Portia

by Julia Press Simmons

Genres: African American Urban

Synopsis

Portia is the madam of an elite prostitution ring in the hood. It might be time for this circle to meet its demise.

Portia grew up in the ass-for-cash game, seeing the best and surviving the worst. At five years old, hungry and huddled near a dumpster, she watched a trick beat the life out of her mother for the twenty dollars she’d just made. Portia sat there for hours until the hunger pains forced her to move, her life forever changed.

Portia has followed in the footsteps of her grandmother and mother, turning to prostitution. However, unlike her family before her, she has turned the game into a lucrative enterprise, becoming the madam of an elite prostitution ring in the hood.

Honey Williams, aka Honey Dip, is a former junkie trick turned call girl who secretly yearns for a relationship with her daughter and a chance at a normal life. She is tired of the game but doesn't want to turn her back on the prostitutes that saved her life and welcomed her into their family when nobody else wanted to be bothered. Just when she thinks things couldn't be any more complicated, she falls in love with a man who is young enough to be her son and declared off-limits by Portia.

Sex, drugs, lies, and betrayal… Welcome to the nightlife. You won’t be disappointed.

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

Honey was wet, sick, and freezing. She had sold the only coat she owned two weeks ago to a woman shivering at a bus stop. The temperature had been well below freezing that day, too, but Honey needed a fix more than she needed heat.

A bitter wind sliced through the rain, slapping against her exposed skin. Her teeth chattered violently. She swore and shook her head.

I’m going to pay for that dumb-ass move all winter long, she thought as she hugged herself.

The rain had Honey’s T-shirt sticking to her bony frame. Crack and heroin constantly ate away at Honey’s curvy figure, leaving her with nothing but booty meat. She prayed to the heavens that her fat ass would be enough to earn her a quick fix. Her entire body ached, and her stomach kept contracting and heaving, but there wasn’t any food in it for her to throw up.

Two days ago, she was wondering how she had sunk so low. She’d been sitting on the floor of the room she shared with a trick named Maria and coming down off a wicked high. She was missing her daughter, Tiana, with all her heart. But that was two days ago, and that’s damn near a lifetime to a junkie. She needed to focus on her next hit and not on the daughter she wasn’t allowed to see.

Honey reached the crack house on Norris Street and tucked her wet T-shirt inside her jeans. She wiped her face with the crook of her arm and smoothed down her nappy hair as best she could.

Satisfied with her appearance, she pushed the door open and headed straight for the stairs. Dopefiends lined the walls of the house that was dimly lit by a few candles on the windowsill. Honey’s body reacted to the smell of crack rock burning in homemade glass pipes. Goose bumps rose along her skin, and her nipples hardened as excitement and desperation charged their way through her system. She stepped over an old woman passed out in the hallway without even sparing her a second glance.

A young chocolate-covered brother sat on the steps sucking on a glass pipe. He looked to be about 16 or 17 years old dressed in a tan Dickies outfit.

Sweetheart, you are way too young to be out of school this time of day, and you are damn sure too young to be licking on a glass dick. Honey shook her head slightly but didn’t comment. She’d learned to keep her thoughts to herself long ago.

“Excuse me,” she murmured as she squeezed by him.

The young boy looked at Honey’s thighs, grabbed his dick, and offered Honey a hit.

“I’m good,” Honey said softly. She kept going up the steps.

A hit would be nice, but I need a hot shot, and I know if I bounce on Slim’s dick just right, he will give me one. Honey ran her hands down her shirt and tugged her jeans up before knocking on the door.

Slim liked to have private fuck parties on Friday mornings while everyone else hugged the block. All the neighborhood tricks were welcome until they were too far gone. It was all over for them as soon as the drugs robbed them of their shape, looks, and good hygiene habits.

“Whatcha want?” barked a rough voice from inside the room.

Honey had no idea who that was and she didn’t care. She lifted her head and cleared her throat. “I want to see Slim,” she said sweetly, and the door sprang open.

