“This is why I hate going to a fuckin’ black school. They can’t do anything right. Now I have to walk all the way from the back of campus to the Mini-Dome because they still haven’t waived my out-of-state fees,” I mumbled to myself as I walked in the ninety-degree heat. “As soon as I get my money, I’m getting my car fixed,” I told myself as I continued across campus.
“Damn nigga, you’re sweatin’ like it’s the fourth quarter of the Bayou Showdown.”
“Fuck you Chris,” I quickly replied.
The Bayou Showdown was the annual battle between SU and GSU, the biggest rivalry in Black College Football. The game was always held in the New Orleans Superdome the weekend after Thanksgiving. For most of the players it was the equivalent of playing in the Sugar Bowl or Rose Bowl game.
Christopher Jamal Clasper was by far the coolest cat on campus. You never knew what was going to go down with Chris around. Anything was likely to happen. He was co-captain of the team and he was one of the best defensive backs in the SWAC. Luckily, he was my roommate too. The only thing he did better than play football was deal with women. He was one of the main reasons I decided to come to SU. I remember it like it was last weekend.
Coach Davis was busting his balls to convince me to commit to his program. So he flew me out to Baton Rouge and let me meet the team the summer before my senior year in high school. Coach Davis gave Chris the task of showing me around and making me feel comfortable. He took me around town and gave me a tour of the school. He showed me around all the team facilities from the weight room to the practice field. We partied and he introduced me to some of the Lady Jaguars roaming the campus. By the end of the week, I was 150 percent convinced that this was where I was going to get my education. I will honestly say that was the week I got turned out. I mean, I had had sex before with some of the girls from back home. But these college girls were on a completely different level.
“These bastards still don’t have my shit straight. I been waiting on my refund check for almost two weeks,” I snapped at Chris.
“I told you not to hold your breath and get your hopes all up, crazy dummy,” he said with that classic grin of his.
“Have you seen coach?” I asked.
“He was in his office a few minutes ago. He might still be there. I got a one o’clock class to make; I’ll catch up with u later.”
“Fa sho, I’m going to go holler at coach and I’ll see you at the crib.”
“Aight, peace!” I dapped Chris up and headed toward Coach’s office.
I was visualizing the long, hot shower I was going to take when I got back to my apartment when I bumped into Coach Davis preparing to leave his office.
“Coach, can I talk to you for a second?” I asked as I approached the tall oak door.
“What’s up, Parvais?”
“Coach, they still haven’t waived my out-of-state fees and I turned in my paperwork almost two weeks ago,” I whined. Once the fees were waived the school would owe me a three thousand dollar refund.
“Calm down. I’ll call Dr. Paxon and have her take a look at your account.”
“That’s all you have to do?” I asked, surprised. “They’ve been making me check back with them three or four times a day. Then when I call or go to their office, either nobody is available to help me or the system’s down.”
I’m pretty sure coach could tell by my facial expression that I was pretty pissed off.
“Ha ha ha. That’s just the price you have to pay; you don’t get to see all these sexy ass women walking around campus for free,” he laughed, barely able to control himself.
Coach Davis always seemed to find a way to make his players feel better about whatever they were dealing with. To most of the players on the team, he was like a dad. Especially for the guys that didn’t have a father figure to turn to during the hard times.
I had to laugh, too. That was probably the biggest plus to attending a historically black university: an abundance of sexy young women and a shortage of young black men qualified to dick ‘em down. The women had us outnumbered almost twelve-to-one.
“Well, how soon do you think my check will be ready?” I asked him.
He replied, “It should only take a few days. I’ll call her when I get back to my office and let her know that it’s important.”
“Thanks, Coach, I owe you one!” I exclaimed.
Coach Davis was the man! He could get just about anything taken care of with a few phone calls.
“Don’t worry about it, kid. Not too many coaches have a shut down corner to rely on. If I don’t look out for you, some other coach will. Now get out of here, you got me late for an appointment.”
He put some papers inside his briefcase and grabbed his Nextel phone before he locked up his office.
I was just leaving the Mini-Dome when I spotted one of the sexiest girls on campus walking to her car. Her smooth caramel complexion and her Coke bottle figure made her easy to recognize. I had seen her in the union a few times and I overheard guys talking about her in the locker room. But as far as anybody knew, she was a complete mystery. I was too hot and sweaty to try and holler at her, so I just made a mental note to hop on her the next time I spotted her by herself. I could use a dime like her on my team, especially since she has her own car.
I asked one of my other teammates to drop me off at my apartment since my car was still in the shop. Quincy lived less than ten minutes away from me and Chris so he said that it wasn’t a problem. When I walked in the front door Chris was sitting on the couch and offered me some of the pepperoni pizza he was wolfing down.
“You going to the party tonight, Parvais?” he asked as he took another bite of the pizza.
