Chapter 1
Mona woke up slowly, stretching out her lean, supple, chocolate skinned arms. She lifted her head off the satin-covered pillow and craned her neck to glance at the clock sitting over the headboard of her large double bed.
"Damn," she thought, "I'm sure as hell getting to be an early riser! Only one o' clock, and I'm awake and ready to go."
She gripped the hem of the satin sheet and tossed it off her nightgown covered form. She stretched out her long, sensuous limbs, sliding her hands under her buttocks and raising her legs high off the surface of the bed.
The simple exercise sent the blood racing fast through her sexy, chocolate colored body. She swung her legs around, then jumped off the bed.
"I feel good today," she thought, stretching out her lean, graceful arms. The short nightgown she was wearing rode up over her pelt of wiry curls of pussy hairs. She dropped her arms and the nightgown slipped down, covering only a tiny portion of her sexy, brown thighs.
"Time to get to work," she thought with a laugh. She stepped out of the bedroom and walked into the plushly-carpeted living room. She stood silently in the center of the lavishly decorated room, gazing around and listening for the usual sounds of an afternoon at Style's residence.
"Looks like there's nobody here but me," she thought with a satisfied smile. The other girls in Style's stable had their regular hours when they could go out and shop. But Mona, as Style's woman, had as much freedom as a suburban housewife. She could almost come and go when she wanted, except for the times Styles had her trick for a special, meaning very wealthy, client. Work for her meant keeping her sensuous, man-killing beauty intact.
She stepped over to a night table and pulled open the gold-handled top drawer. A small, ivory-inlayed box lay on the bottom of the drawer. Mona opened the box and pulled out a marijuana cigarette.
"Oh, this is going to be a good day," she thought, sniffing the neatlywrapped joint. Her nose told her that the quality was up to the usual standards Styles set for his drugs. She stuck the joint in between her lush, thick, red lips and lit up, taking a slow, deep drag.
Holding the joint in her brown-skinned hand, she stepped into the almost ridiculously lavish bathroom. She dragged twice more on the joint. Feeling the marijuana creep into her body, she carefully .extinguished the joint and laid it out on top of the gilt-edged medicine chest. She pulled aside the glass door in front of the massive bathtub Styles had had installed and stepped down into the clean, white surface of the tub.
"Ooops," she thought with a laugh. The marijuana was affecting her strongly. She pulled off the nightgown and stepped back out of the tub, hanging the short, transparent garment carefully on a nearby towel rack.
"Styles would sure be upset if I ruined his favorite undie," she thought with a giggle.
Naked, she stepped back into the tub and turned on the ornately-handled faucets. The water came roaring into the tub, making small, white-foamed whirlpools around her bare feet. She sat down, pressing her brown, bare ass to the smooth, enameled surface as the water slowly began to rise.
She bent over and clutched at a plastic bottle filled with imported bubble bath soap, squirting a liberal amount of the pink-colored liquid into the several inches of water covering the bottom of the tub.
Soon the tub was filled with the bubble-covered water. Only her beautiful face and shoulders were visible above the bubbly foam rising pinkly around her. She leaned back, propping herself up on her forearms, bending her head upwards to keep her face above the surface of the bathwater.
Slowly and sensuously, she rubbed her naked, chocolate brown flesh with lazy fingers. Her nipples grew long and hard, the two black points sticking straight out from her brown breasts. She clamped her hands over her breasts, and rubbed the nipples hard between her thumbs and forefingers. She ground her buttocks into the wet, slippery bottom of the tub, a sharp pang of passion shooting through her black-haired cunt.
"Too bad nobody's around," she thought, her lusts rising steadily. If she felt horny and Styles wasn't able to accommodate her, any of the girls would jump into bed with her immediately.
She slid her hands slowly down the lean, hard plane of her stomach, then pushed her fingers roughly into the wiry, black curls of hair covering her beautiful pussy.
"Melody!" she thought, an image of the young whore's naked body flashing through her lusting mind. Her fingers slid down to the pink meat of her cunt lips, then into her wet, soapy cunthole. Her lusts were boiling up in her now, and she could almost taste the girl's pussy meat.
"And, oh, you, Styles!" she thought, jerking her passionate fingers rapidly in and out of her quivering snatch. The thought of his thick, eleven-inch erection made lust explode like a skyrocket in her brain.
