Usagi
“Hai?” I didn’t want to answer my phone, my bed and pillow still needed me to rest; but there is so much constant “Sakura Drops” a girl can take before becoming agitated and saying “Fuck it”. I loved Utada Hikaru just as much as the next person, but, Kami, her voice became annoying.
“Usako, you finally answered!”
Mamo-chan! “Mamo-chan, sumimasen!”
“Ah, Usako, you don’t know how good it feels to hear your voice. I missed you.”
“As did I Mamo-chan.” I stopped talking for a moment to glance at my clock that rested upon my night-stand. It read 3:45 PM in bright flashing neon red. I slept for most of the day so I probably need to get up now if I want to be some-what productive. “I am just now waking up.”
“Really?” he sounded surprised. “You’re not overwhelming yourself with school are you?”
More like work actually, but I don’t tell him that. “Nope, I’m doing all my school-work and turning it in on time Mamo-chan.” I felt a slight feeling of satisfaction when I heard him breath a sigh of relief into the speaker. I don’t know how to explain it, but when Mamoru is proud of me, it seems as if I can accomplish anything and everything. He is my support system. My pillar of determination. Without him- I am afraid to say it- I am nothing. “You proud of me?”
“Of course Usako. I am always proud of you. How about we celebrate?”
“Nani?”
He chuckled into the phone and let out a low groan that sounded like he was becoming aroused. He always did love it when I used my Japanese as a teasing tactic to get him to “rise”. It worked every time. It never failed me. “Usako, how about you meet me at my house around six for dinner and some champagne. I’ll even make those fried dumplings you love so much.”
Wow, he must be really proud of me. He never-and I mean NEVER- allows me to drink alcoholic beverages when I am around him. He says that I am too young to get into the habit of liking alcohol and he rather have me drink club soda than any amount of the finest sake. This must be a special occasion. “Champagne?”
“Yes, you deserve it. Although, you get no more than three glasses.”
I knew there would be a catch. “What happened to your rule about me not being able to drink alcohol?”
“I’ll ignore it for tonight. I haven’t seen you in days and I think some alone time with you serves me justice and compensation, don’t you think?”
I giggled and let out a small yawn before removing myself from under my mound of silk comforters. My body still ached a bit and my pussy still felt sore. I bet anything it’s red, bruised and swollen. “Mamo-chan?”
“Hm?”
“Can we dress casual tonight? I don’t think I am up for dressing in a fancy dress.” And it’s the truth too. I can’t stand the feeling of having expensive fabric rub against my skin when it’s already sore and tender. Egyptian threads are nice every now and then, but sometimes, plain polyester and cotton is the way to go. Besides, silk panties won’t do any good for my aching sex right about now. Breathable fabric that allows my raw sex a chance to rest is my best bet at this point. “If you don’t mind, that is.”
“Not all Usako.” He chuckled again, this time holding a bit of bass in its depths. It made certain parts of me come alive and I liked it. “I rather see you look natural than all made up. It feels more unrehearsed that way.”
“Un…rehearsed?”
“Yes. I rather have a spur of the moment type of thing than have some classic erotic Casanova scene replay in my Bedroom.”
“MAMO-CHAN!” He was such a dirty-dirty boy.
Kerry
“Kerry, FASTER, FASTER, PLEASE!”
Only I can stroke this fire within her, no other man capable of ever doing such a miraculous feat such as this one. She screams out in pleasure as if it were her only life-line. She aches that dying needy feeling of completeness that only I can give her. Each orgasm that ripples through her pulsating body is a luxury within itself. She earns each and every thrust I give unto her liberated being with every moan she gives unto me as a reward. I have a plethora of females I can fuck lying around here in arms reach, but-out of them all-I chose her. She’s the only woman of color that I have in my resources and ironically, she is the most stunning and strikingly poetic. She carries confidence and poise with hints of attitude and dignity. She is respectable but yet highly intimidating. She’s my bitch but yet, she’s my woman.
“KERRY!”
