The Mike Black Saga Volume 3

by Roy Glenn

  “So am I,” I mumbled, taking her response and attitude to mean she wasn’t one of the chosen ones. I had heard the talk around the club. The party was being held for The One. He was the hottest rapper in the city and word was, when he and his entourage came to the club, it was at least an easy grand for even the average dancer. That told me my goal should be three times that amount. Now, all I had to do was find a way to get invited to the party, but Bruce Bruce was nowhere to be found.

  As I was heading out the back door, a powerful hand clutched my shoulder.

  “Miss Kitty, I was looking for you. I want you at One’s party tomorrow night. Think you can handle it? It’s a lot of money to be made,” Bruce Bruce warned.

  “I’ll be here purring,” I promised.

  4

  The next night sheer electricity lingered in the air at the club. This so-called private party wasn’t private at all. There were fifteen other dancers besides myself and at least thirty members of The One’s entourage, and a bunch of the club’s regulars that were friendly with Bruce Bruce.

  When I hit the floor, Bruce Bruce was sitting at a table in the corner with two guys, but it was the one in the black that caught my eye. I was just about to make my way over there when I was surrounded by three men. “Miss Kitty!” one of them screamed and they all started dropping money at my feet. Without taking my eyes off the man in black, I took off my outfit and went to work.

  “Watch this,” another one said. “You ain’t never seen nothing like this before, dog.”

  I was so into it that a circle formed around me and before long, they were chanting my name. “Miss Kitty! Miss Kitty! Miss Kitty!”

  There were so many of them that they blocked my view of the guy. When the song ended, I picked up my money and went back to the dressing room.

  When I returned to the floor, I looked around the club for the man in the black, but I didn’t see him. I was startled when a deep and sexy voice said, “Miss Kitty, right?”

  I spun around; it was the guy and he looked even better up close. He had the most piercing eyes. “That’s me.”

  “I enjoyed watching you dance,” he said.

  “Thanks. You a friend of Bruce Bruce?” I asked.

  “I guess you could say that.”

  “I haven’t seen you here before,” I said and stepped closer. “So, I guess you’re part of The One’s entourage.”

  He flashed a smile and I got wet. “Not exactly. I own the company that manages The One.”

  “Oh really,” I said, knowing that this was somebody I needed to know.

  “You ready to go, Black?” the other guy he was with said.

  “Yeah, in a minute, Freeze,” he said and turned to me.

  “Miss Kitty, it was a pleasure meeting you. Maybe I’ll see you again.”

  “Jada.”

  “Excuse me.”

  “Jada. My name is Jada.”

  “Okay, Jada it is then. Maybe I’ll come back to see you. Bruce Bruce speaks very highly of you. I’d be interested to see why,” he said and started to walk away.

  Since he’d already seen me dance I assumed that he meant something else. The way he looked; the way that sexy voice rang in my ear, I was ready to forget about making this money and go anywhere he wanted. I grabbed his arm. “What’s your name?” I had to know.

  “Mike Black.”

  And just like that he was gone.

  I kept looking toward the VIP room where the real money was. I knew it was time for Miss Kitty to take the stage. I looked around at the tired ass dancers who didn’t make it into the VIP room and knew I’d have the room chanting my name again, soon enough.

  When I got onstage, I went into my act. I was gyrating my hips and did a split. When I eased out of it was when I noticed him.

  The One himself.

  He was walking out of the men’s room flanked by two men. When his eyes caught mine, I took my nipple between my teeth and bounced up and down, allowing the tassels on my crotch to touch the floor. He stopped cold in his tracks.

  Bills started raining down on me. When I twirled around on my ass and brought my thighs up and did a split in midair, I heard them yelling.

  “Goddamn, girl!” someone cried.

  “Work that shit!” another one said.

  I danced like there might not be a tomorrow and at every turn, his eyes were on me. Before it was over, he was at the edge of the stage, his bodyguard’s right at his side.

  When I crawled to him, he plucked five crisp one hundred-dollar bills from his wad and held them out for me. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “You come to VIP with me and my boy Bullet here.”

  I allowed him to put the bills into my thong then shook my head. “Nah, baby, I’ve got work to do,” I said and shook my hips and wiggled away from him. When I finished my set, he was still standing there, staring at my every move. The One went back in the VIP room while I was picking up my money. I cursed myself for not jumping at his offer. I was doing all right controlling the floor, but I knew that The One was in there with a select group, and that’s where I belonged.

  With the real money!

  Later that night, I walked out of the dressing room and bumped right into The One’s bodyguard. He was massive; a six feet four-inch tower who looked down at me and said, “The One wants you in the VIP.”

  “And what are you, his mouthpiece?” I asked.

  “He told me to bring you,” he confirmed.

  Since that’s where I wanted to be anyway, I followed Bullet to the VIP room without another word passing between us. When I walked through the door, Crème and the other dancers that were in there, rolled their eyes at me and continued what they were doing. They knew what my presence in the room meant. And when Bullet walked me over to The One and he pulled me onto his lap, you would have thought I’d slapped their mothers.

  “You a bad muthafucka, you know that?”

  “Thank you,” I purred modestly.

  “I was watching you move on the stage.”

  “I know, and thank you for the tips,” I said and ran my hand across his chest. “Do you want me to dance for you?”

  “I wanna fuck you,” he demanded more than asked.

  I was shocked, but at the same time, not at all surprised at his directness. “It’ll cost you,” I said.

  “You ain’t said shit to me, mommy,” he said, sucking his grill. “Why don’t I double what you usually charge? I always gets what I want.”

  I looked at him, studying him.

  The One was fine as hell, but since I wasn’t planning on fucking him or anybody else in there, I decided to get ridiculous. “Two grand,” I said quickly; thinking that his reaction would be the same as everybody else’s. I thought that he would say I was crazy and have Bullet drag me outta there.