Bathwater splashed up over her face. She sat up quickly, shaking her head from side to side and coughing the water out of her mouth.
"Better watch what I'm doing-be a shame to blow all this by drowning in the bathtub!"
She relaxed in the bath for perhaps half an hour. She rose, water dripping down her sleek nudity, and stepped out of the tub. She picked up the joint she had placed on top of the medicine cabinet and re-lit it, then reached for a large towel.
"God, have I got the hots today," she thought. Her body tingled at the feel of the towel rubbing against her naked flesh. She dried herself thoroughly, then reached for the nightgown. She sniffed carefully around the hem of the garment's armholes. She detected the tiniest trace of sweat, and tossed the garment into a hamper.
"Ah-ah," she thought, "Clean is the rule!"
She walked out of the bathroom completely naked and stepped back into her bedroom, the joint dangling loosely from her full, red lips. She selected a silk, oriental-looking robe from her very extensive wardrobe and draped the cool, slippery garment over her naked back. She walked back into the living room, the robe open and exposing her naked cunt. She sat back on the luxurious couch, stretched out her lean, naked limbs and pressed her shoulder blades into the luxurious backrest of the skin-covered couch.
"Wonder what Styles has planned for me tonight," she thought. The heavy euphoria the marijuana brought her faded a little as she thought of the work ahead. Although Styles sometimes had the girls work the streets, he usually tried to arrange their tricks over the phone. He could never get over his dirt-poor, ghetto background. And in spite of his often-stated hatred for what he called the 'white man's world', he tried to emulate the wealthy in every possible way.
Mona was his prized acquisition. She had come from a relatively respectable, upper-middle class background. Her education and manner of speech contrasted sharply with those of the other girls in his stable. A combination of the beauty of a professional model and a quick sexual intelligence made her the perfect whore.
She heard a soft click and quickly pulled the robe so that her body was covered. She sat straight up on the couch, in a model's posture. Styles was fussy about the way the girls looked around the 'house'. He was afraid that a half-naked woman sitting in his living room would blow his urbane, sophisticated image if he should come home with a 'special guest'.
"Well, hi, baby," a soft, smooth voice called out. Mona turned her head around slowly and saw Styles walk into the room.
"Hello, lover," she cooed back, stretching out her long, lean limbs. Styles was alone. She slid her buttocks up the fur-covered surface of the couch, letting the hem of the silk robe she wore ride up and expose her lean, black thighs.
"How's my best girl," Styles said, his voice a sexual purr.
"How's my man," she replied, staring at his angular, light-brown face with seductive eyes.
"Had a rough day," said Styles, sitting down next to her on the couch.
"Oh, baby," said Mona, stroking the back of his neck with gentle fingers. "What's wrong?"
"Just business stuff, honey," said Styles. Mona knew what he meant. Another pimp was working the areas he regarded as his own personal territory, cutting sharply into the nightly take the girls would bring him. She used her education to help him with some of the dull, routine tasks of maintaining his 'business'; but competition was something that Styles and the heavies he sometimes employed had nothing to do with her.
"Well, just you tell Mona all about it," she cooed, sliding sideways so that her bare thigh was pressed tightly against the fabric of his expensive slacks. The movement made the hem of her robe part, exposing her pelt of wiry black pussy hairs.
Styles glanced down at her exposed cunt, saw that the lips had swollen. He stared into her dark-brown eyes and saw her boiling lusts.
"Baby needs a little servicing," he thought, his lusts rising automatically He stood up and stepped away from the couch. Mona stared at him with lust as he pulled off his suit jacket and draped it over the back of the couch. She saw a huge bulge appearing in the fabric of his slacks.
Styles stepped back to the couch and stood directly in front of her. She slid down to the floor. Kneeling, she reached up and unbuckled his belt. Styles reached his lean, hardened arms down and softly stroked the short black hairs covering her beautiful head.
"Got something really special," he murmured, as she unbuttoned the tops of his slacks and gently unzipped his fly.
"Tell me about it in a minute, daddy," she cooed, pulling the pants down his firm, black legs.
The bulge appeared unbelievably massive under the fabric of the pimp's silk underpants. She slid her slender, brown fingers under the waistband of his undergarment, then drew the fine fabric down his legs.
