Noire - G-Spot

I cried inside. All the moisture that had been soaking my panties suddenly dried up and I laid back on the silk sheets, not knowing what else to do.

“That’s right,” G said. He pressed a button near the headboard and the lights went dark. “Just lay back and let Daddy get a little bit of this and everything will be everything.”

And all he got was a little bit, too. He squeezed my right breast twice and then pinched my nipple so hard I wanted to scream. Then he climbed on top of me and pushed my legs apart. “This is gonna hurt some, Juicy. But I promise to go slow, okay?”

I tried to stop the tears that were coming out my eyes. This was not how I had imagined my first time going. Yes, he had gotten the dinner and the roses right, but why did he hit me? What about the foreplay? And what did he mean don’t worry about him putting his mouth on me? I wanted my pussy licked! I had waited a long time to do the things I’d read about in magazines and seen in movies, and now he wouldn’t do them to me?

G went easy on me like he said. He pushed into me real slow, whispering in my ear until I almost forgot the stinging on my cheek and the mean words he’d said. I put my hands on his ass and pulled him into me. It hurt real bad when he broke my cherry, but a moment later the head was in and then nine more thick inches slid in behind it.

“Oh yeah.” He moved on top of me. “You just as juicy as your name. This some good pussy, baby.” Ten seconds later he shook a little bit and it was all over. I was still moving my hips as he breathed above me. His dick was getting soft and I worked my ass faster, feeling the beginnings of my very first sex-induced orgasm.

My eyes were closed and I was almost there when he rose up on his arms and hollered real loud, “Girl, what the hell you think you doing?”

I opened my eyes and again he was staring at me like I was some freak. “You fucking with me or something, Juicy?” he said. He pulled his soft dick out. “What? You can’t tell when the shit is over, or I just don’t keep it going long enough for you? You need more than what I’m giving you or something? What you doing, girl?”

The good feeling between my legs disappeared. I was laying in a cold wet puddle and it really confused me. G had been really good to me and I thought I loved him. But I now understood my situation like it was written out on the wall. This was what sex would always be like with Granite McKay. There was no escaping it neither because he had declared me to be his, and so I was. Leaving him was out of the question because it would put his rep on the line. Plus, me and my baby brother needed what G was putting out, so I had to do what I had to do. I was in deep with no way out.

G was still staring at me. “I said, what you think you doing, Juicy?”

“Nothing, G,” I answered him, and took my hands off his ass. I put them at my sides. “I’m not doing anything.”

The DJ changed the music and the naked girls cleared the stage. They almost had to drag this skank named Monique off, she was so busy shaking her big ass and playing with those three nipples she had. A sexy beat picked up and the lights went down low. “Here they come!” Brittany started clapping her hands along with the other women in the house.

This was the best part of my week. I prepared for my normal routine by leaning back into the booth and crossing my legs, squeezing them together as the first man appeared on stage. He was a black god. His skin was dark and every muscle on his body was bulging. And so was his dick inside those skimpy red bottoms he wore. I swung my crossed leg to the beat of the music as I watched him. Already I was turned on. Each time I pumped my leg a jolt of pleasure screamed in my clit. Brittany was still running her mouth and going on about how fine he was. I wished she would shut up and let me concentrate. A minute later he was joined on the stage by three other men, all of them with beautiful bodies that they knew how to move. I kept my eyes on the first guy. He moved the best and seemed to be looking right at me although I knew he couldn’t see me in the darkness.

“Ahh… shit! I like the way you work it!” Brittany was digging his rhythm as much as I was. “Be right back,” she said. She went searching in her purse, then she ran up to the stage and grabbed dancer number one. She was on her knees as he grinded in her face, and she screamed and stuck some money down in his shorts.

I leaned back all the way in the booth and let my fingers tickle my nipples. I had on pants but I opened my legs and slid my zipper down and quickly stuck two fingers inside my panties. I kept my eye on Brittany as she danced with the guy onstage and let him rub all over her body. I imagined it was me up there, sweating under the lights and getting stroked by those strong hands, hard dick being pushed all up in my face. I could feel his hardness on my lips and smell him, too. A moment later I closed my eyes and my hand moved faster as I hit the rocks and waves washed over me. I caught my breath and zipped my pants as the heat seeped out my body.

And then the shame hit me. I was tired of masturbating on the sneak tip, but it was all I could do. Living with G I had to learn to get my orgasms quick and quiet. I did it mostly in the shower or laying next to him while he slept, but there were times when I couldn’t help myself. I found out that I also liked to get off in public. There was something about the risk of getting caught that really turned me on. I liked to cross my legs on the subway and fantasize about the men as the train rocked me back and forth.

One time I was standing up on a crowded train from 125th Street downtown to 34th Street. The lights were flickering on and off and I realized the guy behind me was riding my ass. I didn’t even turn around to see who it was. I had on a short denim skirt and I just gave that ass up to him. I pushed back and worked my hips and let him rub his dick up and down my crack. He put his hands under my skirt and stuck his fingers past my thong. He held on to my hip with one hand and fingered me with the other until I came right there in the middle of the crowd. Part of me wanted him to take his dick out and stick it under my skirt, too.

When I realized what that meant I jumped off the train at the next stop, even though I still had three more stops to go. I was scared the guy was following me but I didn’t want to look back and see his face. I felt guilty and dirty for weeks after that, and I vowed not to even think about another man touching me. For a long time I didn’t even touch myself. I thought about my mother and wondered if I was turning into her, but I told myself I wasn’t a ho. I was just frustrated because I needed to be satisfied and G wouldn’t do it.

I picked up my purse and Brittany ’s, too, and went into the ladies room to wash my hands. When I looked into the mirror I saw a little girl they called Juicy-Mo staring back at me and she looked sad as hell.

I was born and raised in the heart of Harlem, but the way G dressed me and kept me looking people thought I was big money from the suburbs somewhere. G hired a professional stylist to do my hair once a week and another girl to do my nails. I got a massage twice a week at the G-Spot from Ursula, a blond girl G had turned out when he was vacationing in Sweden.

Ursula was really nice, but I got the impression she wanted to do a lot more than just massage my muscles. As soft music played over the speakers, I would lay on my stomach with my eyes closed as she worked her hands down my back to my lower spine. But she wouldn’t stop there. She loved to massage my ass, kneading my buns like dough as she stroked my cheeks with both hands. I hate to admit it but I loved the way it felt. So erotic and sexy. G never touched me like that.