“I want to, but I ain’t got money to waste. Especially on some damn drinks,” I replied. “I told you my check wasn’t ready and I was supposed to send some money for Sianne’s birthday party. Plus we had to pay a late fee with the rent because of me. The way it’s looking, I won’t have my money ‘til sometime next week.”
“How much were you supposed to send her?” he asked.
Chris hated to see his best friend struggling as much as he tried to hide his emotions from everybody. Football players are usually like that. We have to be macho, twenty-four-seven, three-sixty-five!
“At least two hundred,” I said. “I want her birthday to be about something.”
“Man, you straight. Hurry up and get your funky ass in the shower,” he said as he playfully pushed me toward our bathroom.
When I got out of the shower, there were six hundred dollar bills sitting on my pillow. That was enough to pay my half of the rent and send money for my daughter’s birthday party. Chris definitely knows how to look out for a playa. It’s time to get crunk!

I had just finished my exam in my biology class and decided to ride the Jag Train, our campus bussing system back to my car. I didn’t think my ankles would be able to handle the walk all the way across campus in the heels I had on. The bus stopped and dropped all of the commuters off in the Mini-Dome parking lot. I was headed toward my car when I spotted some of the football players across the street.
One of them had on a sexy little tank top and some gym shorts. I normally don’t notice guys dressed like that, but the way his muscles were shining in the sun seemed to grab and hold my attention. I had seen him before but I couldn’t quite put my finger on where I knew him from. I was just sitting there staring at him like a deer in headlights when he looked directly at me and started to smile. I was instantly embarrassed, and I did everything I could to try to play it off. It’s a good thing he didn’t know what was really going through my mind. I hadn’t had sex since Terrell and I broke up and my pussy hadn’t been touched by anyone but myself in almost four months. I quickly started my car and drove off, pretending I didn’t see him nodding his head in my direction as I drove off.
I grabbed my CD case and popped in my new Kanye West CD. I wanted to listen to “Kanye’s Workout Plan,” which was basically a song about gold digging women trying to get a rich man. As soon as the song came on and I started getting in the groove of the lyrics, my cell phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and saw it was my girl, April, calling. I answered my phone and told her about what had just happened. April loved hearing stories about me embarrassing myself. Anything dealing with rumors or gossip was right up her alley. April’s the type of chick that knows – or at least think she knows – everybody else’s business. She told me that everybody was talking about going to a party at the Belmont Hotel and asked if I wanted to go. I told her that I didn’t have any plans and I tried to tell her I would think about it. But April is so persistent that she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She told me she would be at my place to pick me up around nine-thirty. It was a little after four so I had plenty of time to swing by the mall to pick up something to wear and still have time to go and get my nails done.
We continued to chat on the phone and within a few minutes I had told her all about the string of events that led to my embarrassment. And the way my body reacted. I kept picturing those sexy ass muscles all day long. My favorite pink thong was moist until I took it off to get in the bath tub. I turned on some soft, sensual music and lit one of my aromatherapy candles to help me relax. I decided I was going to wash my hair and shave my legs to try and keep my mind off of sex. It seemed like every ten or fifteen minutes my coochie would take control of my brain and force me to fantasize about the guy I saw earlier. I wondered if he was as interested in me as I was in him. I was curious to find out if he had a girlfriend or if he was dating anyone. But the biggest question was strictly about his anatomy. How big is it? I know my pussy wouldn’t be acting like this over a dude with a little dick!
After I finished taking my bath, I turned on my flat iron and changed the channel to BET so I could watch 106th and Park while I got ready for the party. I sifted through the bags I brought in from the mall and tried to figure out what I was going to wear. I really wanted to turn heads so I decided to go with my black Express mini skirt and my sequined halter top to show off my stomach. I was so happy I had finally built up the nerve to get my belly button pierced. When I got finished curling my hair and putting the finishing touches on my outfit, it was only eight-forty-five. I still had forty-five minutes before April said she was going to be here to pick me up.
I decided this would be perfect for some “me” time. I went to my panty drawer and pulled my Climax 100 out of her little hiding spot. This was the miniature vibrator I won at my cousin’s bachelorette party a few months ago. I couldn’t believe this little thing could make me have such intense orgasms. I made sure my door was locked, leaned back on my bed and hiked up my skirt. I spread my legs and used my left thumb to pull my Victoria’s Secret g-string to the side just enough to expose myself. I rubbed the tip of it up and down my special lips until I felt the juices start flowing. I pressed the power button on the Climax and slowly pressed it against my clit. The little buzz it made always reminded me of my fish tank back home. My body immediately responded to the sensations of pleasure that surged throughout my body.
