There are regular girls who get cat-called, and then there was me.
It was a completely different category of harassment. I couldn't step outside of my tiny studio apartment for lunch without a barrage of attention from men. Even without makeup, I literally stopped traffic, even causing a minor fender bender once. I was consistently scouted by modelling agencies on the street. I'm not trying to seem arrogant, but that was my daily life. My commitment to fitness kept my butt perky, full, and smooth, while my breasts perfectly complimented my athletic, slim, dancer-like body. Unlike other girls who dressed a bit cute or too sexy, I know I looked sexy without trying too hard. My lips had a natural slight smile, my eyes large and doll-like.
The truth, though, is I was suffering. Some people called it the Great Recession. I called it the hungriest time of my life. Even though I was working full time as a teacher, I spent 100% of my rent on a tiny 300 square foot studio. I'd been a straight-A student in college, but very few companies would even give me an interview. I ended up becoming a teacher, barely able to get by on my low salary. I loved what I did, but it was tough. Rent crawled up every year while my salary didn't budge.
I was on my last $10 bucks, which had to last me 2 weeks, when I finally got so hungry that I did what I normally did in that situation- I went to the grocery store to steal a candy bar. Great example for a teacher to be setting, right? Dressed in denim cutoff shorts and a thin tank top, I felt comfortable on the hot summer night. I knew it was wrong to steal food, but I was desperate for something to eat. Reaching for a nutty looking treat and looking around nervously, I snapped one off the shelf and shoved it in my bag. I thought I'd been really stealthy, but I felt a hand on my shoulder.
"I recognize that nervous look." I turned around to see a very tall black man, dark skinned with a cocky smile. He was much taller than I and in very athletic shape. I couldn't help but admire his gorgeous, dark skin and visible muscles. "You can't tell me that a gorgeous girl like you can't pay for that."
"Not really," I said. "I hate that I have to admit it to a stranger like you. But can you just not tell on me? I'm starving. I don't just mean I'm hungry. I mean that this could possibly be the only meal I'll eat today." I was well aware that desperation was leaking out as I spoke, but I wasn't going to be able to think clearly until I ate something.
"What do you do?"
"Teach kids."
"Ah. Noble. But it doesn't pay the rent, does it?"
"This is embarrassing..."
"Tell you what. I have food at home. I'll let you eat what you want and I'll even buy this for you, even though you really shouldn't be living on junk food." He had a huge, disarming grin. I had to admit he was handsome. Was he going to make a pass at me at his house? Maybe, but I was so hungry, I began to trust him. "You don't want to steal from a store like this. I've been poor before. I get it. Let me help you." His voice was playful and kind.
In my desperation, I jumped at the chance, knowing I might have to dodge a sexual advance later. I could feel his eyes on my perfect ass as I walked in front of him to the register. In the line, I felt his hand lightly rest on the lower part of my ass while he loaded up the conveyor belt with his groceries. A middle finger gently crept upward, pushing against the crotch of my short denim shorts.
"Let him hope he'll get laid," I thought to myself as if giving myself a pep talk. "As long as I can lead him on, I'll be able to get what I want out of him."
The drive to his house was filled with jokes and relaxing conversation. I began to let my guard down and thought about how easy this guy would be to handle. Maybe I could mildly flirt and even string him along. Go out to dinner with him once a month and beg him for a few bucks. I told him all about my life, where I worked, and where I lived. He seemed interested. "It's working. I'm going to have him under my thumb. Pretty soon, he'll be buying my groceries every week," I thought.
Meanwhile, I was getting more and more lightheaded from the lack of food. Even giddy. It felt a bit like being drunk without drinking. My body was struggling but my brain felt light. As I entered his house, I thought about the sexy looks I'd give him to manipulate him. Soon, he'd be giving me anything I wanted in hopes that he'd get laid one day. The oldest trick in the book.
"Before I make you something," he said, "Let me make you a drink."
"Sure," I said, not wanting to be pushy before I got what I wanted. I looked around his humble but tasteful house. He didn't show off his wealth with ostentatious stuff, but had tasteful pieces and plenty of books, especially books on history and psychology.
"Cheers." The drink was way too strong. It tasted like pure vodka. It burned on the way down to my aching, empty stomach, causing an immediate fog to form in my mind. "What are we having for dinner?" My giddy state amplified. Would I be able to pull this off?
He emerged from the kitchen with his sleeves rolled up so I could see his muscular, dark arms. He held only a drink. "I'll get you your food in a minute. Don't worry." He sat right next to me on his leather couch, his hard, muscular body pressed against my fair, toned body. "Do you like the place?"
"I do," I said hesitantly. "I'd like it more if I was less hungry."
He chuckled. "What do you think I do for a living?"
"You look like an athlete."
"You know, that's funny. I used to be. But I got injured and couldn't play anymore. I had to figure something else out. Something else that paid well. Maybe you know this, but most jobs don't pay that well."
"What are you, a businessman?"
"Kind of." He smiled.
"Let me guess. A model."
"No. I'm in the adult industry," he said.
"A gigolo?" I guessed.
He laughed. "There's a much better market out there for men who want to have sex with women. I run an agency of elite, sexy women for wealthy clients. Someone who looks like you could make a lot of money."
I laughed and took another drink, repulsed this revelation. "Thanks, but I can't do that. I'm a teacher. It's a public job. If someone I know found out, I'd be ruined. Plus, I'm really not that kind of woman." That strong drink was really messing with my head. Meanwhile, I felt my panties getting wet. This humiliating situation was turning me on, even though I was horrified and hungry and was hoping to find a way to leave.
 
                             
                         
                         
                         
                         
                         
                                 
                                 
                                 
                                