This is the first chapter of a book I wrote a few years ago. I am not giving you the title, I just wanted to share because it was a very exciting time in my life. The name is the same as mine, but the story is all fiction. I am about 1/2 way done with a new book right now, but time has been limited for me to write. If anyone wants to see some of my non-sexual work, ask. I would love to share.
Have you ever met one person that you can’t forget? Whether good or bad, their presence left a stain on your blue silk dress. At the age of 17 3/4, Gypsy was on the cusp of womanhood, and the first night of being an Escort. She was still a virgin then. Is it even possible for someone that age to have retained their virginity for that long? She once dreamed of saving that perfectly packaged little cherry for the man she loved. The need for money changed that. It’s funny how that happens. Starvation can change a person.
Frank Paloma was his name, and he was the underboss for a very affluent family. She had been introduced to him one night at a party, and the way his eyes drank her in, she knew he would be the one. Too many to count had offered her money for her innocence. They craved to wear it as a badge of honor. That bloodstain meant more to her than anything in the world, but it was a challenge for a man. They feel nothing for the woman as long as their nut sack is drained, and they have that cherry busting on their resume.
New York – Waldorf Hotel :
“Get yourself some food from room service. I got a call to make,” Frank said.
If one closed their eyes and listened, they would assume The Soprano’s was playing on the television when this man spoke. A thick Brooklyn accent, he made three calls while she waited for that room service meal. All of them business-related, she learned more that night than she had ever known. She knew that some guy named Tony was in the River as arranged, the price of a kilo of cocaine and that his wife was in labor with their first child. That was the night she learned that women in this business are only eye candy, but if she opened her mouth, she would end up like Tony. When the hotel door closes, so does the mouth.
When the knock at the door sounded, she was halfway to opening it, but a firm yank to the back of her hair caught her off guard. He knew she ordered food, so why stop her? It wasn’t till she saw the silver revolver in his hand did she realize what was happening.
“You fucking stupid or something. Did your Mama drop you on yer fuckin head? Don’t you know who the fuck I am?”
All she could do was shake her head. Cat took her tongue along with her words. He checked the peephole before opening the door. The gun tucked down the back of his waistband. Tossing the money at the man, his large hand grabbed the dinner tray, slamming the door closed behind him. Frank placed the dish on the table. He pushed her against the wall with a loud thud.
“If you ever pull that shit again, I’ll make sure that you don’t. Now fucking eat. I need my dick sucked, whore,” Frank grunted.
Her entire body shook with fear when he released her. Even her father didn’t scare her like that. Scrambling to the table, what the fuck was she going to do with all this food? She didn’t want it anymore and not sure she could even swallow it if she tried. The silver lid lifted, the food repulsed her. A burger and fries were usually her favorite, but not today. Would she insult him if she didn’t eat though. After all, he paid for this food. She didn’t want to offend the man on top of everything else that had happened.
A bite. Just take a fucking bite. Gypsy dipped her head low, blond locks sheltering her face. She pushed one of the hot fries in her mouth, trying hard not to vomit it back up. Thankful, the salt is a natural repellent for vomiting and somewhat helped to settle her need to puke. She tried hard to take a bite of the burger, but her lips wouldn’t accept the offering. Covering the tray back, she waited for a moment before speaking.
“I will eat this after. You don’t want me choking and puking, right?” Gypsy said.
His smile let me know that it would be fine. He was a man, after all. They think of nothing but getting off when it comes to a woman.
“Take all the shit off except the shoes? Leave on those cocksucker heels. Then crawl over here with that ass up in the air so Daddy can see it!” Frank demanded.
It was the moment he was lucky that she didn’t eat that food. She would’ve vomited the moment he said that endearing name. Daddy was and will always be the one person that she hates. Being a good girl, she did as told—first, the white silk blouse, then the pencil-thin black skirt with a slit to her ass. She dressed professionally but slutty enough to turn heads when she walks in a room. Underneath it all, she wore only a pair of white silk panties with a small red rose on the band. There was never a bra needed. She has a firm 32 B, so covering them at times seemed like a waste.
