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  “Wait a minute, Audra,” he interjected. He knew a threat when he heard it. “You didn’t wanna give me a written contract because you didn’t want anyone to know you had a porn star as a client…” Not that your B movie clients are any better than me. He thought.

  “You’re an adult entertainer,” Audra broke in, sounding furious. “Fuck the preliminary shit. I got you where you are today. Before me you were fucking white trailer trash and fat black bitches with bullet wounds on their thighs and stretch marks all over their bodies.”

  “Simmer down Audra. I ain’t crossing you. You’ll get your ten percent.”

  “Ten,” She scoffed. “I deserve more. How much did they offer you?”

  “I think you should talk to my manager from now on. I don’t like your tone of voice.”

  “Tone of voice…?” Audra sounded flabbergasted. “You ungrateful, no good…”

  He ended the conversation by flipping his cell phone shut. After laughing he opened the phone again. He typed Audra a text message telling her that everything was going to be alright, that they should schedule a meeting and talk things over. Markus laughed. His mind went back to where it was before she called. He looked across the street and saw that Cali’s car was gone. Audra distracted him.

  Cali left Tanisha’s and drove off, from under his nose. He breathed in a great deal of air and let it out slowly. He was glad Cali left before he went inside. He wasn’t anxious to confront him. He needed to talk to Tanisha first.

  He usually gave her a call before he dropped by, not this time. He went inside her building and took the stairs. He usually knocked but rang the bell instead.

  “Who is it?”

  Markus stayed silent and waited. He figured she would look through the peephole, see him and immediately open the door. She didn’t. She said, “Hold on.” He waited. About four minutes later, she opened the door. He eyed her suspiciously. Tanisha was draped in one of her silk robes. He walked in, went to the living room and sat on the couch.

  “I’m gonna take a shower,” she mumbled.

  “Don’t bother, I ain’t gonna be here long.”

  “You wanna drink?” She asked. “I got a bottle of wine in the fridge.”

  “I ain’t gonna be here long,” he snapped. “Cali was here. I didn’t even know you knew him like that. Why was he here?”

  “Why are you asking?” She responded with a lot of venom.

  “The nigga slashed my tires and broke all my car windows.”

  “How can you be so sure?” She questioned. “Anybody could have done that.”

  He gave her another set of sharp eyes. She was diverting her eyes from his and could barely look him in the face. A long moment of silence was between them. Markus got off the couch.

  “Wait,” Tanisha blurted. “It isn’t what you think.”

  “What do I think?” He asked. “Please tell me?”

  “Why are you even thinking? Why Mark you ain’t my man! You wanna know why he was here? Don’t you already know why?” Tanisha asked before her guilty disposition turned into anger.

  “I guess I do,” he said damn near whispering. “Why fuck around with him? The nigga is no good, probably only using you. The nigga fucked up my car. I told you that on Saturday.”

  “He means nothing to me. It’s business, that’s all it is Mark. I’m using him. Why do you even care?”

  He didn’t know what to say. Markus’s mind was working overtime. He cared because he loved her he supposed. She wasn’t his but at times it felt like she was. Markus didn’t know what was going on. There were many mixed emotions circling around.

  “Where did you meet Cali, in Jingling Babes?” He asked.

  “Yes,” she said with brutal honesty. “He wanted more than a look at my body and a lap dance. He has a lot of money. I have a need for more money.”

  He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He knew Tanisha was what she was. He met her during a porn shoot. He fucked her in front of the cameras moments after they were introduced. What did he expect from her? He didn’t know. He felt wrong. Who was he to judge anyone?

  “You promised me you wouldn’t prostitute yourself anymore,” Markus said.

  “I gotta live, Markus.”

  He gave her a dirty look and she felt like vomiting. His expression made her sick. Markus always had a way of making her feel more the whore than she already felt. She thought it was because of the way he made her feel when he was inside of her. It wasn’t entirely the size of his dick. She knew he cared and could see it in his eyes. All she saw in other men’s eyes were reflection of her lips before she got on her knees.

