I don't take shit from anyone, not even a whote grown man that can't last a minute without shooting hot cum.

"

This isn't our deal," she gritted her teeth at the stranger who smiled casually at her. For a second, she could have done a double kick to his face. Instead, she focused on clenching and unclenching her aching fists.

"You were too clumsy," the stranger said, dipping his hands inside his pocket, intently watching the young adult who tried to focus on her breathing. Life wasn't a bed of roses.

Roses? Are there even roses?

She croaked moving closer at him now "I rode you all night, you even woke me up to tend to your lustful needs."

"You called that lustful?" He raised a bushy eyebrow at her, silently mocking her weakness and admiring her courage as she spitted out vicious words at him.

He continued, not minding how glassy and hard her brown eyes were on him "We both enjoyed it, didn't we?"

"We had a deal," she repeated slowly but wished the stranger could change his mind and write her a cheque like how her customers do to amaze her and draw her attention towards them but they were wrong. It was the money she was interested in, nothing more and nothing else.

She didn't notice the stranger shifted towards her closing the space between them by an inch, his breath reeked of cigarettes and alcohol. She had regretted her night with him when she saw him stark naked.

How could she describe him when she sees her friend? She held her breath, refreshing back the hideous images she buried into the red sand and covered it with rocks and fresh grasses.

Potbelly, fleshy laps with stretch marks, hairy chest. It could have been better if he was hygienic and had the smell of expensive perfume. But immediately he had held her around the waist, pouring out the practised words she knew he had at the front of a mirror with pathetic grins.

His body screamed 'I need washing please.'

He is exactly the type of man she tries as much as possible to avoid. To save her the stress of reminding them about her pay. She forces a smile on her face and gets on her hands and knees sucking their dicks. She gagged at the thoughts, wondering what on earth they shove their dicks into.

"If you want me to pay you more then you have to promise me to shake that butt of yours," she gasped as she felt his hands beneath her back, squeezing, pressing her butt cheeks. Her face burned with hatred, anger and unspoken emotions building inside her emptied stomach.

She slapped away his hands from her body; she might sleep with men for money to keep her body and soul, but not always. She told herself whenever she looked at the mirror gently wiping away her face with a tissue, disgusted at her face for taking in hot cums that shoot from the tiny hole of the horny man, who is eager to paint her body in a creamy, white jelly and offered to have her put her luscious lips on his swollen manhood that has red veins crawling in a parallel line.

"Give me back my money," she snarled at him ignoring the passersby who were too busy to mind their own business. Too busy to mind their own business? Hell no, her tongue was dipped in sarcasm, baptized with jokes and cleansed up with foul language. She wasn't going to argue if anybody told her about it. Instead, she would give the person one of her sincere smiles and whisper to their ears. Then, by all means, make them buy her a drink.

The stranger was taken aback by her displayed attitude, his hands which were inside his pocket tried to find his phone. Any mistakes from her, then he won't hesitate to dial the police. He has dealt with her kind before, dealing with her now will be much easier.

Lies.

She tried to steady her voice instead it came out in cracks making her p sounds like f

Flease, spare her she was in no mood for jokes in the early morning when she was supposed to smuggle with her Teddy bear, flipping stations with the Tv remote, cursing loudly at the characters who as usual don't know which planet she came from. Please.

"I told you, let's go back to the room and negotiate the price again," she saw the mischief dancing deeply in his grey eyes, his flat nose already sweating out the problem he was deep into. She knew he was not comfortable in this cold weather, he wanted what she wanted.

Alcoholic drinks on the table, watching the TV and screaming at the footballers for every slightest mistake they made.

She stepped back a bit, her lips pressed together to avoid the trembling that would give her away a wrong message. I am scared. She wasn't scared at all. She was looking at how hard her shoe will slap him on his sunken cheeks, how his flesh will burst out with water and blood. Was she even sure his blood would be red? Giving it a try won't hurt her but what about him? Let him rot in pain.

In a second, she was flying in the air like an excited chicken testing its feathers, she wanted to be sure her two shoes would kick out broken teeth from his mouth. Within twenty secs she was in the air, she had her high heels landed on his jaws and what happened next?

She was met with screams from the stranger who held his broken jaws with his two big hands like an oversized baboon cuddling an oversized banana, is there an oversized banana? She definitely doesn't want to know.

A woman who held her daughter covered the little blonde girl's eyes from seeing a gruesome murder. Was she kidding anyone here? Just a man in a dirty coat and mismatched socks crying like a baby, sitting on the ground.

It made her remember an old man who was playing his guitar anxiously waiting for a few dollars from passersby. She had watched from afar and saw how he smiled when his cap turned upside is filled with coins and dollars. When she finally mustered the courage to meet him on the other side of the road, she quickly dropped money inside his cap and left.

She heard him screaming blessings for her and promised her a song to be played by him. Maybe when she goes there, then she can sit beside him and hear his songs and old country stories.

"Black bitch," she heard the woman who avoided looking her in the eyes. She wasn't weak like her frail daughter who would cry if her scrambled eggs weren't scrambled. She lived on milk, and potatoes and sometimes stayed without food. She wasn't tormenting herself, it was life doing justice to her, remaking her into a strong woman.

With a look at the stranger, she spent the night with, stroking his dick in her hands as he laments how his wife left him for a milkman, who comes every day, and how he found him straddling his wife whose eyes turned white as the big dick embedded in her vagina that stretched out leaving pre-cum trailing her fleshy laps

She flagged down a cab and entered inhaling the scent in the car, that was her habit she wasn't going to drop soon. It helped her know if the taxi man whose eyes are on the road thinking of what his family would eat was the one who carried her last week is still the same man who carries her now.

Nope, She shook her head. The wig was itching her badly, she stayed still on the spot with eyes glued on the window.

She was going to call her friend now, she took out her phone and punched the button, the sounds filled the car provoking her as she knew she was drawing attention to herself.

At the second dial, she heard a shrill voice, was it a mistake calling her? Did she get her out of the bed? She patted her head gently as the thoughts flow back and forth.

"Wassup bitch," she heard her friend's voice and background voices that followed her as the bitch word left her mouth.

It was quick but not too quick when she saw the taxi man looking at her through the front screen, his yellow eyes studying her and wondering why an eighteen years old who puts on a black dress that didn't reach her knees, is doing out here.

Wasn't she supposed to be in school?

Mind your business.

"There's this man who decided not to pay me," she rolled her eyes.

Her head bobbed up and down as she argued flawlessly with her friend.

"No, make him like the chicken we saw the other day." She yawned in between as a smirk found a way to her oval face.

"Your wish is my command." Her friend had said before cutting the line.

She dropped her phone back inside the black purse, the man was going to regret cutting her price in half. He was going to regret making her pussy suffer all night without no rest.

He was going to regret calling her clumsy. She hummed softly to herself as she thought of what to do when she got home.

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