A drop to her knees, she crawled across the carpet like a cat stalking a mouse. Her ass was high as she can put it. Frank’s expression told her immediately what she forgot. The panties. A hand up to halt her advancements. She saw the disappointment in his face. She could only imagine how displeased he was with her. Hindsight being twenty-twenty, maybe she did that on purpose. If he couldn’t see it, then he couldn’t have it, right?
“This is what’s wrong with you, young ones. Yer fuckin stupid. You don’t use your fucking brain at all,” said frank.
He rose from the bed, walking around. Frank used a switchblade to cut the barrier from her body. He didn’t toss them to the ground. Instead, he put them on the bed. Why? She will soon find that out.
“Now get the fuck over here and suck my fucking dick, you stupid bitch!” he demanded.
Scrambling across the room, her hand trembled when she pulled the teeth apart on his zipper. She reached in as though it would bite her. With her dominant hand, she removed the thick shaft of his massive headed cock. Whatever they say about Italian men was true. He was excessive in circumference, and the prominent veins on his dick pulsated with lust. Slender fingers caressed up and down that meat stick, each time her index finger massaged the veins to push pre-cum to the head. He was leaking in a stream down the sides of his prick. For a moment, this reminded her of a melting push pop on the hottest day of the summer. Sticky, sweet, and ready to explode.
“Open yer mouth and lick that shit up,” Frank said.
She closed the drapes on her blue orbs, her mouth slowly inched forward, tongue out to slither over the pulsating head. Like a snake, her tongue danced circles over his massive dick. She was using the very tip of her tongue to fuck the bubbling slit. She could push the very end of her oral muscle into the piss hole, causing him to grip the bed. Hoping it gets her out of fucking. Stretching her lips wide, just as he used the back of her head as a handle for his needs, her throat became victim to his abuse. He thrust his hips against her face, his balls echoing a wet smack each time they hit her chin. The fuck was brutal on her throat. At one point, she could taste blood. That was the moment she learned to deep throat even the biggest dicks.
“Stop yer fucking whimpers,” warned Frank.
Tears rushed down her face, staining her cheeks with a trail of tears. It hurt to take it all, but she could do it. She could take all of him. Gypsy might be 17, but she was earning her ranks in the escort business. As quickly as it started, it stopped. She heard the text come through his phone. Was he going to play on the phone during this?
“Get the fuck up and lay on the bed. Open yer legs wide enough that a heel touches each side of the bed. Then take those panties and stuff them in that cock hole. I can’t have you screaming and the heat busting down the door,” Frank ordered.
She did as told. It was her nature to please, and she’s good at it. What happened next put scars of fear all over her body. He muted her so she couldn’t refuse him anything. Between her legs, his phone sat, ready for whatever he had planned. The revolver he carried in his hand used his fingers to part her pussy lips, pushing the barrel of the loaded weapon inside of her sealed entrance. It was not enough to pop that cherry, but far enough that she had to stop the screams from coming. Was he going to fuck her with the weapon? That cold steel was stretching her little hole open to fit snug around it. In my wildest dreams, she could never imagine this happening to her.
“Now, here’s the deal. You rub that clit and masturbate for me. You make one sound while I’m on the phone, and I blow that fucking cunt away. Got it?” Frank said.
She nodded fast, her slender fingers pressing against the tiny package of nerves. Frank’s phone rang, but she never stopped. She massaged her pussy. The walls were slickened with juices. What the hell was wrong with her?
“Babe, what is it? A fucking boy? About goddamn time I got a boy. Sorry, I had to go out of town, you know work though. Always needing me somewhere.” Frank said.
Did she hear this? Was he on facetime with his wife while she masturbated? He had a loaded gun inside of her, threatening to kill her, and he wants her to orgasm? This man had the voice of a Saint, and the self-control of the Pope. Not many could watch a girl massage her sweet young pussy and not even cause a rise in his pulse. She did note one thing, though. He seemed to push his fingers’ tips into the mattress, the longer he spoke on the phone. She could tell he was trying to get both of them off—his wife from the phone, and Gypsy in general. The silver revolver shined with a slick glaze of honey.