  She had been hurting herself her whole life and was familiar with the pain. She knew he meant well and didn’t want to hurt him. Markus was her dear friend. She felt that she had betrayed him. He didn’t know her as well as he had thought. She could never be the sort of girl he wanted her to be.

  “I think you better leave.”

  She couldn’t believe what she said. Cali wasn’t half the person Markus was. He wasn’t worth much. Tanisha was caught up. She couldn’t tell Markus the bitter truth though she was certain he knew enough already. Cali and his cronies started muscling in on the owner of Jingling Babes. Cali fancied himself a pimp. He was always with a lot of rough looking dudes. They flashed pistols in situations where a normal pimp would only need the pimp psychology, and the baby powdered hand.

  She didn’t have the guts to tell Markus, Cali had forced her to be his number one hooker. She gave Markus the blankest face she could. She was a bottom ho now. Markus didn’t say anything until he got to the door.

  “I thought what we had was more than this. I’m not sure now. I know why I do what I do…If you get my meaning…? But I saw so much in you. You always had a choice.”

  “Life is full of choices. Sometimes we make the wrong ones and sometimes we are forced to do things we don’t wanna. You think Cali is using me,” she said with an evil laugh. She was trembling and crying inside. “I’m using him. I’m a man eater. I was using you too. I just didn’t gobble you whole.”

  After Markus left Tanisha locked her door and said, “What we had was more than the world, Mark. I never used you.”

  She broke out in tears. Her body slid to the floor. She stayed on the floor curled in the fetal position for hours. Eventually she stood, walked into her bathroom and prepared for her shower. Before she slipped out of her robe she looked at her face in the mirror. “When I look at myself I see nothing but a prostitute. I love you, Mark. But I can’t see myself through your eyes. I only see me through this mirror.”

  16

  Markus was in a somber mood when he left Tanisha’s apartment. He thought he knew her better. “I guess I was wrong,” he worded as he walked to the car. He figured in a couple of days, she would call him, and they would straighten things out.

  In the meantime he decided to gather some additional information on Cali. Markus was certain that Sparks could provide the additional information. He didn’t want to get into any street stuff with Cali. His life was complicated enough as it was without street stuff.

  “I can’t concentrate on this. I gotta go see my daughter.”

  He pulled out from where he parked and made his way to Manhattan. He hoped Gwyneth was in a better mood than she was after he refused to have sex with her on Thursday. He was too preoccupied with his own thoughts to notice anything but the road in front of him. He didn’t see the car following. The driver kept his distance, always two or three cars behind the Lexus. Cali was on the passenger side, one of his cronies was behind the wheel.

  “Keep out of sight, nigga,” Cali said. “We’re gonna see what’s poppin for the porn star tonight.”

  “Why?” A far more curious crony in the back seat asked.

  Cali narrowed his eyes before answering the dude. He wasn’t used to being questioned by anybody, but he was in a good mood. Earlier Tanisha had done an excellent job of sucking his dick.

  “Why, you say. Because
…”

  That was enough for his cronies. The driver kept his distance, staying within sight of the Lexus and continued to follow.

  Gwyneth’s husband was a very successful entrepreneur. He started out working in the mailroom of a small stockbrokerage firm as a clerk, eventually became a stockbroker and after a lot of success left the firm to start his own, Manners Brokerage.

  After a decade of more downs than ups, Manners Brokerage became a very competitive brokerage firm. By the age of thirty-five, Mr. Manners had managed to become a millionaire and his company was grossing multi-millions by the time he hit forty.

  Gwyneth married Mr. Manners for his wealth, and because of his poor health. He suffered from many afflictions even before he was diagnosed with a rare bone disease. He was impotent by the time he hit thirty, and restricted to a wheelchair one year after.

  Gwyneth was eighteen years old, and a sophomore in college when she met him. She was stunningly beautiful, and far from innocent. She saw a goldmine the moment she spotted Jonathan Jacob Manners at an economics seminar held at the university she attended.

