YOU GOTTA PAY FOR PUSSY

"You Gotta Pay For Pussy,"

Says my cousin Joe

If you wan'na get fucked

Or you wan'na get blowed

Gals think of pussy

Like a piggy bank

Put in the coin

Then fill the tank

Joe has a girly who

really ain't a whore

But before he fucks her

He takes her to a store

Buys her a dress

Or a wash'in machine

Gets her into bed

She starts to scream,

"I love ya, I love ya"

(and the stuff that you buy)

If it wasn't for that

She'd piss in his eye

But like cuz says

Ya got' a pay for puss

Even if ya marry it

Even if you're a wuss

You ain't gon'na dip your golden wand

In the sweet Mrs.' honey pond

Less'en you bring her your Friday pay

That's your one ticket for a roll in the hay

If you're think'en of fuck'en her sis

You better know that hour of bliss

Will cost you half of all you got

Plus kids support is quite a lot

While your dole'n out this cash

Know full well she'll be do' en trash

Fuck' en her old boyfriend in your bed

Who'll burn your end table instead

With a cigarette to show disrespect

For the all the free pussy he's gon'na get

Well it's not really free, for buddy Phil

It's just that you have paid the bill

So don't try to fuck without a dollar

The gal just might start to holler

"You're ****'n me" which gal's do

to turn you on during a screw

But if you can't pay

remember Mrs. Bobbit's crime

Who cut off Wayne's cock

when he didn't have a dime

Save yourself being short-changed

Put some cash in your pocket before you're maimed

Better to spend a dollar you borrow

Then be piss'en on your shoes tomorrow

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I am a single mother, a full-figured black woman. I'm told I am beautiful, but men will tell you anything to get in your pants, not that I wear pants; usually, I'm naked under a bathrobe when my boyfriend would come calling.

Our relationship started a little over three years ago. In our first conversations, he said he was married, rarely had sex with his wife, and he didn't get his hands on much cash. Said he worked with some of the movie companies and was paid by check. No one is perfect. That's why he'd take my daughter and me grocery shopping and use his credit card to buy us stuff after we first started fucking. He was very nice that way, buying whatever we wanted and unique chocolates for my daughter.

I told him I was working but was laid off. I was looking for a new job. He worked hard trying to find me an opening at the Post Office, the Target, even at the Police Academy. The truth is I had no intention of working. Thanks to Social Services, work isn't necessary for a single mom with a kid. As long as your expectations are modest, you can get by, especially with a little help from the occasional guy.

I liked my man as I called him. He was funny. He was a white guy, but he seemed really concerned about black people and their problems. He'd clip articles on race and religion and bring them to me. I spoke to his best friend, who was black, on the phone once, who assured me he was a good guy.

All in all, I was always treated nicely. He could be quite generous. At least he thought so. He was also good in bed, not that I ever allowed him into my boudoir. I only shared that with my baby. This forced him to have sex with me on my couch in the living room, "like two high school kids," he'd say. I'm sure on more than one occasion, he sc****d the skin off his knee on the undercarriage of the padding while busy making love on top of me. He never said a word.

My man prefaced our lovemaking with a lot of pussy eating, more than occasional ass licking, which I really liked, and fingering. He never demanded much from me, I'd suck his dick a little and play with his balls, but he never had the audacity to cum in my mouth. I never had to swallow his jizz. Even though he was considerably older than me, he had a hard dick and would fuck me almost every time he came to visit. Only one time did he start to get soft too quick, but he still managed to finish.

He never asked for anal sex. Most of the sex was missionary style, but sometimes he'd roll me over, lick my ass and try for rear vaginal penetration. That worked ok if I was standing up leaning against the couch. My ass is so big that it didn't work too well if I laid on my chest. He always ended up finishing on top of me, I guess that was his "cuming position." All told, this guy just couldn't get enough of me, he just loved fucking me. He always told me so.

