“Damn, I’m about to bust.”
It had been a long time since I had any dick, and even longer since I had one this big and I wanted to make it last. But when I tried to move he grabbed my hips, pulled me closer and started pumpin’ that big dick like there was no tomorrow. I felt him expand and explode inside me. I wasn’t even close to cummin’. He had been beating up my walls, but he hadn’t quite hit my spot. But for three grand, I felt like we could go several more rounds at least.
The One, the only name I got from him, released a gut-wrenching grunt and suddenly shoved me off his body. “Watch out, I gotta piss,” he said. I wanted to protest, remind him that I hadn’t gotten my fill, but the thought of the three grand made me think better of it.
When he didn’t come back to bed right away, I thought about checking on him, and then decided against that too. Finally, he stumbled out of the bathroom, wearing a pair of boxers and a massive platinum iced-out chain.
“Yo, look, you was tight and shit, but I’ma have Bullet take you down to the lobby.”
That caught me completely off guard. “Um. .” I said, once again stunned by his directness. But I wasn’t about to say anything. “Um, sure, I can see myself out.”
“Whatever. He’s gonna take care of you. Cool?”
“That’s cool.”
The One went back in the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
Whatever. I shrugged my shoulders and got out of the bed. While I got dressed, I wondered if maybe he was a little embarrassed because I’d made him cum so quickly.
Bullet was standing by in the hall. He counted off three thousand dollars and handed it to me. I quickly shoved it in my bag and gave him a half-ass salute letting him know I could handle it.
“Later,” he said, then turned and stumbled down the hall.
As I made my way to the elevator, I felt used. Probably because I had been used. I don’t know what I was expecting to happen in there, but it wasn’t to get humped, dumped, and asked to leave. I stepped onto the elevator smiling inside at the grip I’d made in less than five minutes, and I wondered who really used who. I began to think about how easy that actually was, as opposed to what I was doing dancing at the club. If I busted my ass and hustled all night, I mean really went cutthroat, I could make a grand, maybe more on a good night. But I made three times that amount and barely broke a sweat.
When the elevator stopped on the twenty-sixth floor, I wondered who the hell was going somewhere at six-thirty in the morning. The doors opened and a curvy white woman stepped into the elevator. Her hair looked a little rustled and her makeup was smeared a bit, but she still looked classy.
“How are you?” she asked, like she was simply being polite and didn’t really care that it was two minutes before dawn.
“Oh, I’m good”-I yawned-“and you?”
“You sound a bit tired like me,” she flashed a fabulous smile and yawned herself. “Those are very contagious, you know,” she yawned again. “My name is Sasha,” she extended her hand. “Sasha Deverox.”
I shook her hand. “Jada West.”
She tossed me a knowing look then snickered. “Are you here doin’ what I think you’re doing?”
“It depends,” I said, really curious about what she meant.
She looked around as if we weren’t alone on the elevator. Then she leaned in toward me. “I mean who do you work for? Which service?” Sasha wanted to know.
I was really confused, but I needed to know just what Sasha was talking about. She was iced from her ears to her chest and her fingers. I noticed a thick diamond tennis bracelet dangling from her arm when we shook hands.
“Why? Do I look like someone you know?” I asked stalling, hoping for more information.
“Yeah, as a matter of fact, you do. But I know she got out of the business a while back. That’s a shame too, ’cause she used to make serious money. She’s the one who encouraged me to go out on my own,” Sasha confirmed.
My interest was very piqued at this point. She didn’t look like a dancer; she had this air of elegance about her that told me she was clocking some serious dough, and if she was shaking her ass to earn it, she was doing some type of private shit.
“Well, how’s it been on your own?” I asked, still fishing.
“It was rough at first, but once I built up my clientele, it’s been paradise ever since.” She smiled again.
“Your clientele, huh?”
“Best part is I don’t have to worry about splitting my fees. Of course, I don’t tell the client I’m an independent contractor. It seems like they just feel better thinking you’re part of a service; you know, a real escort service,” Sasha said easily.
My mouth dropped but in my mind, I knew Sasha was somebody I needed to get to know better. I looked at Sasha, the way she was dressed, the way she carried herself, and I knew this was a much better hustle than stripping. I would make it my business to find out all I could about the escort business. Sasha didn’t know it, but she was about to take me to the next level, and hopefully to riches beyond my wildest dream. And my dreams were pretty wild.