A single drop of sweat falls upon her heaving bosoms as I comply with her unspoken command. She wants- no, needs- that prevailing feeling of ecstasy wash over her in a manner like never before. She’s been exposed to adulterous endings, but never one of this caliber. I take her on a journey. I take her mind and body with me. Each stoke is the equivalent to a single stride onto our destination of perpetual bliss. She trails behind me as I lead her closer to that peak of everlasting pleasure, each step taken filled with anxiety and excitement only felt when I am within these walls. That familiar feeling is casting its spell on us with each passing moment. That high never felt before comes closer as oblivion becomes inevitable. Here is where our journey ends; the only solution for a happy ending is to give in to that uncontrollable delight for gratification. She jumps off with me into a waterfall of unexplainable pleasure, cries of marital rapture ringing out within these four walls for all to hear as we reach our high together; coming down slowly with nothing but a bright luminescence clouding our view. Her ragged breaths are the only sounds I hear. They are in symphony with my own.
I feel a small hand becoming placed upon my cheek as the lips of an angel meet my lips. It’s a brief moment but it carries symbolic meaning to the words “Kiss” and “Passion”. I can’t help but return the loving gesture with one of my own, our lips brushing against each other as our tongues fight for absolute dominance. With a small push, I lay her back down on the thin fabric of my-now- tousled sheets, unwrapping her legs from around my waist as my masculine hands pin her dainty feminine ones above her head. She is spent and needs to regain her strength for the day that lies ahead. I give her one last kiss before departing and her coffee-brown eyes glisten slightly before they become encased in darkness. For the first time all evening, I smile. Never had I thought I’d feel this way for a woman. I might-just might- even consider making her mine.
“DADDY!” Loud banging on the door breaks me out of my spell and brings me back into reality. “Daddy, WAKE UP!”
Shit! Can’t even make-love without being interrupted. “Ashjelin shut the fuck up!”
She’s another one of my new whores I got recently. Shipped in from Egypt along with her twin sister. “Come quick, please!”
Her English is broken slightly and her accent is thick. Most men bidding on her virginity love it, others wish to fix it. I, however, don’t give a damn. I just want that payment. “What for!?”
“Anastasia is dying!”
Damn, not the Russian girl. She is one of my top sellers on the market. Men love how dirty she is and how much libido she possesses. For a girl of only thirteen, she has the potential makings of becoming a world-class porn-star.
“Hold on!” I shout back while removing myself from off of Sarah-careful not to disturb her-, retrieving some forgotten articles of clothing. I can’t find my shirt, so I have to make due with grey sweat pants and my socks right about now. It’s nothing these girls haven’t seen anyway. “What is it now?”
I swing open the door to find a bawling Ashjelin in front of my door, hands full of what seems like pure cocaine. Shit! “Where’d you get this!?” I can’t suppress my anger enough to not scare the young nine year old. She flinches slightly and takes too long to answer. I hate being ignored. “ANSWER ME WENCH!” I slapped her a few good times before she fell onto the floor with a loud ‘thud’. Her eyes are flooding with tears but they don’t affect me. None of them do.
“Anastasia.” It was her only reply and I knew then I had another O.D.
Kicking the Egyptian girl aside, I rush past a few of the other girls in order to make my way into the living room where all the action was. There, I was greeted with the sight of my “crew” getting their own piece of the girls. It’s their only source of payment besides the eight grand I give them every week. They immediately stopped when I entered the room. They have learned when to respect the higher authority.
“Where is Anastasia?” My voice sounded cooler than I wanted. “I don’t see her.”
No one answered, but only pointed to a far corner where a limp body laid; white substance and dozens of syringes slew aimlessly around its proximity. I knew it was heroin and cocaine that caused her early death. It sure is a damn shame though. She was a profitable piece of pussy; but hey, I guess what they say is really true. Curiosity really did kill the cat.
A/N: I am back. Sorry for not updating, but I been busy and had severe writer’s block. Hope this chapter was okay. It seemed awkward writing it. Much love to my reviewers and fans. I never expected so many people to read and love this like they did. Much love.
Peace and Blessings,
Princesslady