   "Yeah!  You know that's right!"

   HONK!

   "We'll pick you up."

   "The blue Mercury?" If it was a crown vic, you'd think it be an
undercover, but no government plates, or Christmas tree out back.  Also,
brown ragtop, they never get that for cops, knowhatI'sayin?

   "OohH!" Into my fist, pointing across the parking lot.  "Grand MarKEE!"
Strutted, and threw in a little pimp limp.  It aint like Walnut Terrace,
but I was starting to build juice here.  It's a project, but almost North
Raleigh, it ain't like the ghetto, but at least it aint like I'm getting in
an undercover.

   The driver, from the other knight got out, held the door for me.

   "Uh!?" I looked around.  "You got a car-phone?" She weren't no where
near any payphoes, so she coulda run up so quick, why the horn sounded over
the phone, she called me on the car-phone.

   "Yeah, get in." She scooted over.

   The driver got in, and turned down the radio.

   {Duran Duran - The Chauffeur (Rio) You ever get a song stuck in your
head, for weeks?  Yeah.}

   "Nice ride!" we took off.  "So, what's the bidness?" Don't even matter
to the Hood why I get in this car, money.  They know that's right!

   "Just need to sell something."

   "Wuzzat?"

   "Rock," the driver said, "You carrying?"

   "What?"

   "A gun?  Are you armed?"

   Cheri patted me down.

   "Nah, man.  You say rock?"

   "Cocaine?" she nodded, "Yeah, but the neighborhood we got to go to, we
don't feel safe delivering it." I hear a clip drop.  Slide out the handle,
I don't got guns.  I get guns, and drop them, but if you got one, the cops
can hassle you.

   She slid back the last one, unloaded, she put in an empty one, and
handed it back over the seat.  Still driving, but with the window tint,
you'd have to be loking back through the windshield, all blue sky in broad
daylight like that, and I saw signs for RTP.

   "What 'hood?"

   "It's in Durham."

   "Barretta," 9.  I unlocked the slide, so it won't stuck back, and tucked
it in my belt.  Zipped up my hoody.  Yeh, I know, but if I bust out,
everyone on the block knows somebody just got shot.  Don't want to attract
that kind of attention, know what I'm sayin?  Just being there, in yo face
is enough.  To get control over the situation, if it starts getting out of
hand.  Just point it, and get out.  No need to call the cops busting out
caps.  That's the opposite of getting control over the situation.  Don't
even ask where you get this, don't wanna know.

   "Kripps, so you might want to take off the Bandana."

   "Yeh." I folded it up.  "Where you get Rock from?"

   "You ever read Clockers?" I looked at Cheri.  "Here, you can borrow my
copy, but they got it a Broughton too." School library copy.  "Says it
right in there, how to buy coke, and rock it up, for profit.  We just pick
up the coke in Chapel Hill."

   "I have, a friend in Durham, but it's better if I don't, go in for this
run.  You understand, that's where you come in."

   "Yeh."

   ;

   Chauffeur (Reprise, might as well make it the Cris Corner rendition)

   I'm not sure how romantic it was, but we went out shooting.  At the
range, just to see their jaws drop.  At us, two girls coming in to shoot,
her guns in their cases.  The automatic was her dad's.  Not service pistol,
same model only without the high capacity magazine.  So, the grips aren't
as fat, the police detective's model, I think?

   I tried to avoid firefights, but going out with a crackhead.  Well, she
wasn't always a crackhead, but our relationship wasn't built on the most
solid foundation.  She was surprised to hear from me, but I said that money
was tight, and I know a sure fire way to make a little money into more. 
Flip some coke, I could go right up to her apartment, high rise, not a
penthouse, but they built that project like a high rise building.  About
halfway up, she wasn't there the next week, but you want the floor, and
room number?  No, fuck no.

   You want to play gangster, kid?  Aite, here's your chance.  Called them
from the parking lot, got in back while he ran it up, and turned up the
music.  Bass way down low, nice system, and a late model luxury sedan in
that parking lot with the bass thumping?  If I didn't know any better, I'd
say there was a drug deal going down, but he's not flying blood colors,
hope he doesn't try to run with it, but we know where he lives, now.  Or at
least the building, it wouldn't be hard to call the cops on him.