  “Why don’t we make it three,” he said with ease.

  My eyes lit up. He can’t be serious, I thought. He just couldn’t be. When he started ripping bills from the most massive wad of cash I’d ever seen, I knew The One was no joke. At that moment, I had to make a choice. Three grand just to fuck him? I thought about all the shit I talked to the other dancers about doing exactly what I was thinking about doing. I’d taken pride in the fact that I wasn’t that kind of woman. They were letting those drunk-ass niggas have them cheap. I wasn’t going out like that. I was a dancer; an entertainer, not a ho.

  “So, what’s it gonna be, mommy?”

  Three grand. I nodded my head slowly and began eating my words.

  “Get your shit then, we outta here,” The One said and nodded at Bullet.

  He stood up and escorted me to the dressing room and waited outside like a sentry while I got dressed. I thought I could still change my mind and tell Bullet to tell The One, thanks, but no thanks, Miss Kitty don’t roll like that, but then I took a swallow of Henny and knew that wasn’t gonna happen.

  As I got ready to walk out, Crème burst through the door. “Where you going?” But before I could answer she said, “You a
in’t slick, bitch. I saw Bullet’s big ass standing outside the door.” She leaned close to me and whispered, “You gonna fuck The One?”

  “For three grand,” I whispered back.

  Crème didn’t say a word. She just held up her hand for a high five and I was on my way.

  We took his Hummer limo to his hotel, where he took me up to a plush suite. I swear I felt just like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.

  He ushered me into the room while he stood in the hallway talking with Bullet and some of the other members of his entourage. I eased into the bedroom and prepared myself for his arrival.

  Knowing how guys like to talk and brag about their conquests, I knew I’d have some time. I had never done anything like this before and I never thought that I would find myself in a situation like this. To this point, all of my sexual experiences have been with only three guys. Two of them, Edward and Thomas, were boyfriends, and this guy named Roy.

  I met him a couple of years ago and we’d been fucking ever since. We don’t have a relationship; I mean we don’t go anywhere or do anything; he just comes by when I call him, and he takes care of my needs.

  The whole idea of doing it for money was completely foreign to me, not to mention, something that I had promised myself that I would never do. But when he said he would pay me three thousand dollars just to have sex with him, I couldn’t refuse.

  I was determined to make sure he knew that I’d definitely be worth his cash. I selected a little black lacy number and positioned myself on the bed, but I knew that I wouldn’t be there for long. The moment he walked through the bedroom door I was all over The One.

  “Damn, girl, you vicious, huh?”

  “You just don’t even understand just how vicious I am; but you will, I promise you that.” I had his clothes off in no time and was ready to rock his world.

  The One laid out on the bed. “Come here,” he demanded, and I quickly complied.

  He was very well endowed, and I didn’t hesitate to climb on for the ride. I put my hands on his chest, grabbed hold of his dick, and slid down on him. “You like Miss Kitty?”

  He was so deep inside me I swear he was poking my womb. The One was that and then some … massive, thick and long.

  “Shit! Take this dick, bitch. You want it, take it,” he encouraged. And I was definitely trying to take it all. I leaned forward, placing my weight on my arms and pounded him. “That’s right, bitch! Throw the fat, juicy pussy, bitch!”

  I wasn’t real happy about him calling me a bitch, but he was paying well for the privilege, so he could call me whatever he wanted to. I rotated my hips, grinding my pelvic area onto him until I was certain he couldn’t go any deeper. “Damn, bitch!” he yelled. “Get that dick!”

  I leaned forward allowing my nipples to graze his face. He tried to shove both of them in his mouth. “Yeah, you know what I want. Do that shit.”

  I pumped harder.

  I could see “the look” come over his face. “Oh shit!” he cried out.

  I pumped harder.

  “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 pumping that big dick like there was no tomorrow. I felt him expand and explode inside me. I wasn’t even close to cumming. 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 doing 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 dreams. And my dreams were pretty wild.

  5

  Two weeks after we met in the elevator in those wee morning hours, I sat across from Sasha at the trendy and upscale Marea on Central Park South.

  “I could tell when I first saw you that you weren’t in the business,” she said.

  I let out a little giggle. “Was I that obvious?”

  “Yes,” Sasha reluctantly admitted. “But I knew that you needed to be.”

  “It was my first time,” I hesitantly admitted.

  “What did you do?” Sasha smiled. “I mean, before your ‘first time’.”

  “I dance at a club called Ecstasy.”

  “Everybody got to start somewhere.” Once we ordered our meal, Sasha got down to business. “So, like I told you over the phone, what I do can be very lucrative. It’s just a matter of knowing how to handle yourself in every situation.”

  Sasha offered to let me work under her until I felt comfortable going out on my own. Sasha was very big on independence, and I liked that about her. She had convinced me it was best that way. Under Sasha’s tutelage I learned how to walk and talk, like a lady. There were days when I felt like I was Eliza Doolittle and Sasha was Henry Higgins in My Fair Lady.

  Sasha and I had spent weeks “fixing” my wardrobe. “I don’t mean to criticize, but what you wear is too … too ghetto for what we do, honey,” Sasha criticized as she went through my closet. “This stuff may be all right for the club, but the look you’re going for is elegant and classy.”

  I already had compiled a stash of sexy lingerie, so that wasn’t going to be an issue. But I swear; the woman had a line of credit at all of the most exclusive boutiques. For a while after I hooked up with Sasha, I still danced at the club, so I had money to reinvent myself.

  Once Sasha felt that I was ready to be seen in public with her, she encouraged me to quit dancing, so she could introduce me to the world. We went to executive networking events, exclusive VIP mixers, and just about every high-rollers private party there was. It amazed me to see just how many people she knew.