  She was an economics major and Jonathan Manners was known to her. Everyone in the economics department knew who he was. Although most didn’t know he was confined to a wheelchair, and in such a fragile state of health, until he made one of his rare appearances.

  It mattered little to Gwyneth. She made sure that she sat in the front row where he couldn’t miss her. Gwyneth made sure she crossed her length of bare legs and that he got a good look at what wasn’t under her short skirt. Jonathan had taken a long glance at her while he was at the podium. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She knew she had him exactly where she wanted him.

  He wasn’t the first man Gwyneth used. He was the first one she looked at with dollar signs. They courted for a half year. She would wheel him to the park where they would sit and talk economics and politics. For Gwyneth being in public with Jonathan Manners was an embarrassment. But it was all an elaborate plot. The ends would eventually justify the means.

  Jonathan inevitably asked for her hand in marriage and Gwyneth accepted. Things were going according to her plans. He married her with no prenuptial. All she had to do was jerk her husband’s dick while he sat in his wheelchair. She would jerk him for hours. He was always flaccid, could never get a full erection.

  Although he still had an urge for sex, no blood flowed through his penis. Eventually things migrated to him liking to see his young beautiful wife getting fucked by other men. In the beginning, Gwyneth was completely against it, but eventually she conceded. Jonathan might have been physically weak but he was mentally sound. Gwyneth loved sex and she couldn’t get it from her feeble husband. She also suffered from manic depression.

  Jonathan used this to his advantage. The drugs she took were drugs his personal physician prescribed. Gwyneth was constantly under medication. Jonathan always had a few of his young male friends over. Gwyneth found herself being taken by three to four men at a time. She was so medicated she couldn’t remember what was going on. Jonathan loved to watch his lovely wife getting fucked.

  Now thirty-nine years old, Gwyneth harbored many sexual preferences, fetishes, fantasies and perversions. She wasn’t sure if they were genuinely formulated from the kinkiness she endured being Mrs. Gwyneth Manners or if she was a freaky thing beforehand.

  She loathed her husband. When she was eighteen years old, she figured she would outlive her husband three or four times over. She figured that when he passed away she would still be young and have plenty of time to enjoy all the money. He managed to hold on to life longer than she planned and even longer than any of his doctors anticipated.

  The phone rang as Gwyneth was in the middle of her midday workout. She was on the Stairmaster machine in the gym.

  “What is it?” Gwyneth snapped.

  “Someone is here to see you,” the doorman said. “It’s Markus Johnson.”

  “Let him up,” she said pressing a button on the cordless phone, and tossing it. “Valencia!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, calling the maid.

  “Yes, Mrs. Manners,” Valencia said after she ran into the room.

  She seemed more out of breath than Gwyneth, like she had done twenty virtual flights. Gwyneth and Jonathan Manners lived in a three story penthouse apartment.

  “Markus is here. Is Emily awake?” She asked.

  “No, Mrs. Manners. She’s still napping.”

  Valencia had a heavy Sicilian accent. She was a young, slim, shapely, olive complexioned auburn haired beauty. She was always adorned in a black and white maid’s uniform. It was the tightest and shortest skirt uniform Gwyneth could find. She liked Valencia very much.

  “Send Markus here.”

  She dismissed the maid with a wave of a hand. She still had another fifteen minutes on the Stairmaster before her workout was finished. She was thinking about a different sort of workout when Markus walked into the gym.

  “Where’s Emily?” Markus asked as soon as he walked in.

  “She’s taking a nap and don’t you dare disturb her,” she said walking flights. “We got off on the wrong foot the last time you came over.”

  “I guess we did, Gwyneth,” he said dryly.

  “Call me what you used to call me.”

  “Bitch, I used to call you bitch, and things worse.”

  “You used to call me your white thang. Don’t you remember that? You were younger and stupider. I guess you think you’re smart and independent now. You still need me,” she said, breathing hard.

  “What do I need you for? Money…? A place to stay…? What…? Why do I still need you?”

