Belle (Urban Fiction)

S A N D R A

"Come on, baby. Bounce that booty like a basketball," a thirsty nigga hounded Sandra.

She backed her almost bare ass right on his shaft and gave him the best lap dance he'd ever received. Who said little booty bitches can't werk it like the donkey booties?!

When her shift was over, it was almost 2 in the morning. She went into the back of the gentlemens club to the locker room and took off her pink bob wig. The owner followed her and tapped on her shoulder. "Sandraaaa! My babyyy!" He snatched her up and blew his cigar smoke right in her eye.

Sandra snatched away. "Watch it, bitch!" she scratched her eyes vigorously.

"You're the best stripper here. Am I wrong?"

She rolled her eyes.

"What'd you say?" he pushed his ear dramatically toward her with his cocky ass.

"I said yes, Miguel!" Sandra crossed her arms over her large bosom.

Miguel's eyes automatically went to her chest. "Damn, Mami!" he took a puff of his fat CAO Gold cigar, "You busting out that Babydoll." Babydoll is the term for a loose fitting bra with an attached loose-fitting skirt, made of sheer fabric.

Sandra smirked. "What do you want?"

"I need you to do something for me," he started. "I need you to... satisfy our men."

Sandra gave him the " da fuck " face. "Ain't that what you hired me for?"

He nodded.

"Don't I do that?" she was still clueless.

Miguel was getting impatient. He sighed and threw his hands down by his side. "I need you to fuck them, Sandra. Suck 'em up... something."

"Whoaaa. I ain't sign up for syphilis and gonorrhea!" she threw up her hands and went over to her duffel bag.

He came up behind her and rubbed his manhood on her bent over ass. She jolted up slightly. "Move, Miguel. I need to go home. I'm fucking tired," she complained.

"You gon' do what I need done?" he asked seductively while gripping her waist, forcing his dick onto her thonged ass cheeks. Sandra grabbed her sweatpants out of her duffel bag and backed Miguel up off her.

As she slid her gray sweats on, he stared at her without an ounce of chivalry in his body. The asshole didn't even have the decency to not look at her change. She threw her lingerie into her bag and hurried to put on her bra.

Miguel seized the opportunity to push up on her some more. He turned Sandra to face him and fondled her left boob. At first she was annoyed, but once he bent down and latched his warm mouth around her tender areola she couldn't help but stand on her tippy toes in pleasure. Miguel wasn't an ugly man by any means. He was average height with the stereotypical Latino thug look: gelled back jet black hair, thick and trimmed mustache, with his face twisted into a sexy mysterious look, and a short sleeve button down shirt he always wore open which displayed his untamed chest hair.

Every dancer hired at that club could only wish that Miguel would give them the time of day as he'd done Sandra since she started working there. Normally, newbies had to work their way up to even a second glance from him. Working their way up meant getting on their knees and throwing that neck. But Sandra wasn't down for pleasing anybody but her pockets. She wasn't hired to suck up to him for a few extra pennies, so she wasn't going to do that. Hell, she was the best exotic dancer King Of Diamonds had ever laid eyes on. She didn't need them. They needed her.

Miguel flicked her nipple around in his mouth and didn't stop. He looked her dead in the face the entire time. "Switch," she ordered. When it came to pleasuring Sandra, she knew just what she wanted and made sure you knew too.

Miguel did as told then moved his tongue up to her neck. He swirled it around and sucked on her flesh like his life depended on it. Sandra let a tiny moan escape her lips and regretted it right away. She didn't want to give a cocky mf like Miguel a bigger ego than he already had. Sandra was the most hard to get girl he'd ever encountered in his life. Therefore she didn't want to be another notch in his belt.

She stopped him and nudged him off a bit. He stood up straight and examined her with his eyes. He licked his dry lips. "I take that as a yes," he grinned devilishly.

"A yes to what motherfucker?!" His incredible tongue game made her completely forget what he was there for in the first place.

"Busting it open for these old geezers."

Sandra laughed sarcastically and snatched on her raggedy t-shirt over her bra-less tatas. He took the hint and finally left her alone in the locker room.

Sandra walked a few feet over to the dimly lit restroom area and stared at her face in the solitary, water stained mirror. She didn't like what she saw. The reflection that stared back at her was not someone she recognized. Also the huge purple hickey on her neck disgusted her. That was going to be hard to cover up from her big brother, Sandré.