   Anonymously, of course.  They got Caller ID on 9-11, but that doesn't
work for the Cellular system.  It's not set up for that kind of data. 
Which makes carphones ideal for things like prostitution, and drug dealing.
Like it hasn't happened before, I never had to detail it, and found powder
spilled all over the back seat.  Not going to say what company, either, but
there's a reason why we can't do stuff like that in the marked cabs.  It's
a marked cab, the Towncar just has fleet plates, in another city, and I can
always report it stolen.  Yeah, I'd lose my job, but that's better than
going to jail for drug dealing, and contributing to the delinquency of
minors.

   I kept my eyes out, but she was into it enough to get off.  She was
still gasping for breath when he came back, tossed the bookbag in the
floorboards.

   "You wanna drive?"

   "Huh!  Yeah." She climbed over the front seat, panting, once she had her
undies pulled up.

   Nice ones, helped her pick them out, and try them on, in the changing
room.  Held my breath, and my hand over her mouth, so nobody heard us.

   "Uh!" she popped out the tape {Cassette, old car} put in another. 
{David Lee Roth - Just a Giggalo/I aint got nobody.} I had to laugh.

   "My money." I pulled it out, counted it.  Back into the bag, mixed bills
separated by denomination, rubber banded together in stacks of various
sizes.  Mostly 20s, up to you to get it in the bank without looking
suspicious.  You, you know.  My boss, with the rest of the deposits
tomorrow.

   "Where's mines?"

   "Well," I turned in the seat, "How much were you thinking on making
today, Delante?"

   "My share?" He looked at the money, not my skirt stretched from thigh to
thigh.  My right one up next to the seat, left one down across it utter
lack of underwear.  I didn't take them off, I called in slick.  Sunday
morning, no traffic to speak of until church lets out, and even then,
Research Triangle Park.  Corporate all the way back to Raleigh, all but
deserted.

   Mon Cheri next to me, but now I had a fine young man here, asking for
what he earned.  "You what, took the elevator up, and down?  I bought the
coke, cooked it up, drove it around between My contacts, and you want a
full share?  You, just a runner?" I scoffed.  "Here you go, son.  You want
a blowjob with that?" I rubbed a couple bills in his lap.  "Yeah," tucking
them in his pockets.  Gangster loose, easy to pull off.  "Isn't that what
they say," feeling in his NCSU Wolfpack shorts.  Basketball shorts, with
the tank top, it was the uniform, not that he goes to state.  Old enough,
but "Yeah." Nice long soft cock with the foreskin.  "Oh yeah." I left it
stuck in the top.  "It's 50, right?" I pulled another bill out of the
stack, stuck it in his pocket.  "SHLRP!  Huh!"

   Pimp?  What do you know about Pimpin?  It aint easy?  Well, try being a
whore.  Iver if you're into it, if you Wannabe pimps aint never dodat, then
what the Fuck do you know about pimpin?

   "SPUB!  Yeah!" I rubbed the spit up and down.

   "What is dis?"

   "Sh," I put my finger over his nice big lips.  "I don't pay you to talk.
You want to make another $50.00?" I nodded, he nodded back.  "Good, then
show me what else you can do." Pulling my legs up, "With that mouth of
yours." I lay back, "Huh!" Pulling my skirt out, and picked up the small
book of 50s.  Not a common bill, they tend to pay in 10s, and 20, then skip
right up to 100s.  Like the $2.00 bill.  Yeah, they print them, but people
tend to carry ones, and fives.  "Huh!  Yeah, suck it." I rubbed the back of
his hair.  Down to where it's shaved, I could feel it with my fingertips.
"Suck it real good."

   I'd fuck him, eventually.  There's another hundred in it, he'll be down.
When I'm good and ready.

   Pimp?  "Uh!" My ass.

   ;

   "Hey," (Fm Pros.  TW Pred.)

   "Young man." He got up, and came over to my window.  "Yeah, can you tell
me howta get," I held up my clipboard, read the adress.

   "Well," he tipped up his ballcap, "It's tricky, but."

   "Why don't you get in, and show me?" I unlocked the other side, but it's
an alley.  Behind an alley, yeah you can make deliveries and pickups out
back, but it was closed.  Sunday morning, they'd open up for dinner in a
few hours, but.  "You wanna make some money?" I patted his knee.

   "Yeah!" He didn't even ask what for, but I ran my hand up his Abercromby
and Fisth chinos, and pulled up.  Besides the dumpsters, I'd throw him out
when I'm done with him, but he's already got that my friends'll never
believe in this look on his face.  "Yeah," I felt it in his lap, "Hows
$20.00 sound?" Squeesed it.