  Her eyes widened like silver dollars. “You signed complete and utter guardianship of Emily to me and Jonathan,” she laughed menacingly. “You don’t even have visitation rights. I let you see her out of the kindness of my heart. I would say you need me a great deal.”

  “What do you want?” He asked.

  “Your big, black dick…”

  Markus began unbuckling his belt. He let his jeans drop to his construction boots. “You want this?” He asked, reaching inside his boxers. “This is what you want? I’m supposed to keep fucking you. Haven’t you had enough?”

  “Suppose I haven’t…? So many questions Markus,” she said, turning off the machine.

  Gwyneth grabbed the towel draped on the handle bars, stepped off the virtual stairs. She stood in her tight spandex shorts with her sports bra, dripping with sweat, looking good.

  “So many questions...”

  She was once someone he looked forward to seeing when he was young and naïve. Now he hated the sight of the woman and wouldn’t mind seeing her dead.

  Gwyneth once kept Markus from seeing Emily for eight months. During that time Markus didn’t know what to do and felt like committing suicide. Emily was all the family he had. His daughter was the only certainly tangible thing he had.

  Markus moved on Gwyneth in a burst of rage, forcefully grabbing her by her long blonde hair. He yanked her to the floor as Gwyneth cried out in pain. Savagely Markus pulled down her spandex shorts and realized how much she was enjoying the roughhousing. Her pussy glistened and bubbled. Gwyneth was looking up into his face, her eyes twinkling.

  “Yes,” she purred. “Pretend I’m a slave master’s wife, like old times.”

  He didn’t want to see her face and vehemently turned Gwyneth over on her stomach. Markus knew how she loved looking into his face, but all he wanted to do was fuck her as hard and deeply as he could. Not out of passion or lust, but anger and hatred.

  He speared her soft walls with his hard dick, for what seemed like forever to him. Markus wanted her to explode. He didn’t want to be inside her for long. He kept her face down on the floor, mashed her face so hard her nose started bleeding. She was having the hardest time breathing but she was enjoying every moment of the conflict and pain.

  She was squirming, attempting to move her body away from the thick shaft working in and out of her. Violently
with only a few grunts, he fucked Gwyneth. She tried crawling away from the pleasurable pain, but Markus wouldn’t have it. He used both hands to press down on her shoulder blades, preventing her from turning around or rising.

  Gwyneth was helpless and screaming loudly. Markus kept inflicting painful thrusts.

  “I’m coming…!” she screamed.

  Her body lost all its strength. She ceased struggling and started her whimpering. She had reached her climax and Markus immediately released his grip. He got up, pulled up his pants, and went to a window. He stood there looking outside.

  A couple minutes later, Gwyneth turned over. She stood on wobbly legs as Markus eyed her in disgust. Blood leaked from one of her nostrils and Gwyneth’s eyes glinted with light. She enjoyed it. Gwyneth staggered over to a table and grabbed a lighter and a cigarette.

  “Shit, you practically raped me,” she coughed, smiling.

  “I was trying to kill you. Can I see Emily now?” Markus uttered with indifference.

  “I suppose you can,” she sang, taking a long pull on the cigarette. “You didn’t cum.”

  He walked out the room without saying anything to her. Markus wanted to see his daughter, take a shower, and see his shrink.

  17

  He didn’t get a chance to spend much time with Emily. She was sleeping so soundly he did not want to wake her. Markus watched her snoring softly in her bed. Emily was beautiful and precious. She was his blood, his daughter. He kissed her softly on her cheek.

  Markus took a shower, washing the foul scent of Gwyneth off him. She was somewhere in the penthouse apartment. She got what she wanted from him. After showering, Markus left. The maid showed him to the door. Markus knew every inch of the apartment and didn’t need her assistance on the way out.

  “What the fuck!” He exclaimed once downstairs.

  It was all he could say. He was looking out the front entrances window. He parked a half block from the building. He walked out the building’s revolving door, saw his car in the distance and ran over to it. All of his tires had been slashed.