“I’ll be at the hospital in a few hours. Give my boy a kiss from his daddy,” Frank said.
With his phone off, Frank’s attention was back on Gypsy. She wished he would have stayed on the phone all night. At least when his wife was on the phone, she was safe. Her little bit of innocence that was left still intact. She wished to be a child again—one who only worried about skinned knees and the ice cream truck’s sound in the distance. Innocence doesn’t come with an expiration date, but she felt as though there is one on hers. She sold her virginity for forty grand. No person should ever have to do something like that. She never thought it was real until today.
He pushed his hand across the white sheet, his fingers now gripping the cold metal. His hand wrapped around the handle as he placed his finger on the trigger. If Gypsy slipped, he could quickly end it, but if she didn’t, would ever recover? Did she want to? The sight scraping the wall, she screamed out in pain as the first hint of copper hit her nose. He scratched her innermost flesh, causing it to trickle a thin line of blood. He hadn’t taken her virginity, but he was close. She feared this act more than anything, but why? It was as natural as walking. People fucked every day of the week. Why should she hold onto something that never belonged to her anyway?
Her finger moved over the swollen nerve center. Pinching and twisting the tiny nub, she pushed the image of the gun from her head. Oddly enough, it kept creeping back inside of her mind, littering her with sexual needs. What if he rammed the full barrel inside and fucked her cunt while she bled. Stop, that’s not how it happened. She lived with that fantasy for the longest time, but the real truth was so intense.
He pulled the gun back, watching it drip pussy nectar, shaking his head. She had drenched the weapon without even trying. Was she as sick as he was? Who gets off on almost dying?
“Open that fucking cock sucker and clean this. I can’t leave here with my gun smelling like cunt,” Frank demanded.
She pushed herself up, nails dragging along the Egyptian cotton sheets, crawling like a stalking cat. If he had told her to purr, she would have. It was too hot, and though she hated him, she craved him. Dominance, power, and fear all ran through her head as she drowns in a sea of emotions.
Tonight was the beginning of her love for sucking cock. Her throat still ached from his dick, but her tongue pushed down that barrel, cleaning all of the juices. When done, it would sparkle as though it was newly purchased and never fired. A small taste of gunpowder in the back of her throat let her know he had used it before.
He pushed her back on the bed with a firm hand, yanking her legs apart, and smirking as he looked down. He reached to the side of the bed, grabbed a little foil package, and slid the contents down the shaft of his cock. Spitting on the foundation of her innocence, a warm glob of saliva hit her clit, the head of his cock smearing it in. Then, at that moment, he lined himself up, forcing every inch of that massive dick inside her without warning – her pussy screamed for help along with her mouth.
“Oh my god, fucking stop; just fucking stop!” Gypsy screamed. The only sort of reaction she got was a hand covering her mouth and his hips thrusting hard enough to shake the bed. Every inch of her body hurt, and the scent of blood filled the room. She was bleeding all over his cock. Her virginity was gone, and her thighs warm with a gush of blood. She sold herself for 40 grand. Was it worth it? Yes. That was more than some made in a year.
His hand moved when her mouth stopped, but only to be placed around her throat. Subtle choking, she thought he would kill her first, but then she realized how the lack of oxygen constricted her body to increase his pleasure. Her walls strangled his cock like a boa constrictor killing its first meal. He was going to hurt later, but right now, she prayed for a fast finish. Two minutes later, he pulled from the inside of her, ripped the bloody condom off, and shot all over her face. A steady stream of cum covering her face, the warmth felt like fire against her skin.
No sooner had he finished was he gone. The sheets covered in blood, her face covered in cum, and forty thousand dollars thrown around the room for Gypsy to pick up. Looking down at the slaughter on the sheets, she knew that she would never be the same again. All she was is a bloodstain on a mattress and a memory of the day his son was born. Welcome to the Mafia. A place where the women are whores and the men love them.
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