   "Nh hn!" He nodded grinning.  Cheap date, $20.00 bj, whoever heard of
such a thing, but I got it out of his bocer breifs, and frowned.  "What?"

   "Huh!" I rolled my eyes, "Well, I guess we already agreed to it," it's
not about sex, "So, here's your twenty." Tucked it in hispocket, but it's
not about size, neither.  For me, of course he's a teenage boy, and country
trendy?  That's right, brass fishook clipped to the bill of his high school
mascot cap, but a polo shirt, and brand name khakis.  In a few years, he
might be able to grow the goatee, but already sporting the ponytail.  "Ml,
glhuH!" Long enough to deep throat.  "Kah!" Pump the slimy spit to get it
wet, I already had my panties down, so I handed him a rubber.

   20 bucks a fuck is dirt cheap, he doesn't know what it's worth.  Sex,
probably a virgin, big enough, "Here," I have to show him how to roll it
on. Flip my skirt over it, but twist it in my hand.  Rub it back and forth
through my gash.

   "Uh,"

   "Sh!" I put my finger over his lips.

   "Miss."

   "I said shut up!" I held his mouth.

   "MH!" His eyes wide, while I fucked him.

   "Yeah!" this is what it's all about, "Fuck neah!" On my own terms, I
fuck him, and pay him what little he deserved.  Ritch prick, "Little dick."
Harder, "Should have checked it, before, huh!  I knew, what I'm bargaining
for."

   It's not enough.  "Huh, fuck!" I pulled out to put my fingers in.  "Feel
my tits, or something.  Quietly, I don't pay you to talk.  Ngh!  More, you
can use 3 fingers.  Huh!  Yeah, deeper, fuck me god damn it.  You weak
wristed dickless little puke, I'm not letting you go till I get what I
payed for.  NGH!" Head bent down by the windshield.  Leaned back against
the dashboard, my knees up on the seat back.  Beside his arms, so he can
reach up.  Between my legs, inside me, and how it must look to him.

   "NGH,HM!" Feel to him.  "Yeah!" Now you know how it feels.  Like a
whore. "Good, little whore.  Huh!" Forced to play someone else's fantasy.
Getting picked up like a girl on the street.  "Huh, get out." I scooched
back over, turned my legs under the steering wheel, and hit the door locks.
He got his pants fixed before he got out.  Ran to find somewhere, to wash
the stink off his hands, maybe get a shower.  "Ngh, huh!" Better get out of
here.  Yeah, maybe he won't be able to tell anyone, cause they'd never
believe them, but that's a fantasy.  You can't depend on it following
script.  "Huh!" He could have found a cop, "Whew!" Blow the smoke out the
window.

   Even if he could say it, tell them that he was just raped in an alley.
There's the prostitution, but I finally did it.

   "Yeah!" That's my kind of rape fantasy.

   He didn't say no, he couldn't say no!  I wish I could find a spot, to
crank out another, but I have to make some money.  It's a front now, but I
have to have some means not to live beyond them.  And besides, it gives me
opportunities like that.

   "Huh!"

   I really should feel guilty.  At some point, right?  Nope?  "I don't."

   Little fucker deserved it.  He wanted it at first, but by the time he
started feeling nervous it was too late.

   "Yeah," I can write it out later.

   They don't have enough stories like this.

   ;

   Giggy D {MFFf Doub Date Hebe Pros Cuck.}

   "Aite." they picked me up, "What kinda car this?"

   "Galaxie 500."

   "Wagon."

   "Yeah, '73."

   Ain't seen a lot of them, but then we pulled up at the school.  Picked
up someone at the faculty parking lot.  The driver got out, and turned off
the radio.  I don't know, white people music.  Nice bassline, kinda bluesy
R&B, but trippin.  The singer sound like he screamin.

   {Clutch (Eponymus) - Space Grass}

   A teacher got in, Buckled up, and started the car.  Not my teacher, I
don't even go to school there no more, but I remember her.  She remember
me, called me "Delante."

   I look back, shotgun, but they just making out in the back seat.

   "Pay attention.  Now, I don't know how many times I told you about
disrupting class," she rubbed my leg, "But if this is going to be a
problem." My dick, "Huh!  Well, I suppose I better do something about it."

   It aint like a limo, but for money?  "Yeh." All right.  I got to ask my
boys that go there, if they ever have her.  Mrs.  Anonymus.  Ain't even
gonna tell you if she white, but being in that school for years?  She aint
even that hot, you'd have to pay me but, "Aite."

