Ghetto Love Bird

1. Honey Nut Cheerios

His grunts echoed in the empty room as his hands roughly course through my hair. He could barely sit still, and although my mouth began to hurt, it was all the motivation I needed.

Clay was a regular customer, if it's one thing that he loved, it was my attention.

"Damn, Honey," he moaned just on cue, and in response, I moaned back.

His hands reached out to slap my ass from the arched position I was in, and the noise echoed through around the room.

My room didn't have much, a bed, a table and a chair in the corner, but of course, that didn't matter to them.

"Get up," he practically growls and my womanhood throbs in response. I do as he says and he roughly removes my panties and pulls my leg over so that I was straddling him.

"You know what to do," he leans back into the bed, his hand folded behind his head.

And I did.

What I loved about Clay was that he never lingered around, he never stuck for conversation, or breakfast & lunch. He payed, and he left.

He wasn't arrogant or overbearing, he was actually calm and gentle, and I wish I could say that for all of my clients.

He wasn't the biggest I've had, If you know what I mean, but he often tried to take care of my body the best he could, which was against my rules. I didn't do kissing, and I didn't do conversations and the focus could only be on me for a few minutes. Clay was good, but he often just tried too much to please me at times. I believe he's learning not to though, I've had this exact conversation with him one too many times.

#

Where I came from, no one really made it out of here. High school was practically the gateway to teenage pregnancy and drugs lords, and after that women sold themselves or had sugar daddies in order to take care of their children.

Sorayah would never have that struggle. Even if I was left with nothing, and she had everything, all her schooling would be private, and she would be out of this ratchet town for college.

For now, at 3 years old, she was stuck with me.

She was never here while I did what I had to do, and all she knew for now was that Mommy took care of her. I thought about it everyday, the eventual realization of what I did for a living, I wondered if she would look at me different, if she would hate me.

Rubbing my forehead, I watch as she happily waddles to her toy box, grabbing a doll that I knew she was just going to leave alone in the next 5 minutes. I smile at her subconsciously, and my phone vibrates with a text from my friend, Tera.

Bitch, party at Joan's house.

Bitch, I'm a mother.

Ha!! Anyway, Joan invited them n^ggas from the west coast. I can practically smell the money. You're gonna pass this up, honey?

I bit my lip, my eyes averting to Sora who was already looking at me. She had a ball in her hands, and stared at me as if I had already left.

"Oh, don't look at me like that." I pout, opening up my hands.

She eagerly crawls into them, her hair clips bouncing with her three strand plaits.

The men from the west coast were known for their money and their power. I'm not sure if they paid for sex but that wasn't an issue, I knew how to let them know that I wasn't free.