a relief to be possessed by a man that truly loved her.
Sinking her fingers into his hair, she closed her eyes, and basked in the pleasure his tongue was creating.
If Shakes told her he was happy, she was going to believe him. There was no point in trying to argue with a man who knew his own mind, and Shakes’ was already made up. There was nothing she could do to change that. Nothing.
Z eke stood in the back alley of Dominion, a cigarette between his lips, the lights from the streetlamps providing a dirty, muted glow of color. The dark van that was coming toward them held Zeke’s newest purchases.
In the van was a group of pretty sluts that liked cock and wanted to make a living out of sucking and fucking it.
He inhaled from his cigarette again, snubbed the butt out, and tossed it aside.
The van stopped a few feet from where he and a few of his men stood, and once the headlights were turned off and the engine was cut, a scuzzy as fuck looking guy climbed out of the front seat. Another guy, just as greasy, got out of the passenger seat, and the two of them, with their slicked back hair and pencil thin mustaches, came over to Zeke. They reeked of stale reefer and sweat, and gauging by the sight of their stained and hole-ridden shirts, it was clear they hadn’t stopped on their trip to see him.
Zeke didn’t care what they looked like, as long as the merchandise he’d bought was in perfect condition. If they wanted protection for what they wanted to do with their life, Zeke could provide that. So, he bought them off of their low-life pimps, made them part of his club, and gave them a better life then they had.
“You have the cash?” One of the sleazy guys said.
Zeke didn’t answer right away, just stared at both of them. These fuckers were new, apparently; or they were the dumbest motherfuckers he’d ever come across. No one spoke to him like that, and no one questioned him about money. He might be a dirty and dark sonofabitch, but he made sure he took care of business in a professional way.
“Let me see my merchandise.” Zeke stared at them harder, let them see he wasn’t to be fucked around with in just that one look. The guys looked at each other, started shifting on their feet, and it was clear that they finally realized who was in charge.
One of them walked toward the back of the van. The vehicle was parked at an angle, so Zeke could clearly see the side of the van. He opened the double doors, started saying something in a low voice to presumably the women in the back of the vehicle, and then one by one, they started climbing out.
“Line up over here,” one of Zeke’s men said and moved to the side, pointing to the spot where he wanted the girls. The light overhead would let him see each one perfectly and make sure they hadn’t been beaten. The women may be willing, like dick in all forms, but that didn’t mean a john hadn’t fucked with them if they were too high or drunk not to know that you didn’t lay a hand on an innocent or unwilling woman.
Zeke looked at each woman, starting from the left and moving down. There were twelve total, all dressed scantily, all looking at him with their lips puckered, their tits pushed out, and their smiles wide. Yeah, they were Pros, working girls that probably had lives they were running from, lives they probably wanted to forget. Was it the most honorable thing to be a large scale pimp? Fuck no, but it made him a shit ton of money, and because of that, he’d keep doing the lowdown dirty work.
The girls ranged in weight, height, and ethnicity. They had big tits, small ones, had lush assess, and barely there ones. But men liked women in all shapes and sizes, all skin colors. They didn’t give a fuck as long as her pussy could squeeze their dick off, and she knew what the hell she was doing.
They looked good, clean, but he’d have his back alley doctor check them out real good, make sure they weren’t carrying anything that could get passed to his
Nancy Tesler
Mary Stewart
Chris Millis
Alice Walker
K. Harris
Laura Demare
Debra Kayn
Temple Hogan
Jo Baker
Forrest Carter