Honey sashayed into the room and stood by the wall. It was darker there than in the hall. Honey had to squint until her eyes adjusted to the sparse light of the candles in the corner. The two windows in the rear were painted black, and marijuana smoke hung in the air like a storm cloud.

Soft moans and slurping sounds drew Honey’s eyes to the corner of the room where a young woman was sucking off two dudes like an old pro. Both men were huge.

They got prison yard muscles. She ducked her head and squinted through the smoke but couldn’t make out their faces. Slim sat in a chair not far from the trio. His jeans were around his ankles, and he was stroking his wood frantically.

Honey eyed the rest of the people in the room. Another big dude stood guard at the door, and two run-down tricks held up the wall beside her. Honey gave them another quick once-over and dismissed them with a shrug. They were not only run-down, but they were also run over as far as she was concerned.

She slipped her T-shirt over her head, kicked her sneaks off, and shimmied out of her jeans. Slim is the only motherfucker in here worth worrying about, she thought as she walked over to him. She dropped to her knees in front of him and swallowed both of his balls. Humming softly, she let the vibration of her throat work its magic while trailing her fingers lightly across Slim’s thighs.

“Damn, girl,” Slim growled. “Now that’s how you say hello to a nigga.”

Honey ran her teeth against the base of Slim’s nuts, making him squirm in his seat. She let his balls drop from her mouth and kissed his inner thigh.

“Hi, Slim,” she said, rising slowly, letting her breasts brush against his skin. She turned around, giving him a bird’s-eye view of her brown round.

“Honey Dip,” Slim said in a guttural moan, “your ass is a thing of beauty.”

Honey grabbed her ass, spread her cheeks, and then let them slap together again. She gave Slim a sly look over her shoulder. He was a beautiful man with a deep, dark chocolate complexion, smooth skin, trim build, bald head, and close-cut goatee. Slim was a number cruncher for real, and he moved weight throughout the hood like a master chess player.

He had one and only one flaw.

Slim was weak for pussy. It ruled his world and his thoughts. Honey was sure that these little Friday parties and the other extracurricular activities he dabbled in during the week were going to be his downfall.

She smiled as Slim smacked her ass and then licked his fingertips. He slid his wet fingers over the rod in his hands and then clamped down on Honey’s hips.

A small voice in the back of her mind whispered for her to ask Slim for a condom. However, the voice was drowned out by her heartbeat as Slim tugged her down onto his lap and slipped inside of her.

Honey moaned. Slim was thick, long, rock hard, and he filled Honey up to capacity. She arched her back as a ripple of ecstasy climbed up her spine.

“Yeah,” Slim breathed. “You like that, don’t you, momma? Open up for daddy.”

Honey’s entire body responded to the timbre of Slim’s voice and the gentle pulse of his manhood inside of her. Warm, silky wetness oozed out of Honey’s sweet spot as she pressed herself down on Slim’s lap.

“Oh, baby, yeah,” she whispered. “Give me every last bit of it. I want all of it.”

Slim dug his fingers into her waist as he lifted her up and slapped her back down, driving himself inside of her with mind-bending force.

Honey’s eyes swept over the room, drinking in the various sex scenes that played out in front of her. Ol’ girl was slobbering all over those beefed-up niggas. The big boy at the door had one trick bent over the stool he had been sitting on. He was hammering away at her ass while she had the other girl for dinner.

Honey looked back over her shoulders and cut her eyes at the smirk on Slim’s lips. She clamped her walls down on his log and watched as his smirk morphed into a snarl.

“That’s what I’m talking about. Give me that hot stuff, girl,” Slim said. He released Honey’s waist and slapped her on the ass hard.

Honey licked her lips and moved her hips in slow circles, clenching and releasing her walls with each rotation. Slim’s arms fell down by his sides. His eyes glazed over and his head lolled back.