His prick sprang free, fully erect. Mona bent forward, wrapping her arms around his bare waist. She slid her fingers into the firm, black skin of his buttocks, then bent her face towards his naked crotch.
Mona opened her mouth wide and pressed her lips gently over the swollen head of the pimp's erect dick. He cooed softly, bending and gripping her silk-covered shoulders.
Mona toyed with his prick, squeezing down on the cock head with her lips then quickly releasing the pressure on his hard, male meat.
The penis quivered. Styles thrust his hips forward, and slid his cock deep into Mona's mouth.
Mona strained the corners of her mouth as she opened up wide enough to let the thick shaft of the penis slide home. Styles dug his fingers hard into the chocolate-brown skin of her graceful shoulders as she slid her mouth over the thick, hardened shaft of his cock.
She reached up under his crotch and cupped his tightened scrotal sac in the pink skin of her hot, horny palm. She rubbed her thumb over the tight, wrinkled male skin, tracing the egg-shaped outlines of his testicles with her thumb.
She pressed her lips tightly over the thick, hard, quivering shaft of the pimp's prick, and slid the wetted male member in and out of the hot, horny wetness between her perfect white teeth. Styles started rocking back and forth slowly, murmuring with more passion than he actually felt. His sexual prowess was one of the means by which he ruled the women in his stable. No matter where, or when, he had to be ready to engage them in sexual contact.
"Hope I didn't snort so much, I can't come," he thought. He pulled his hands away from Mona's shoulders and began unbuttoning his frilled, white shirt. Mona pulled a hand away from his ass and took the shirt from him as he pulled it off his muscled torso. She placed the garment to one side, and rammed the soft, meaty tip of her tongue to the sensitive underside of his penis head.
Styles began to slowly pump his prick back and forth in her well trained mouth.
"That's it, baby," he purred.
"Shit, I've got plenty of juice in me today," he thought, feeling the semen rush to the base of the shaft of his prick. He stiffened as Mona began sucking hard on his taut, male skin.
Mona clasped her hands back onto his buttocks and pulled the cheeks of his ass wide apart. She slid her fingers down the lining of wiry hairs covering Styles' asscrack, then rammed a finger into the tender, sensitive flesh of his anus.
"Oh, you're good, you're number one," Styles whispered passionately. His sexual cry drove Mona's passion up into a frenzy. She pressed her teeth into the hard shaft of his big, black prick, ramming the tip of her tongue into the tiny slit in the head of his penis.
Styles worked his hips around slowly, in a circular motion. Mona jerked her tongue away from the head of his cock and dragged her tongue along the underside of his prick.
"Man must have some coke with him," she thought. "Sure as hell should have come in my mouth by this time."
Then she felt the penis begin to jerk violently. The swollen cock head rammed against the roof of her mouth.
"Oh, yeah," she thought lustily, as gobs of hot come splashed into the wetness of her mouth. She gulped hard, sucking the semen down her throat as she continued to massage the pimp's ejaculating male member with her lips. Feeling the last of the contractions subside, she jerked her face away from Styles' crotch. His prick was still fully erect. She leaned back against the back rest of the couch, raising her head as his semen slid down her throat.
"My favorite food in the whole world," she said softly, staring up at his handsome, light-brown angular face.
"And my favorite woman," he replied with a gentle smile, reaching out a long, lean arm to her. She took his hand and he softly raised her up off the couch.
"Honey," he said, "I need a bath in the worst way. But I'm tired. Could you-"
"I'll wash you, baby," she interrupted. "You just go on in there and wait for me."
Styles walked to the bathroom, half naked, his huge, erect prick swinging from side to side. The pink head was white with gobs of semen, the shaft glistening with Mona's saliva. She picked up and carefully folded his discarded clothing, laying the garments down on the couch.
Styles had already removed his shirt when she walked in. She stood silently in the doorway, contemplating his nude, muscled, light-brown body.
"I don't know if I love him or not," she thought, "But he's the only man I've been with in years that can get me off!"
Styles stepped to the tub. Mona knew her lines perfectly. "No, you don't," she said coyly. "I'll run the bath for you just sit down and relax."
She pulled the robe off her shoulders as she stepped towards the tub she had just bathed in. Styles leaned against the tiled bathroom wall, watching her naked ass cheeks spread apart as she bent over the faucets of the huge tub.
