Dirty Little Angel

Bobby had never been so hard. He wanted to fuck Chaos with a passion, but he didn’t want to come out of the pocket with that $150 she charged for pussy.

Crown watched the show for a short moment, admiring how his bitch took control of a trick like he taught her. He knew it would be a matter of time before Bobby made Crown’s pockets a bit richer.

“Nigga, go ahead and get you some fuckin’ pussy.” It was more of a command than a suggestion. “Stop fuckin’ teasing yourself, Bobby. How much you got on you?”

Crown knew that Bobby was intimidated by him, so he used that to his advantage.

Bobby glanced up at Crown and meekly replied, “Crown, I’m just here to observe. I mean, next time . . .”

“Nigga, fuck next time,” Crown exclaimed.

“Nigga, you scared of pussy?” Cherish smirked.

“How much you got?” Crown asked again.

“Crown, I mean . . . I ain’t got much,” Bobby said.

“Nigga, how much you got?”

Bobby knew he was being bullied by Crown for his cash. It wasn’t the first time that it happened and it wouldn’t be the last. The other patrons in the bar minded their own business; they knew not to get into Crown’s business.

“Look, Bobby, either you pay to fuck Chaos or I’m just gonna just straight take it from you,” Crown threatened. “I see how you look at her. You know the pussy is good, so go do what you do and don’t take too fuckin’ long.”

“Crown, I would, but I got bills to pay. I can’t spend that loot tonight,” Bobby tried to reason.

“Then what the fuck you doin’ in the club then, touching my fuckin’ woman like you ready to fuck? You came to have a good time, right? Then go and have yourself a good time, nigga!” Crown glared at Bobby.

Bobby knew that there was no talking his way out of it. Yes, he so badly wanted to fuck Chaos, but the $300 in his pocket needed to last him until next week. It was money for food, car insurance, and gas money, and without it, he would be fucked until his next paycheck.

Chaos stepped off stage, still nude and grabbed Bobby’s hand affectionately. “C’mon Bobby. I’ll make it worth your time.”

His dick was saying yes, but he knew it was going to hurt his pockets. He also knew it wouldn’t be good to go against Crown. Bobby was 5’7”, stumpy, and the only street rep he had was getting pulled over for speeding a few months back. He was no match for Crown or the goons that ran the streets under him.

“Nigga, you got a job, so you’ll make the money back. I’m doin’ you a favor. Go fuck that bitch before I get mad and just end up takin’ your shit anyway—and you won’t even see the pussy.” Crown snarled.

Bobby reached into his wallet and passed Crown $150.

“Nah, Chaos is worth two hundred,” Crown said.

“Two?” Bobby was confused.

“Yeah, muthafucka. Two.”

Reluctantly, Bobby passed Crown another $50 and followed Chaos into a back room that was sectioned off from the rest of the club.

Crown watched Bobby leave with Chaos. “Stupid muthafucka! Think he could just put his greasy hands all over my bitch, and I ain’t gonna have that nigga come out of his pocket? Shit, I’m gonna get my money.”

“Crown, why you do that to Bobby? He’s cool peoples,” Midnight asked.

“Bitch, did I tell you to fuckin’ speak?” Crown snapped at Midnight.

Midnight turned her eyes away quickly, regretting that she opened her mouth.

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth, then!”

Crown downed a shot of Patrón and talked to a few associates at the bar. He was waiting for Chaos to finish fucking Bobby.

Bobby was saddened by the loss of $200, but staring at a butt-naked Chaos, who looked like the poster child for Black Tail magazine, made him suddenly think that it was worth it. The VIP room was small but comfortable and was only decorated with a torn two-seater leather couch and barren walls. The room reeked of sex from previous customers, and a few open condom wrappers were lying around the wastebasket.