   I never seen this, there in the parking lot.  It ain't her car, after 5
years I'da seen it, but.  It ain't a limo, I mean it nice, it aint as long
as a limo, but I found out if you fold up the seats in the back, where it
got a tailgate instead of a trunk, it kinda like a limo back there.  It
just look like, well a old station wagon.  White, it faded beige, two tone
with faded fool boards on the sides, but it fit in.

   The hood, you walk past it parked, with the little curtain pulled in the
back.  Maybe a bunch of Mexicans, it aint busted, but if say we got to roll
deep.  For some reason, the boys in the back just got to drop the tailgate,
and the window fold right up, got 4 doors to pile out, rolling that deep.
They made for kids, so it don't look like nothing out in North Raleigh,
neither.

   She took me home, we startet working together, every week.  Working with
all them teenage boys.  Don't want to get in trouble, risk her job for
that.

   They say pimpin ain't easy, but this?  "Someone's gotta do it." {*} I
aint gotta do nothing, but fuck and count my money.  She aint even spank me
that hard.

   ;

   {* Big Daddy Kane (Feat Nice&Smooth)

   ...F.R.I.S.K.  - "If you go away" (Soul of Indiscretion)...}

   ;

   Cheri' (Thera)

   "Hah!" he came out, so she crawled up to the driver's door, got out, and
got back in front.  He came around the engine, and got in shotgun, so I
climbed over, and folded up the seat back.  At the same time, because
that's how you have to, but I'm getting used to this car.

   "Aite," he rubbed his pants, pulled up for one, and sat down.

   Pulled the door, "Buckle up."

   We could be pulled just before, but she's right, it's exciting.  In the
way-back of a station wagon, backed in front of the garage of a suburban
townhome.  I know, they built them.  A complex of "Townhomes," in a north
Raleigh suburb.  Hey, i just live, work, and go to school here.

   Community college, i can get a GED, and take some business courses. 
Purely elective, but she knows whores, clients, coke, crack, and pot
distributers.  Drove a cab for a few years, in the small state capitol she
grew up, big enough you can't meet everyone, but "Cast a wide enough net."
Don't follow the rules, but.

   "I ain't.  Comfterball wit.  The drugs."

   "Yeah?" She looked over, across the seat.  "What about the
prostitution?"

   "You know Ice T?"

   "Not up on my Gangsta rap, the Fat Boys, Sugar Hill Gang, Public Enemy
was more my gGj'eneration." {Who?}

   "Yeahwell, he did this one, 'I'm yo Pusher'?"

   "Hadn't heard it, I stopped watching MTV when Martha left."

   "Yeah, well, he's talking about music.  Records, here's listen to some
of this.  I ain't no good at music, can't stand them fuckin crackheads, and
I seen drugs.  Well, it wuz horse, but my uncle, his wife, and my fucked up
cousins.  I ain't a blood, yeah I can wear read, but I ain't.  I don't
wanna die like that, man."

   We pulled over.  "Get in the back."

   "Aright."

   "Oh!" I scooted back over, and held him.  "It's all right, you don't
have to live like that no more.  How was your first real job?  Was it all
right, do you have anything to talk about?"

   "She'sick."

   "Mrs.  Cunningham?  No, no, she's fine.  She just needed her fix, is
all. Did she hurt you?"

   "It didn't hurt, she just."

   "Did she hurt your feelings?  She's not really a sadist."

   "She racist."

   "Yeah, but maybe you can tell her about it some time.  Right now, are
you all right?"

   "Yeah, I feel a little better."

   "I know it's hard," I sat back up, and rolled down the window.  "Here,"
got out a pack of Newports, lit one, then another one for me, and handed
him his.  "HuhH!" It blew out, but we're on the Beltline by then.

   "She didn't pay me."

   "Oh yeah, sorry.  They pay up front, here's yours."

   "That's it?"

   "$Two fifty?" I nodded.

   "You don't get more than us, and we got to make money to set this all
up. Get rid of the money so no body gets busted, or arrested."

   "Whyou, was just fuckin in the back!"

   "Yeah, and if we got busted, you don't get busted, and more importantly,
the schoolteacher client doesn't get busted for sex with an underage
prostitute.  You get it?  You didn't have to pay for a single STD test,
because I set it up.  You don't start at the penthouse, playboy."

   "Gabby!  Stop, I got this."

   ;

   {Working on it, but just for the sake of continuity, there's some
characters in common with other stories.  In this folder, though none of
them are quite the prequels Family Secrets" is.
   ;}