"Still don't know how I got her and broke her," he thought. "But damn, she's the one I can pass off as my wife!"
"Do you want a bubble bath," she cooed, blinking at him with her long eyelashes.
"No, honey," said Styles, a tone of mock aggravation in his voice. "You know that stuff is for you girls. I'm a soap man, myself."
"You're too damn good to us, Styles," she said. She used the word 'us' deliberately, and tensed as she waited for the expected reply. The reply came.
"Them, honey," said Styles, crouching down next to the tub and caressing Mona's naked back. "It's you and me-that's us. They are them."
Mona relaxed, and stepped away from the ornate faucets. That was the right answer-her position in the stable was as secure as ever.
"Going to marry that," she thought with grim determination. "Then it'll be all luxury and no streets."
Mona stepped out of the half-filled tub. Styles stepped into the steaming-hot water, and leaned his powerful back against a smooth, wet bathtub wall. Mona picked up a bar of soap and spread swirls of white foam across his light-brown skin.
"MMM, honey," said Styles, jerking his shoulders at the touch of her soft fingers, "You have the greatest touch!"
Styles lay back, propping himself up on his forearms. His head, shoulders and half his torso rose above the surface of the water. The lower portion of his body was completely submerged.
Moan stepped into the tub. Styles spread his legs apart, the head of his massive cock sticking up over the surface of the bathwater. He spread his legs apart. Mona knelt between his outspread legs and began rubbing the soap into his muscled chest.
Styles reached up two beefy, light-skinned hands and began caressing her naked, graceful sides. Mona lifted her head and sighed loudly at the sensual touch of the pimp's powerful fingers. She worked down his torso with the soap, then plunged her hands beneath the surface of the bathwater. She spread the soap over his submerged stomach, then drew her fingers slowly and temptingly across the surface of his brown, hard-skinned thighs.
Styles sat up sharply and pressed the wet palms of his horny hands into the soft, supple, chocolate colored skin of Mona's back. She inhaled sharply, then reached behind her, placing the bar of soap on the edge of the tub.
"You've got the greatest hands in the whole world," she murmured, twisting herself around at his passionate touch.
"Yeah," thought Styles, staring at her hard, long, black nipples, "I'm in for some of that today." Her blowjob had driven his lusts up much higher than he usually felt them to be.
He slid his hands around to her torso, and rubbed the wet tips of his fingers against the smooth, round skin of her chocolate-colored boobs. She ran her soapy, wet hands along the insides of his thighs, then up into his groin. Her fingers strayed to, but did not touch, his thick, hard prick.
The teasing motion made him pant slightly. She circled the thick, quivering shaft of his immersed penis between her thumb and forefinger, and squeezed gently. Styles moaned loudly, his passion real. He pinched her long, hardened, black nipples, jerking the perfect tits in a circular motion around her light-brown aureole.
"Come here, baby," he murmured, dropping his hands from her wet, bare tits. Mona stood up and planted her feet on either side of his lean, muscular thighs. He clamped his hands tightly around her waist and pulled her naked crotch down onto the thick hardened shaft of his cock.
Mona bent forward and pressed the slender fingers of her brown hands into the firm flesh of Styles' shoulders. He jerked his buttocks upwards, and inserted the swollen head of his cock into her throbbing, juicing cunthole.
Mona gasped and thrust downwards, burying the pimp's prick to the root in her black-haired cunt. She slid her arms down his muscled back and leaned into him, her nipples digging into the light-brown skin of his chest.
Styles felt the first rush of pleasure as his cock slid home. Mona closed her eyes. Styles cast a careful eye over the undersides of her bare arms, looking for the slightest trace of needle marks. The skin was perfectly smooth, and obviously unbroken.
"No," he thought, "Not her. Smart enough to take Angie bitch's cunt, but not her dope."
He felt a bit ridiculous at even suspecting her of turning to junk. He wrapped his arms around her naked, wet, chocolate skinned back and began to pump his penis in and out of her black-haired, well practiced twat.
Mona jerked her buttocks up and down, the firm rounded mounds of brown flesh bobbing in and out from the soapy bathwater.
Styles seized her breasts, the long, black nipples crushing into his palms.
