I pushed each breast up to meet my long tongue and flicked the tip of it across my nipples. That aroused me so much that I started bouncing up and down on his dick like a pogo stick until the poor baby couldn’t take it anymore and exploded for the second time.
I do a lot of men a lot of different ways, and I love doing it. So I didn’t grow up to be a ballerina or an actress. As far as I am concerned, what I do is even more fulfilling. I give men what they want and what they desire. If you are ever in the NYC area, dial 1-900-694-KANDI, and “Kandi Kan Make U Kream!”
Life Imitates Art
* * *
I love movies—always have and always will. I totally lose myself in the characters, become them even. When I was a little girl in Detroit, we lived near a drive-in theater, and I could look out my bedroom window and see the people and images moving around on the big screen. I could never hear the actual words they spoke, but I became quite the expert lip reader.
My mother, who was a single parent, couldn’t afford to take me and my three brothers to the movies so we would cook some popcorn on the stove, the old-fashioned kind that comes in a little aluminum pan with foil that expands as the kernels underneath pop, and then have our own little night out at the movies.
My brothers would only watch the movie once or twice and then go play with their action figures or pretend to be cowboys and Indians. I would watch the same movie over and over again for as long as I could keep my eyes open. I would prop myself up on the windowsill in my bedroom with a pillow behind my back and become enthralled with everything from the love scenes to the bang-bang-shoot-’em-up scenes.
The mere thought that people could become larger than life, with millions of people all over the nation, sometimes even the world, watching them at the same time, was amazing. It was pure magic to me. I remember thinking how beautiful all the women were, with their painted fingernails and lips, thick eyelashes, and fancy hairstyles. The way they moved around the screen with such elegance and grace. The handsome men they got to fall head over heels in love with, sinking into their arms, kissing them passionately, caressing them all over their bodies and, in the R-rated movies, even sucking on their breasts. It was electrifying.
By the time I was ten, I was hooked on a dream. I wanted people to someday stand in line to pay their money and watch me on the silver screen. I wanted to capture the hearts of men everywhere and gain the envy of women. I wanted to be larger than life, to have people run up to me, ask for my autograph, and scream out my name. I wanted to travel the world and have people cater to my every wish and obey my every command. I wanted to be a movie star.
Now, fifteen years later, at the age of twenty-five, I am indeed a movie star. Men of all ages and races want to take me to bed, women and teenage girls want to mirror my image, and I am worth millions. I am now in the position to give my mother and brothers everything they ever dreamed of, but unfortunately, I can’t.
My mother died from breast cancer when I was nineteen. I was devastated. For two years, I thought of only one thing: suicide. I used to sit in the dark and cry for hours and hours, analyzing the quickest and most painless way to end my own life. Only three things dissuaded me from going through with it: my brothers. I am the oldest, and it is my responsibility to ensure that they make it in this world. We have no grandparents. They all went to heaven a long, long time ago.
When our mother died, I was working in a video store in the daytime because I loved the fringe benefits. I got free movie rentals and the privilege to see videos the day they were released. Once she died, I was rudely awakened to the fact my minimum-wage salary wouldn’t even begin to cover the expenses of clothing and feeding the four of us. I couldn’t stand the possibility of my brothers becoming wards of the state.
So I did what I had to do and became a stripper. It was cool because it gave me the opportunity to cook breakfast, see my brothers off to school, be there for them when they got home, help them with their homework, and cook their dinner. My brother Paul, fourteen, was old enough to watch the younger ones, Jonathan, ten, and Reggie, eight, when I went to work at night. The entire situation worked out pretty well, but it would have been better if our mother was still there.
I was so-called discovered during one of my performances. A theatrical agent named King James—yes, that is really his name—approached me after the show and told me he wanted to represent me. I thought he was full of shit, of course, and he halfway was. He expected me to fuck him for his representation, and I did. I fucked a lot of men to get where I am; producers, directors, agents, whoever. It’s all a game. Bottom line is, when the smoke cleared, I was on top. Most women give it up and never land even one role for all their efforts. I have made six movies so far, and this is only the beginning.
When it comes to acting, I take it very seriously. Since I never had the opportunity to take formal acting lessons, I have learned to improvise. In fact, I developed a fool-proof method for acting my ass off in any role I am challenged with. No matter what the role is, no matter what it calls for, I prepare myself for the task by acting out all the vital scenes for real. Life imitating art, so to speak.
My first role was the easiest; it was as an exotic dancer, so no role-playing needed there. My second role was a bit more trying. I had to play an invalid, so I got in a wheelchair and pretended to be handicapped for a month to portray the role more realistically. I even participated in a wheelchair race to raise money for birth defects, and the publicity was great. It worked, because it was the role that made me a star. I became a household name and got nominated for several awards, even an Oscar. I still say the only reason I didn’t win them is because of the melanin in my skin.
Once my third acting role came along, things began to get interesting, to say the least. I landed a role as an escort, so I put on a wig, some colored contacts—a disguise, if you will—and went to an agency and became an escort on the real. It was interesting, word up on that, and I only did it for a few days to get the gist of the role I was portraying. The three men they sent me out with were true freaks, and of course there was no publicity. I am not that fucking crazy.
