Capital Hill Diner

One of my best friends is Taneesha Williams. There is no glamour to the fact that Taneesha is one of D. C.‘s street whores. I met her one evening while waiting for an informant in an all night diner on the wrong side of town. I am a statuesque woman, 6’2”, with pendulous hips. I also do not have a spare ounce of flesh on my body due to my rigorous workouts, and regular tennis, racquetball, and golf games. Taneesha, however, was thick and juicy. I’m the palest, milky whit with inky, black curls that fall below my waist. Taneesha is the darkest shade of black and completely bald. Her make-up is heavy, her clothing is skimpy, tight, flashy and trashy, and she is salty and loud.

Her pimp is her father, Jacob. He is a merciless bastard that defies science by staying alive after nearly thirty years of heroin usage. After an hour of waiting, I paid my bill, added a hefty tip, paid the kids watching my car and was about to drive away when Taneesha came lurching out of the alley, her tall, scrawny father kicking her all the way.

I have now idea from where my sudden idealistic impulse came. I simply rolled down my window and hollered, “How much?”

Jacob was desperate and I was wide awake. Two hundred dollars and I could have her for the rest of the night. Taneesha stepped into my car, hollering insults at her father while I drove away slowly.

After fifteen minutes of driving, Taneesha’s breathing had calmed. “So, Miz Dyke,” she challenges me, searching through her enormous bag, “I think all I got in her is maybe a six incher. It that going to do you?”

About that time, we drive past my favorite adult shop, and I found a parking space down the block. This bookstore is protected, in a manner of speaking. One didn’t have to worry about getting one’s picture snapped or one’s car towed.

I smiled over at Taneesha. “Not by a long shot, girl.” I walked around the car to open her door for her. She stood, in her gold stilettos, with her cheap gold lame skirt that just barely covered her ass with matching gold lame halter top. I moved slightly to allow her out of the car and shut the door behind her. Looking down at my prize, I smiled a little bit. “Why do you shave your head?”

After a couple minutes of attitude, Taneesha finally admitted, “Men are rough with a sister anyways. Now they can’t pull my hair, too.”

“Fair enough.” I held my arm out. After a moment’s hesitation, Taneesha giggled a little bit and took my arm. ‘Seymour Herring’ is a D. C. establishment. There’s something for everyone here. The only rule was “No Means No”.

We perused the merchandise, finally deciding on a thick, black, nine inch strap-on, lube, condoms, and a large booth at the peep show. We had five roll of quarters and were ready for action. We walked downstairs to our assigned booth and Taneesha was very quiet. I pulled the straight back chair to the window and put a couple of quarters into the slot. The partition raised and we were witness to a couple of Asian girls stripping and dousing each other with squirt guns. I began to take off my skirt and Taneesha stood. “Oh, no, darling. You just sit there and watch the juvenile delinquents while I get ready for you.” Taneesha blinked. She muttered something under her breath before shrugging and returning her attention to the floor show.

The great thing about peep shows. You can see the occupants of the other booths and they can see you. However, etiquette forbade openly staring at the occupants of the other booths. Completely nude, I walked over to Taneesha’s seated figure rubbing my wet pussy up and down the back of her head and neck. She put her hands against the glass, pushing herself against me while I slipped all over her. The partition came down and I stopped to put in another dollar’s worth. By the time the partition raised, I was happily grinding against Taneesha’s skull my hot juices flowing down her back just before the partition closed again.

Taneesha’s head and back were positively dripping with my cum. The china dolls had been switched for a pair of blonde twins, who were busy stripping each other. “Don’t wipe it off,” I ordered, sitting on the chair as the newly fed partition began to rise again.

Taneesha stood facing me. “Open your legs wider and straddle my face.” I ordered her gently. Taneesha did as instructed. I grabbed each gold lame ass cheek and began to knead her ass. Sticking my face up her skirt, I licked the outside of her pussy, surprised by how neat it was. Most street walkers are snags. Taneesha was very salty, but so sweetly musky I found myself getting lost inside of her.

Her clit bumped my nose immediately. It was completely engorged. After a few minutes of tongue, the son-of-a-bitch had grown to nearly three inches. I sucked that little bastard off, making my juicy jungle girl shimmy and shake. I just kept feeding the machine and sucking off my hooker. It was like a little midget cock and I was hooked. Taneesha, for her part, screamed like a banshee the first half hour and begged me to stop the second.

After her last orgasm, I pushed her to the floor. She fell gratefully, snuggling the filthy carpet like an old, familiar lover. I got dressed, grabbed our packages and pocketbooks, and lead the way upstairs. We went into the movie arcade and took one of the booths up front. I plugged quarters into the slot and left the movie selector where it was. Ironically, it was one of those period pieces from the seventies set in Dixie, where the wife gets it one with her black maid.

I strapped on my new dildo and lube it up. I had Taneesha back up and bend over. I removed the strap from my pocketbook and began whipping her ass, feeling my own clit swell with very moan out of her mouth. Dropping the strap, I dragged Taneesha back, rubbing her ass while I sucked, hard, on her little rosebud. I just buried my face in her, rooting around for her favor, when she began to moan in earnest, I pulled her to her feet and slowly sat her on my big, thick, black cock.

About this time, a big raw-boned German walked into our booth. Without so much as a how-you-do, he unzipped his fly and crammed his ruler of a cock down Taneesha’s throat. Like a champ, Taneesha started to bob. And I was off!

I brutally took Taneesha’s hips in my grasp and began to pound her against my pelvis, pressing my part of the cock hard against my own G-spot. Incredible! What a tableau we were. We were three animals grunting in a mutual quest for satisfaction. The German had a choke hold on Taneesha’s breasts twisting them like they were radio dials. The German came first shooting his load straight down Taneesha’s throat. He slapped her, hard, right across the face about a dozen times. The sixth time he slapped her, I went rocketing off, body slamming Taneesha to the floor while I pumped away in ecstasy on top of her.

While I sat back in the chair, the German took his booted foot and kicked Taneesha onto her back. He then stepped on her huge engorged clit, slowly applying more and more of his body weight while she squirmed beneath him. He rubbed his boot against her pussy, rubbing it up and down, stopping occasionally to kick her legs open. After she came, he made her lick his boot off while he dropped five one-hundred dollar bills on the floor and left. Taneesha and I collapsed against each other and laughed.

Taneesha and I spent another couple hours at ‘Seymour Herring’ before we went out to the truck stop for breakfast. Including the two Southern Baptist truck drivers, who, afraid of STD’s, had asked for hand jobs while they ate, Taneesha made a little over two thousand dollars for some very dirty sex. We decided to go into business together. Taneesha needed a cleaner environment where she could make some serious money. Taneesha didn’t want to be fifty years old and turning tricks in the freezing cold. It was a win-win situation for everybody.