"Oh, daddy, oh, honey," Mona cried, her passionate shout resounding off the tiled walls of the lavish bathroom. Styles felt the walls of her cunt begin to contract and suck at his invading member. He felt the chocolate-brown body he was clutching begin to shudder violently, causing wide ripples in the greyish surface of the soapy bathwater. Then Mona let out a piercing shriek, and literally leaped away from his crotch.
"I'm sorry to pull away from you like that," she said, gasping,"But you're just too much for me"
Her whole body was rocked with the force of the orgasm he had casually given her.
"Damn," she thought, struggling to regain her breath,"! don't know what, but he's it!"
She could not recall anything like the orgiastic fury Styles' prick caused in her every time he rammed the massive member into her black pussy.
"Be with you in a minute, dear," said Styles as Mona stepped out of the tub. He climbed out as she was drying herself off. Mona jerked the towel away from her black nudity and began rubbing the terry cloth surface over his muscled frame.
She worked her hands as if she was giving him a massage, pressing the terry cloth material tightly against the muscled skin of his back.
"Mona, you are a tonic!" he called out, the accent he had so carefully eliminated from his voice springing unexpectedly into his words.
Mona decided his mood was light enough for her to chide him a bit.
"Just like yo' grandmama would tell us young 'uns, raht," she said, her tone a comic exaggeration of a rural black dialect.
"Don't talk like such a nigger, woman," said Styles, a tone of put-on irritation in his smooth voice.
Naked, they stepped out of the bathroom. "Care to come into my room," said Mona, her voice a soft, seductive purr.
"Was just heading that way," said Styles, curling his arm around her bare waist. They went quickly into Mona's well decorated bedroom, the best kept of all the girl's rooms in the massive suite.
They glanced out an open window into the , ghetto streets below. Both had the same thought.
"Honey," said Styles slowly, gazing down into the littered streets. "That's where I'd be right now, if it wasn't for you girls."
"I know, Styles honey," she said. She was about to add that she would be working somewhere as a minor paper pusher, but remembered that Styles didn't like her to refer to the contrast in their backgrounds.
"And you do it all for us," she said instead.
"Hey, I almost forgot what I got for you and me," Styles said sharply. He dashed out of the bedroom. Mona lay down on her bed, writhing in anticipation of being rammed by his big prick again.
Styles walked in a few minutes later, clutching a small glass jar.
"Got your mirror, honey," he said, gazing around the room.
"Just sit back and get comfortable-I do that stuff," said Mona sweetly. She jumped off the bed and rummaged through the top drawer of the antique dresser Styles had bought for her when she first started working for him. She found a small, round mirror and ran back to the bed. Styles sat up on the edge of the bed as she placed the mirror down carefully next to him.
"Now, this is for you and me, only," said Styles, gingerly unscrewing the cap of the jar. He put a heavy emphasis on the word, 'only.'
"Wow" Mona gazed with hungry eyes at the white, fish scales of cocaine he poured out onto the shiny surface.
"Wait," she said, silently cursing herself for forgetting, "I'll get you a razor."
She fished a wrapped, single edge razor blade out of the dresser drawer and pressed it into the palm of Styles' hand.
"She's trained perfectly," he thought proudly to himself. He carefully divided the powder into four long lines.
"Here, honey," he said, extending the mirror to Mona.
She knew her part in this particular act almost as well as she knew how to turn the pimp on.
"No, you got to go first," she said, pleadingly. "You always go first"
Styles fished around in his pocket and pulled out a small box. He opened the box quickly and yanked out a thin, silver tube.
"Got to fuel up," he thought, noticing that his prick was now only half erect. He sucked two of the lines of cocaine through the tube into his nostrils.
He leaned his head back, letting the cocaine run down his throat. "Not so good, but it makes it," he grunted. The drug was exploding madly in his brain. Mona suddenly looked more attractive than ever.
She took the mirror from him and rapidly snorted the remaining two lines. Her passions rose up as the drug slid down her throat, the burning sensation in her nose flaming her lusts still further.
Styles got up and placed the mirror and tube carefully on top of Mona's dresser. She pressed her shoulder blades into the soft, satin sheets, raising her knees and spreading her thighs wide apart.
Styles stood silently for a moment, staring down at her pink cuntmeat. He knelt down on the bed and thrust his head and shoulders between her upraised, outspread thighs.