The first man took me to a boring-ass opera and then wanted to spend the rest of the evening sucking on my toes. He had a serious foot fetish. I couldn’t believe his ass paid to suck some toes, but hey, my dog Spot used to lick my toes when I was a little girl, so no skin off my back.
The second fool took me out to a fine restaurant, followed me to the ladies’ room when I went to go take a leak, and then ate me out in the bathroom stall. He was all right at it, but I wouldn’t nominate him for any pussy-eating awards or anything.
The third man, who was also the reason I quit after three days, was a straight-up freak. He had the agency send me directly to his hotel suite. When I got there, it was cool at first. He was attractive and had a nice seafood dinner ready and waiting for me by candlelight. After dinner, he went in the bedroom and came out in the sitting area of the suite dressed as a drag queen.
He started talking like a woman who sounded like she had a dick stuck in her throat and wanted to play out a lesbian scene with me. I told him to get the fuck off me and left. I called the agency from my cell phone, cussed the owner, Devina, the hell out and quit. She was this old-ass hoochie with tits that rested all the way down on her stomach and a sagging ass to match.
My fourth role was as a blind pianist. Just like all the other roles, I took it seriously, and the publicity was even better than it was in the invalid role. I donned a pair of dark glasses and wore patches on my eyes underneath so I couldn’t see. I also took piano lessons and became pretty dayum good with the eighty-eight keys in a couple months, but most of the actual scenes from the movies involving playing were still done with trick photography.
My fifth role was the one that turned out to be downright dangerous—not during filming, but during my quest to portray it in real life. The role was as a member of a female gang. Once again, I put on a wig and some contacts, changed my app
earance around a bit, and thought I had it all covered. But I was seriously mistaken.
One night I was hanging out with some of the girls from this gang on the Lower East Side, trying to get them to accept me and jump me in. Yes, I was actually going to go that far to see what it was all about. They told me to come to a party with them at someone’s house, and I told them I was down.
We got to this house, and there were drugs and guns and liquor everywhere, along with several male undesirables. One of them, nicknamed Smoke, was fine as shit, and he and I got to drinking together. He convinced me to try some weed, something I had never done, but I figured it was in my best interest to pretend I was experienced with such things.
It must have been laced with something, because I started freaking out and shit, hallucinating and seeing three of everybody. Smoke carried me into one of the bedrooms, and we started getting nasty together, kissing and licking and sucking until we were both undressed. He ripped my wig off, which I had partly covered up with a bandanna, and told me he knew who I was all along and that we were going to have a real good time together.
Before I knew it, he called all the rest of the people in the room to watch. I was attracted to him big-time and feeling nice, so I went along with the game plan. I had never fucked someone in front of a group, and now I was about to fuck this stranger in front of gang members—gang members who could expose me at any second to the press and destroy my career. It was pure insanity, but nothing was going to prevent me from fucking Smoke that night. Not a damn thing.
I got lost in his touch and blocked everyone else from my mind as he swiftly removed my clothing and then slipped out of his own. He was cut like an Adonis and hung like a bear. I was taken off guard when he handcuffed me to the bed but didn’t protest. If I was going to let it all go, I might as well go for the ultimate experience.
Smoke forced my legs open and told two of his buddies to hold them open, and they did. I had no idea what he was going to do to me, but it excited me. He climbed in between my legs on the bed, grabbed both of my breasts, and sucked on them roughly one at a time. After several minutes of that, I came with a vengeance.
I could hear people laughing at me and saying things like, “Damn, Smoke, you can suck a titty till a sister comes!” and “Look at this shit! Smoke is doing a movie star! Ain’t nobody got a camcorder up in this bitch?”
He stuck his long, thick dick in me, and I succumbed to the ecstasy of it all. If I hadn’t been drugged up, I would have worked my ass all over his dick, but I could only lie there and enjoy. I had always been an undercover exhibitionist but never had the nerve to actually go there.
Smoke slammed me so hard with his dick that I could feel it in my abdomen. His friends implied that they wanted to take a turn with me, but Smoke made it clear that the shit wasn’t happening. He fucked me for a good hour, and I lost count of my orgasms. I’m not sure if it was the dick, the situation, or a combination.
Once he was about to cum, he pulled out and jacked himself off until he came all over my tits. Then I sucked his dick something fierce. He fed it to me while I was still handcuffed to the bed, and tasting my pussy juice on him was the greatest turn-on. There was a moment when I almost gagged, but I relaxed my throat just enough to get it all in.
Smoke and I fucked until sunrise. All of the others eventually cleared out of the room. Half of them were stoned, and the other half just had better shit to do or needed to go someplace and fuck around themselves. That morning, he cooked me breakfast, and I found out a lot about him. He was in a gang, but he was also smart as shit and quite the entrepreneur. People can say what they want about drug dealers, but name another profession where someone can make upward of ten grand a week by word of mouth and zero paid advertising.