I have to admit, I liked having sex with him. He'd suck my titties for the longest time before cuming inside me. The sex was right, it calmed and relaxed me. Sometimes after he left, I'd get back in bed and sleep oh so good. Maybe cause we'd do our thing early in the morning, that was the easiest time for him to escape. Occasionally, late at night, I'd think about our morning trysts. That got me all wet. I loved the brief hour or two he'd spend with me every 10 or 12 days. I'd tell him I wished I could see him every day and obviously I didn't expect money every day. And right from the start, I'd say to him, "love you too."

When we stopped with the grocery trips, he'd always give me a few hundred dollars after he fucked me, usually $200 and $20 for my kid. That came in nicely when the pantry was light on food. Sometimes he gave me considerably more. On special occasions, birthdays, or holidays, it might be quite a bit more. The truth was, I didn't always have to fuck him for it. He paid for our annual short vacation for 3 years and two short holiday trips to Vegas.

Oh yeah, he was a decent cook. He'd always bring me lovely stews he'd make for me, prime steaks, and assorted groceries, candies, and bakery products. He'd write me beautiful love poems, that was a nice touch. For special events like birthdays, he'd bring me gifts. A pretty long strand of real pearls that I'd wear to church. A diamond ring, a heavy gold chain, other stuff for me, and lots of stylish clothes for my 18-year-old daughter. Sure, it was the cash that I liked the most. You know it costs money to live?

Early on, I told him I wanted to start my own business. My man knew a lot about that. He spent hours teaching me all I would need to know. I went as far as almost getting an application for a sales tax number, but then I stopped. That was 3 1/2 years ago. I guess I was just yanking his chain to impress him. I never followed through with any business plans, and I gotta say he never questioned me about it. He didn't ask a lot of questions. When I'd thank him for stuff he did for me, he'd say.

"You don't have to thank me. I do it because I love you."

Most of the time, he was telling me stories, making me laugh, and teaching me stuff. I liked that.

Where'd I meet him? My daughter and I were grocery shopping one day. I was looking very sexy with a leopard blouse and my hair in a weave, and my tits were kinda visible. I knew he was looking at me, following me around. He finally spoke to me near the meat section. I showed him where the lamb was. We got separated when I didn't follow him to the check out stand, but there he was in the parking lot.

"Where'd you go," he said, ``I 'da paid for your groceries."

I smiled, my big smile, stuck out my big chest, and gave him my phone number.

A few days later, he called, told me his situation, being married and all and said we were both adults. He asked to come by my apartment, and that was when he first started fucking me, right from the first day.

In fact, when he said, "I want to make love to you."

I just disrobed, waved my big melon tits at him, spread my legs wide, and pulled my knees back in my particular way. He was so excited, almost as soon as he got inside me he came right away. He was surprised by how tight I was! He'd say he could hardly fit inside. Fortunately, he'd performed orally, so I orgasmed beforehand. He apologized for being so speedy. I said he did fine, he always did good.

As time went on, he was able to hold it together and fuck me for a much longer time, which was pleasurable. I liked his hard thrusts, and I particularly liked the oral. Most black guys want their dick sucked rather than eating pussy, I enjoyed his tongue. He really went all out with that.

We both wanted to avoid getting me pregnant, although he'd say if he was younger, he'd love to have a baby with me. He almost always finished wearing a condom, but it sure felt better when he wasn't. That condom sure don't take the place of raw skin when it comes to fucking.

This went on for quite a while, we only had one serious falling out, and that was way back when he took me and my daughter shopping. While he was in the back of the store, we grabbed two gift cards. The clerk put them on his bill. I told him I didn't realize the cards were $100 each. He doubted me. I said we thought they were for $10 each. Eventually, I think he believed me, but at my insistence, we never went shopping together again. Probably an error because I racked up some pretty big grocery bags for a few months before the gift card screw up.

Oh yeah, after that confusion, whenever we fucked, he'd leave me money. That was usually 2 or 3 times a month. In all, we probably had sex 80-90 times. He'd leave the cash on the kitchen cabinet and say, "I left you something in the kitchen."

