by Carrie
Diary of A Rich Girl – Chapter 80
“My folks weren’t home and my brother and sister were out.” He said, “You live on Park Avenue, right?” “Right.” He went on, “So you took him home.” “I took him home and we made out on my bed, then he got me undressed, and then, well, I wanted him to fuck me.”
He finally passed me the joint again. “Was black dick good?” “I was a bit tight. It hurt.” “Yeah, but was it good?” I inhaled and said, “It was good.” How many more times did he get to fuck you?” “A lot.” The dealer pointed his finger at me.
“And all your friends, they know that he been fuckin’ you?” I said, “Well, I was going out with him.” He said, “I bet you paid most of the time, being he black and poor, and oppressed, and all that shit.” I said, “I did chip in a lot.” He grabbed his drink and said, “I bet you did. Did your parents know?”
I said, “I took him home, but they didn’t know about the sex. He was polite.” “I bet it was strange.” I said, “They’re Liberals. They wouldn’t allow themselves to feel that way.” He said, “I sure as hell would.” I said, “But you’re not white.” He said, “No, but you’re some sweet looking girl.”
Tired of the questioning I asked him, “Will you sell me the quarter ounce?” He said, “I like you.” “Thank you.” He twirled the can around and then read the label as if it was telling him his next move. “So you like sex.” I said, “I think everyone does.” He said, “What can I say if you don’t have money? You do understand that you have to pay? I hope you don’t see that as a imposition.” “Of course not.”
He went on, “Alls you got is spare change. You spend it, what do you got?” “I can get by.” “Bullshit. Otherwise you wouldn’t have told my all your problems. Gettin’ by is a problem for folks like me. You do understand? I know how to get around problems like them.”
I said, “Of course I understand your people’s plight.” He said, “And because of that I can’t take your money.” He wiped his lips clean with his tongue and went on. “But there’s other things, other options, we should consider.”
“Such as?” He read that label again then looked up. “Make love.” “Make love?” “That’s a beautiful thing to make love.” I felt heaviness in my chest. “What do you mean make love? “He said…