Honey was deep into the rhythm of each stroke. Her thigh and calf muscles were pulled taut as she braced her weight above him and slowed her pace. Her hunger for a fix was held at bay for the moment while she got caught up in the feeling—the control. She rode Slim for twenty-five minutes straight. She made him beg, holler, and moan, driving him to the brink of orgasm but never letting him release.

The trio by the door was wrapping up. Dude nutted on the smaller girl’s back, tossed them both $10, and then sent them on their way.

Honey’s legs buckled and her ass smacked into Slim’s lap as she lost her balance. That quick flash of cash brought her need for a fix rushing back. Her stomach clenched as Slim sat up in the chair and wrapped his arms around her waist. He pressed himself against her back and brushed his lips over her spine.

Honey barely felt it. The spell was broken, and all she could think about was getting a shot. Suddenly she was cold, her stomach rolling in waves. She shivered and heaved but did not throw up.

“Are you coming for daddy?” Slim whispered. “Come for daddy!” He rocked Honey on his lap, digging deep inside of her. “That’s right, baby, come all over this dick.” He squeezed her hips. “Your shit is good, you know that? Your shit don’t even feel like junkie pussy,” Slim growled. “It’s all tight, wet, and warm.”

Honey could barely understand what he was saying. The need to get high trumped the need to get off. She could no longer pretend she was some sort of sex kitten in the middle of an erotic fantasy. Her chest tightened, and her leg muscles cramped and spasmed in small, rapid bursts of pain. She whimpered as Slim slipped his arms under hers and clamped down on her shoulders. He pushed inside of her with a grunt. Honey screamed. Her eyes darted around the room and landed on a boy she didn’t even realize was there.

Fat tears rolled down his chubby cheeks.

Oh, my God. Honey wanted to go to him, wipe his tears, wrap him up, and take him away from there.

She brought her hands up to cover her breasts. Her body was jerking up and down from the punishment Slim was delivering from beneath her. He didn’t notice or care that she was no longer into it. She felt him grow ramrod hard inside of her. She knew that he was about to come, and he wasn’t about to let anything distract him from that.

A scream sliced through the air, and Honey’s head whipped around to the source. The young woman was no longer sucking the two ex-cons off in the corner. She was lying face down on the floor. One guy was kneeling on her arms, effectively pinning her in place while the other guy fucked her in the ass hard with no lube and no mercy. Her ripped panties lay on the floor beside her, and blood dripped down her hip and pooled on the floor.

She let out another soul-shattering scream, and the guy on her arms punched her in the face, cutting her eye and bloodying her nose. Honey jumped up to help her, but Slim jerked her back by her hair.

“Where you think you going, bitch?” Slim shouted.

Honey couldn’t hear him. All she could see was the blood running down the poor girl’s face. She clawed at Slim’s hands, trying to free herself as the mother in her roared to life.

Slim loosened his grip on her hair and wrapped his fingers around her neck, choking off her air supply. Honey’s eyes bulged, and her heart thudded against her rib cage.

“Yo, dawg, let me hit that,” said the guy kneeling on the girl’s shoulders. He grabbed his dick and bit his lip, while watching his friend tear into her ass.

“Naw, man,” the big man grumbled. “I just opened this shit up. Go find another trick.”

“Come on, dawg,” his friend said, sucking his teeth. “Everybody else left. Let me hit that tight little ass.”

The other man looked around the room without breaking the rhythm of his stroke. Sweat dripped off his forehead onto the young woman’s back.

“Yo, go ’head and fuck that young’un in the corner. An ass is an ass, right?” he asked ruthlessly.

An evil smile crept across the dude’s face. “You’re right about that, dawg.” He stood up slowly and turned toward him. “Come here, young’un,” he said. “Let me talk to you for a second.” He didn’t even bother pulling his pants up.

The boy shivered and tried to back farther into the corner.

The young woman screamed, “Leave my brother alone!” She grabbed his jeans, trying to stop him, but he kicked her hand away.