I'd say, "Thank you."

He'd say, "No need to thank me." He never made a big deal out of it.

But that wasn't all, every year he'd give me $500 to take my daughter to the electronic show, also money to go to Vegas twice and a bag of jewelry cloths for the kid and a ton of food he'd bring whenever he'd come by to have sex with me.

This went on nicely till a few weeks ago. The day before my kid's 19th birthday, I asked him to pony up $300 so she could buy an electronic cutter machine. They use them to make appliqués for t-shirts and stuff. I guess it wasn't much notice.

When he came over, he kissed me a lot. He undressed, and so did I. He'd started in touching and feeling my breasts, sucking my nipples. He always laughed that I had such small nipples for a big girl, but that didn't stop him from sucking them. He'd say he was bottle fed as a baby, so he was making up for time. One time he even titty fucked me. My titties are very large. Usually he'd start in licking me from my ass to my pussy. He'd fuck me raw for a while, then pull out to put on a condom, lick my puss some more and then fuck me till he came, telling me how much he loved me and how he loved fucking me. But why not, he was a man, and I am a woman. We fit together like a jigsaw puzzle.

After our usual hour of sex, he gave me $300. That pissed me off because I'd expected the $300 in addition to the routine $200. He said something about he'd bring me extra dough next week, but all I could think about was that he'd short-changed me.

I sent him a really nasty text saying I deserved better than the way he was treating me. That I realized he was just paying to have sex with me. I threw in a line about how I loved him, which was a non sequitur, but I was furious. He called me three times after my text, but I didn't pick up.

As I should have expected, I didn't hear from him again after that. I waited about ten days and sent him a short text,

"I hope you are well, good night."

But he didn't reply until I got this long boring letter which I've attached below. Of course, that line about me keeping him just for sex is his idea of a joke, he did always make me laugh, but I'm not laughing now:

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"Dearest,

I always thought we had wonderful times together. I shared my life with you. I was very confused by your unkind text. I felt you kept me around only for sex. You know, I always tried so hard to please you.

I treated you with the utmost respect. I was upset that you described yourself as a woman who accepted money for sex, a prostitute. I would never have described you that way. I didn't realize you thought you were getting paid for sexual favors.

If you add up all, I gave you trips to Vegas, Anaheim, birthdays gifts, unique dishes I prepared for you, groceries, extra clothes, gold chains, diamond ring, sewing machine, gifts, and money for your daughter. If these were payments for sex, you were getting a lot more per session than your calculation.

Are you unaware of how much free sex is out there? How little sex costs in this city? Was I short-changed? I never asked you for anything. Did you ever even offer me a glass of water? A gift? Anything?

I've added up the many times we were intimate. I figure you'd owe me at your valuation of $200 a poke, nearly $20,000 if I were charging for my services, and I did most of the work.

I do agree with one thing you wrote. I always told you, you deserve better. I encouraged you from day one to find a good man to share your life with. I will never forget you, with love and respect, but all things come to an end."

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And then the son of a bitch signed the letter, "Your Man."

So here I am. What's that song? "Alone at last?" We girls know we have no problem finding a man to fuck ya, but that money did come in handy. Plus, he's right, we did have fun together. He was a decent lover, seemed to care a lot about me. If he couldn't come to fuck me and give me money for a trip, he worried enough to forgo the sex, and I'd meet him somewhere, and he'd hand me cash. The last time there was also a fancy pizza for my daughter and me. Maybe it wasn't just sex and money? More like sex, money, and food.

But life goes on. Each wave that crashes on the shore is followed by another. Who knows what comes next. Maybe I'm better off without him? I'm not yet sure, but time will tell. I've got my wonderful kid, and we are like two peas in a pod. Don't need anyone else, after all, is said and done...Oh, yeh, I'm late for my period this month, just another thing to worry about. If the baby ain't white, I'm gonna have some more explaining to do.