by Carrie
Diary of A Rich Girl – Chapter 20
And with that little push I was firmly in the backseat of the car. Little John told the john to turn drive into an abandoned gas station down the street and park behind the service port. The man did what he was told and shut the engine off.
I nervously turned to Little John. He reassured me, “Everything’s gonna be alright. You’re gonna be very happy.” I sat there paralyzed. He looked into my eyes and gauged my numb vacant stare. He brushed my hair back and raised my chin and held if for a second, “I told you; everything’s gonna be alright,” then let go. He slipped his hand into the front of my panty and took out the folded hundred dollar bill. “You’ll get it back later.”
The john reached over the front seat and said, “What’s with her?” Little John said, “Nothing’s with her,” and took the money from him. The john said, “Don’t lose this girl. All the others? You can get rid of’em. This one here’s the money maker.”
I listened as if they were talking about someone else. The john set his eyes on me and smiled the way a man does when a big steak is put in front of him. I didn’t like that and looked away. He wondered, “She lose her mother or something?” Little John laughed, “Long as I’m her pimp she ain’t lost nothing.”
The john asked me, “Is that right?” In a low voice I confirmed that. Satisfied, he said, “Okay, let’s get it to it,” and got out of the car. Little John did the same. I remained alone in the car. I could smell the old pan oil and grease as a light breeze drifted into the car. Otherwise it was like a lunar landscape, with jagged scraps of gutted cars and machinery littered across the ground.
Little John ducked in and took me by the arm. I didn’t give it to him, but I didn’t pull it away, either. He slid me over to his side and got me out of the car. I was a head taller than the john, but he good looking, but rough, very rough, like an aged fighter who kept in shape but stayed out of the ring. He reminded me of the men my father used to watch at the boxing league, men that were unrefined with simple pleasures. My father used to talk about the Sweet Science of Boxing as if it were a woman.
The john walked into the abandoned gas station and disappeared. Little John said, “I know the type you’re used to, but Jamil and some of the other boys in the park ain’t exactly preppies.” He was telling me I was a slut. He held my arm firmly, but gently, as he took me inside the station. The john was taking off his pants. I noticed a couch off to the corner. Little John said, “Over there,” and gave my pantied bottom a little slap.
I took several attentive steps and turned back. Little John came up to me and assured me, “It’s gonna be alright, and you’re gonna do just fine,” and again patted me on my pantied bottom and pushed me forward. I took several steps toward the couch and waited. Little John didn’t go away. I was going to be watched. I wanted to be watched. I didn’t want him to leave me.
The john was at the couch with his shoes and undershirt still on. Other than that he was naked. His cock was hard and thick. It had a funny hook, and like him was short. He said to my pimp, “What’s with your girl?” Little John said, “Ain’t nothing with my girl. She’s different than all the rest. So you got to respect her or forget about her and put your pants back on.”
I liked that. I felt more reassured. The john stared at my firm proud nipples pushing through my halter. I was a piece of ass, something he hadn’t had in a long time. I looked over at Little John once more. He gently pointed his hand toward the couch. I went ahead like a good girl.
I reached the musty old couch and touched the john’s cock and lied, “It’s big.”
He asked me, “You like it big?” I nodded my head that I did.
I sat on the wide couch, which was more like a bed and leaned back. Little John was just off to my side. He signaled me to go ahead. I did. I would always do what my pimp wanted. I’m that kind of girl, and Little John knew that. He knew I was a pretty white slut. He knew it when he picked me up. I just had to be handled right. Like he did with all his other pretty white respectable girls.
I crossed my arms and took off my halter. I was surprised how daintily the john placed it to the side. He immediately caressed my firm big tits. He was the luckiest man in the world.
I lifted up my long legs and pointed my feet to the ceiling so the john could slip my panty up and off. He loved my lacy little panty and sniffed it daintily then dropped it on the cold cement floor. I kept my toes pointed up, giving him my nice pussy. He said, “I never do this with whores, but you’re different,” and tried to eat me, but Little John said, “Put your condom on and fuck her. I ain’t got time for that other shit.”
The john lifted his head with disappointment and slipped on his condom. He was no nonsense. He pushed back my thighs and jabbed his fat short cock into me. I let out a painful sigh. I wasn’t ready. I was very tight. I let out a yell as he started pumping me with his thick fat cock. But soon pain turned into pleasure. I shut my eyes, threw back my head and got my fucking.
It was good. Very good. I couldn’t deny the pleasure. I noticed Little John paying close attention to me. I drifted off and shut my eyes as my fucking got more intense. The john jabbed his fat cock into me like a fist and knew how to keep it deep in me. I rocked my hips and tossed my head, but I gritted my teeth to prevent my screaming. I didn’t want him to hear me, but God did I need to scream. I grunted and let out an occasional moan, and soon more than I had wanted, but the john came and it was over — just when I was getting hot.
He got dressed while I lay there on the couch. Little John walked over. The man was eager, “You gonna be around here next week same time? That’s when I take my orders. ” My pimp said, “Gimme your number and we’ll set something up.” The john did that and was off.
I lay there naked and half fucked looking at Little John. He said, “You did good. You didn’t let him know you enjoyed it that much.” I said, “Thank you.” He said, “You look all tired out.” I shook my head and said that I wasn’t. He said, “Then I’ll pimp you again. ” I sort of shrugged, “Go ahead and pimp me if you’d like.” It was only 8 o’clock.
He took me out into the street and had me walk until another car pulled up. He knew I liked to get pimped. He knew I like to strut my body on the streets. He knew I liked to lift up my halter and show my goods. He knew I was a slut and he told me so. And when he did, it made me hot.
After the last trick of the night Little John bent me over and put his finger into my pussy to make sure that no john had come in me. Satisfied that I was clean, he withdrew his finger and turned me over, pulled off my panty and fucked me doggie, long and slow on the couch with his hot black cock. Finally I was allowed to moan and scream all I wanted while he talked to me dirty.
It reminded me once when I was girl and got to go to a party where there were older boys. Two of them took me to the basement to get me stoned. When they finished fucking me they left me in the basement with my underpants. I was ashamed and embarrassed, and didn’t go near a boy to disprove any rumors, but my mind was always in the basement. And it wasn’t before long when more boys got to take me to the basement to fuck me and talk to me dirty.
