by Carrie
Diary of A Rich Girl – Chapter 24
I was sprawled out on my bed thumbing through a new issue of Vogue trying to make a boring evening at home interesting. The problem is that Vogue can be very uninteresting at times. I reached for another magazine, a downtown publication with some new, but not yet famous designers. One of them, a guy named Mac, had been calling me and leaving messages for a shoot. He knew a girlfriend of mind that was a model and she told him that I’d be perfect for his clothing. I thought he might be trying to pick me up or something, but a after quick look at his stuff I realized this guy had real talent..
His stuff had a lot of flair, almost video game like, in that it was fun, but aggressively so. You had to have a hot body to wear his stuff. A pound here or there or a flat chest wouldn’t make the cut. Long good bones and a look were what mattered, but a girl needed breasts for his look, not Hollywood boobs; she had to have real tits, shapely and nice. I had just what he wanted. I also had a feeling he’d been reading a lot of Manga and that he had absorbed the energy and look created in those characters.
But I had other more pressing things on my mind. I was dying to get fucked. I was thinking about masturbating, but what I really wanted was cock, and just about any would do. Lounging around my apartment in a hot pinkish merry-widow didn’t help matters, either.
The phone rang. I lazily reached over and picked it up. A nice sexy voice introduced itself. I listened. I was in a mood for a voice like that (so much so that after a few moments of listening I slipped a finger into my panty.) It was that designer boy, Mac, that my girlfriend was trying to hook me up with. He had a way that made me instantly like him, despite the fact that he had told me how beautiful I was — he meant it, too.
He also showed a very humorous side of himself. He talked about some silly designers we knew, and some of the more famous ones. We laughed at how boring and stuck-up they’d become with their same old predictable looks. We were mutually in need for someone hot and new to come along, and I got the idea Mac just might be it.
His imagination was very sexy. He liked fun clothing that could be evocative of multiple moods. I agreed with everything he said about where fashion was and wasn’t going. I had a feeling that this boy just might be really going places. Then he popped the question: would I model for him? I said, Sure. I’d love to. Just tell me when.
He said when was finished working on this Indie film, which would be by the end of the week, he’d love to have me come over. He said he thought I’d be a lot fun to work with and that I had a sexuality that would really make his clothing work.
Talk about films, I didn’t tell him about Little John and his film. (After what he did to me in the taxi that night, like a good white girl I went over his place the next day so he could fuck me again.)
I had been letting Little John fuck me a lot. I’d come over after work or on a Saturday afternoon. Last Wednesday evening, instead of going to that society gala, I went over to his place. His girls worked the other two rooms, while he worked me in his. I thought it was odd that they saw it as a privilege to get fucked by him. One of his black whores walked in on me and Little John, stood by the doorway, and watched me hot in the act. She picked up my fancy expensive clothes, examined them, then venomously sneered, If only her white daddy knew.
I wanted to give her a piece of my mind, but Little John turned me over and kept fucking me, instead. I put up a fuss, but he wouldn’t have any of it, so he put his hand to me and spanked my bottom good and hot. Spanking always makes me loud. He furiously slapped my cheeks back and forth until I began to sob, and then he fucked me while I sobbed. The whores had their ears to the wall.
When he was done with me I dropped onto the bed and shut my eyes ready to drift away into deep sleep, but he pushed me over and said that I had to leave. He was busy and didn’t have time for me. He tossed me my lacy panty and bra and told me to hurry.
As I hastily dressed I noticed a video camera on the other side of the room embedded in some clutter. I asked him, Did you film us? He smiled and said, Yeah, what’s it to you? Nothing, I said.
My mind drifted back to my present conversation with Mac. As he spoke, I slipped the copy Little John had given me into the VCR and played it for a moment then shut it off. Mac, asked, What’re you listening to? I said, Some porn. He asked, Are you into porn? I laughed, What honest person isn’t?
I pulled out my trusty twelve inch candy red dildo and laid back while Mac excitedly continued telling me all about his plans. I hit the remote and let the tape play. A few seconds was all that I needed. I dropped the phone, took hold of my toy and slipped it deep into my pussy. Mac would have to wait.