Smoke and I got along so well that we started dating officially. In fact, he lives with me now in my mansion, and the newspapers and tabloids are having a field day with the story, but fuck them. This is my world!
Now, I am in the process of making my sixth film. I portray a serial killer. This is the first time I can’t act out all the vital scenes in the real. This is the first time life can’t imitate art. Or can it?
Out of Control
* * *
The first time I saw him, he was sitting across from me at the hotel pool. I couldn’t get a great look at him because the sun was beaming down on my head, and I had left my sunglasses back in my room. As much as I dreaded the sun, the thought of having to make the trek back through the massive hotel to the bank of elevators, go up twenty-two floors, and walk down two hallways to get to my room was even more unappealing. That is the one drawback to staying at a luxury hotel. There is such a thing as being too damn big.
Anyway, there I was chilling in Atlantic City, the city that never sleeps, or at least one of the cities that never sleeps. My fiancé Morris was supposed to be vacationing with me, but he wimped out at the last minute after his mother asked him to take her shopping. Talk about a momma’s boy. What kind of man misses out on a weekend full of fun in the sun, gambling, and sex to take his mother to a mall for an afternoon? Only fools deal with such nonsense.
I was seriously thinking about calling off the wedding. I was in love; there was no damn doubt about that. However, love is one thing, and happiness is something totally different. Just because two people love one another does not necessarily mean that they should be together forever, because forever is a long-ass time.
That was what ran through my mind as I eyed the bronze brother lying on a green-and-white striped lounger on the opposite side of the pool. All kinds of naughty thoughts started floating through my head. In the lead was the thought of fucking him right there in the pool in front of everyone. Not that I would ever have the nerve to do something that bold—freakiness has never been a problem for me, but that was a bit much. A sister can always fantasize, though, because what happens in a person’s private thoughts carries no risk or judgment.
He jumped up from the lounger and stretched. Uh-huh, that Negro was fine. He was about five-nine, with curly black hair—that naturally curly shit, not the kind you buy in a box. His body looked like it had been carved, and he had very distinctive facial features. Yes, I was definitely in lust, which was not a good thing for an engaged woman to be.
He had on these tight-ass black swim trunks, and I zeroed in on his dick like a missile. The bulge seemed mighty large, and I wondered if the brother knew how to work all of that. He suddenly looked directly at me and smiled. I smiled back as he walked closer to the edge of the pool and jumped in. He disappeared underneath the water, and I lost him in the masses of people enjoying themselves in the pool for a moment. Next thing I knew he was coming up for air less than five feet away from where I was sitting.
“Pretty day!” he called out to me.
“Yes, it is! Kind of hot, though.”
He winked at me. “Most people like hot things.”
Umm, he was coming on to me. Things were about to get a bit scandalous for real.
I tried to think of a clever reply. “Yes, most people do, but only until they get burned by them.”
He pulled himself up out of the water by his arms and came my way. The water glistening on his skin made him look like something out of a health spa commercial. You know, one of those spots where they encourage you to get in shape for summer by joining today at a reduced rate. I got bamboozled into one of those deals and didn’t go five times because working out was pushed onto the back burner. The bottom line is that if a person is committed to getting in shape, they will do that no matter where they are. Like the majority of Americans, I had several pieces of exercise equipment collecting dust at home.
“What’s your name?” he asked me as he sat down on the lounger beside me.
“Sam.”
“Sam? Is that short for Samantha or something?”
“Nope. Actually, it’s Sam Jr.”
“Sam Jr.?”
“Yes. My dad always wanted a son, and after six daughters, h
e demanded that the baby had to be named after him or else.”
He chuckled. “So you’re the baby of the bunch?”
“Unfortunately. Trust me, it is not a pleasant position to land in.”
“I can’t imagine. I’m an only child.”
“And does Mr. Only Child have a name?”
“Sorry, I’m being rude.” He offered his hand. “I’m Austin.”
We shook hands.
“Where are you from, Austin?”
“I’m from San Diego. I’m here for a pharmaceutical convention.”
“I’m from Richmond, and I’m here to have one hell of a good time.”
“Not a damn thing wrong with that.” He reached over and patted my thigh. It felt incredible, too. “Maybe we can have one hell of a good time together.”
I blushed. “One never knows.”
He started checking out the big-ass rock on my finger. “Whoa! If you’re here with your husband, I don’t want any drama. I can just move on.”
“I’m not married, Austin. I’m engaged.”As the words left my lips, something just didn’t feel right about them. “My so-called fiancé backed out on this vacation at the last minute, so I’m not really happy with him right now.”
Austin grinned and patted my thigh again. “His loss is my gain.”
Austin and I ended up having a ball for the rest of the day. After chatting for about two hours by the pool, we went back to our respective rooms to change into casual clothes. I met him down in the casino at the quarter slots because anything more than a dollar at a time was not leaving my possession. Some people can justify spending their entire paychecks on “what-ifs,” but not me. I was reared to appreciate and stretch every dollar. I must admit that the gambling was mad fun, though. I won some money, lost it all back, and broke even in the end.