“Bitch, you must got a death wish.” He stooped down to retrieve his gun he’d stuck in his pocket when she’d first started giving him head.

That was his first mistake.

Honey watched the scene play out. She felt helpless and scared out of her mind. Slim was trying to choke the life out of her.

The young woman saw what the dude was reaching for and got to it first.

She didn’t hesitate, squeezing the trigger as soon as she got a good grip on the handle. She shot him in the foot, and he fell to the floor screaming. She reached back and shot the dude on top of her. The bullet went through his mouth and plastered his brains on the ceiling.

He dropped dead on top of her.

With a scream bordering on madness, she rolled his lifeless body off her and stumbled to her feet. She stepped on his friend’s chest and shot him in the temple before turning to Slim.

Slim let go of Honey’s neck and tried to use her as a shield. He cleared his throat. “Are you crazy, bitch? You must be crazy. Do you know who I am?” he asked, taking a slow step forward.

The young woman nodded and raised the gun up to his chest. “Another dead nigga,” she said as she pumped five bullets inside of him. She bent over and picked up clothes from the corner. She threw them at Honey.

“If you can move, then you best get dressed.” She turned toward her brother. “Peanut, check these bodies for cash and weight. And hurry up about it,” she said sharply.

She found her jeans stuck under the dead dude with the hole in his head. She kicked him over and spit in his face. Pulling on the jeans, she snapped her fingers at Honey.

“Yo, what are you waiting for? The cops will be here soon, and I don’t think you should be around when they get here.”

Peanut relieved the bodies of their goods and tried to open the back window. It wouldn’t budge. Portia buttoned her pants and pushed Peanut out of the way. She knocked the glass out of the window with the gun hilt.

“Go ’head through, Pea,” she said, motioning to her brother. “Be careful.” She put the gun in her waistband and extended her hand out to Honey, ushering her to the window. “My name is Portia. I saw you try to help my brother, so I’m going to help you. Come with me if you like your freedom.”

Honey’d been with her ever since.

Portia split the blunt and dumped the guts in the trash. Her head was still spinning over Mookie’s phone call at the crack of dawn. Everyone seemed to have had a fucked-up night. Honey got knocked for walking the strip, April’s transmission was shot, leaving her and Mookie stranded in AC, and Babygirl sliced up a dude at the Hub for getting a little too rough. So once again Portia had to put on her Wonder Woman outfit and save the fucking day, which was the last thing she wanted to do.

Portia was tired, sore, and stressed the fuck out. She’d had a long-ass night with Rich, one of her regulars who always beat on her poor twat like he had something against it. Nigga’s money is as long as his donkey dick, she thought, twisting up the blunt. She put up with his deadly stroke game at least four nights a week just to keep the lights on. She looked over at his six-foot-two, 250-pound chocolate body stretched out on the king-sized Serta that he’d bought her for Christmas and smiled.

“Wake up, baby.” She nudged his shoulder with one delicately manicured foot. “I’m gonna need you to stop acting like you live here and go home to your wife!” She licked the blunt seductively, letting her tongue tease the tip. His eyes locked on her lips, and that donkey dick stood straight up like a national monument.

“I’ve got something for you to lick on, Portia.” Rich stretched and grabbed his manhood with one hand and her foot with the other. He licked each toe slowly before sucking on the arch of her foot and sending tingles up her legs.

Portia giggled and sparked up the blunt.

“You want some more of this?” She put her other foot up on the bed and spread her legs wide enough to show her moneymaker. “It’s nice and wet, daddy.” She pulled on the blunt hard. She kept the smoke in for a minute and then lazily let it slide through her nose. Her pink silk robe fell from her shoulders, but the long black bone-straight weave she sported covered her breasts. She slid her hand between her legs and fingered her clit until she could feel the wetness sliding over her ass.

Rich was transfixed as he watched her pleasure herself.

“You want some, daddy?” Portia asked, slipping one finger inside her hole while puffing the blunt, five quick toots in rapid succession.

“You know . . .