Mona raised her feet off the surface of the bed and lifted her legs high into the air. Styles plunged his face into the fleshy vee formed by her bare, chocolate brown thighs and pressed his lips to her exposed cuntmeat.
"Oh, Styles!" Mona gasped, the touch of his sensuous lips to her cunt driving her passions up into a frenzy.
He sucked the hot, juicing cuntflesh into his mouth. He shot his hands forward, seizing her large, round breasts with impassioned, cocaine-fired fingers.
Mona writhed and ground her bare twat against his black face. He poked his tongue into her cunthole, pinching her long black nipples tightly. Mona raised her head and shoulders up off the surface of the mattress and dug her fingers into the brown skin of Styles' back.
He pressed the hot, wet meat of his thick tongue against the quivering walls of her yearning vagina. He slid his hands under her bare buttocks, pulling the cheeks of her ass wide apart.
Mona rocked back. He shot his tongue out of her cunthole as she grasped her ankles, bending her nude brown body into a bow as Styles pressed his lips to the folds of wrinkled skin just below her pelt of wiry black pubic hairs.
His tongue found the tiny flap of skin over her clit almost as if it knew the way with out Styles' direction. He reached up and rammed two fingers into her pussy-hole, pressing his fingertips against her throbbing, juicing cuntwalls. He pressed his lips tightly over her little love bud, sliding his fingers in and out of the sexual hotness of her pussy. He reached his other hand up and rammed a finger hard into the tender flesh of her anus.
"Oh, ow, it's good," Mona grunted, spreading her arms out wide from either side of her naked, chocolate brown form and shrieking with passion. Styles felt the walls of her cunt begin to suck at his lips, felt her cunt meat and ass-hole tighten around his probing fingers.
"STYLES!" she let out a low wail of animal passion as she climaxed, spewing cunt juice out onto his lips and chin. Styles jerked his fingers out of her cunt and ass, and pulled himself away from her violently throbbing crotch.
He sat up at the edge of the bed as Mona lay gasping, her breath coming in deep heaves.
"You do it, and do it, and do it," she gasped, her breasts bouncing around on the naked skin of her brown torso. "You are my man!"
"And you are my woman, baby," said Styles softly. "Want to smoke a little something before we continue here?"
"Sure, daddy," said Mona, her eyes glazed with cocaine and satisfied lust. He had brought her to orgasm twice in less than an hour. And she was ready for more.
Styles stepped out of the room again and Mona lay back on the luxurious sheets, her body quivering with anticipation of again feeling his cock buried deep in her body.
Styles walked back in, carrying a small square of aluminum foil.
"Oh, baby," Mona shrieked, "You got us some hash."
"That's what it is," said Styles with a broad grin. His penis was fully erect again, and quivering as it hung from his muscled, brown-skinned crotch. He held a small, alabaster stone pipe in his other hand.
"I'll do the honors," he said softly. He crumbled a piece of the jet black hashish into the smooth, white bowl of the pipe and lit up, taking a deep drag of the sweet tasting smoke. Mona gurgled as he handed her the pipe. She held the pipe with one hand, and stroked his erect cock with the other.
"Do you like birthdays," said Styles with a soft smile, the smoke pouring out of his nostrils.
"Sure!" said Mona, wondering why he'd asked. Her birthday had come and gone a month before, with the lavish party a natural part of the event.
"Well, tonight you're going to be a birthday present," said Styles, his smile growing even broader.
"Am I going to be all wrapped up? Do I jump out of a cake?"
"Come on, girl, that's not for such high class niggers as ourselves." Styles toked silently on the small pipe, watching for any sign of unwillingness on Mona's part.
"So what am I going to do," said Mona. Styles puffed silently on the pipe, then handed it back to her.
"You mean I'm just going to be given to someone for the night?" Clouds of thick, white smoke poured out of her mouth as she spoke.
"You've got the right idea," thought Styles to himself. He found it better to let the woman describe the assignment; any complaints he could answer by saying that it was her idea.
"No, not the whole night," he said, leaning back on the bed and propping himself up on his forearms.
"You mean just for an hour or so?" Mona found herself growing excited at the prospect of the strange job.
"An hour exactly," said Styles, emphasizing the word, 'exactly'. Mona made a mental note.
"Got to bring my watch," she thought. "Don't want the meter to run overtime." When Styles said an hour, no matter how casually, he meant exactly that.