I could feel my breathing turn into a slow pant and my heartbeat increasing with every passing second. Every rise and fall of my chest pushed me one step closer to a monster orgasm. To make the mood even better, my favorite video “You Don’t Know My Name” by Alicia Keys came on and gave me a rhythm to grind my hips to. I closed my eyes and fantasized about the boy from earlier kissing my thighs and rubbing on my pussy. I continued to grind my hips to the rhythm of the song as I felt an orgasm building deep within me. I was literally on cloud nine quickly approaching a mind shattering orgasm when I was rudely interrupted.
Knock, knock.
“Open up girl it’s me.”
Oh shit. My heart was racing like I was being chased by the police! April had arrived a few minutes early and caught me completely off guard. I jumped up off my bed, turned off my love machine and threw it back in the drawer that it resided in. When I turned around and saw my bed, I could have killed myself. Think fast, don’t panic; was all I could tell myself to calm me down. I grabbed two of my pillows and placed them over the biggest wet spot I have ever seen in my life. It should be against the law to be this damn horny.
“Open up the door Tracy!” April shouted through my dorm room door.
I pulled my skirt down and unlocked the door.
“I’ll be ready in a second,” I said as I made a dash to my bathroom.
I can’t believe I’m this wet, I thought to myself as I wiped my womanly juices from my thighs. My panties were soaked and I didn’t want April to see what I had in my panty drawer so I did the best I could in a bad situation. I took my panties off, hid them under the sink and headed to the party. I decided right then to move off of campus and get an apartment. I didn’t want this to happen ever again.

We left for the party a little before eleven. Chris had to change clothes three or four times before we left the crib. You would think he was some kind of model or something. I only owned one or two club-worthy outfits so I never had problems like that; most of the time I just wore the first thing I pulled from out of my closet. I figured clothes weren’t that important anyway. Any girl that was worth my time would see how fly I was no matter what I had on.
Once we got in the car we went through our usual pre-party routine. Get something to drink. Get something to smoke. We had to strategically plan it so that we would have a real nice buzz by the time we got there. It cost way too much money trying to get drunk in a club. Six dollars for every drink then on top of that you have to tip. That is in direct conflict with my college student budget.
“Stop so we can get some cigars,” I said as we approached the Shell station near campus. He quickly switched lanes and pulled into the parking lot. He hopped out of the car and strutted towards the store entrance.
Chris came back to the car with two twenty-four ounce Budweisers, that we just call twenty-fours, and two sour apple Phillies. I grabbed the purple Crown Royal bag we kept the weed in and started to roll a blunt.
“I roll like a pro, huh?” I sarcastically asked once I got the first blunt finished.
“That crooked ass witch finger! You lucky I don’t beat your ass and make you roll another one,” Chris said as he playfully started to punch me in my chest.
I fired up the blunt and took a few puffs as Chris fumbled through his CD case to find some suitable music.
“You heard that Lloyd Banks?” he asked as he came across one of his newest CDs.
“Naw, but I heard it was tight. Put it in.”
By the time we made it to the party, I was high as hell and I still had half of my twenty-four left. It was against our religion to waste alcohol so I quickly guzzled down the rest of the beer and headed for the party. I had overheard several girls talking about the party earlier so I figured it was going to be crunk.
“Damn, man look at this line. I told your stupid ass we should have left a long time ago!” I yelled at Chris.
“You must have forgotten you were with Chris ‘The King’ Clasper. When you’re a V-I-P you don’t have to wait on shit. Follow me,” he said as he headed towards the side entrance.
Five minutes later we were making our way through the crowed party. Chris knew the guys that were working the door so we didn’t have to pay, let alone wait in line. The party reminded me of a scene straight out of a music video. The DJ booth was set up on a stage in the far corner of the room. There were so many people inside that everybody was standing shoulder-to-shoulder. The women were dressed in their most revealing attire. You couldn’t look in any direction without getting a glimpse of some tits and ass. This is my kind of party, I thought to myself as I made my way through the crowd searching for some potential pussy.
I was walking back toward the front door looking for Chris when I spotted the girl from earlier laughing with some of her girlfriends. I figured this would probably be my best chance to talk to her and find out what she was about.
I hated having to approach women when they were around their friends. This just adds a list of complications to a difficult situation. Most of the time the girl that didn’t get picked feels it is her duty to prevent her friend from getting any play so she devotes herself to cock blocking. Another problem that I’ve noticed is that women always try to front for their friends when they’re approached like that. I know girls that are stoned cold sluts but the only way to meet the slut is if she’s by herself. Maybe they feel like they have to get their friends’ approval before she can accept some dick from you.
I saw her friend head towards the rest room so I had to capitalize on my window of opportunity. I put my brain in pimp mode and moved in on my prey.
“Hey, how are you doin’? I’m Mark. I thought I saw you earlier today by the Mini-Dome. Was that you?” I threw out there to get the conversation started. I knew it was her but I just had to play that role.
“Yeah that was me,” she replied with a cute little smile.
Once you get the smile, you know you’re making progress.
“I was trying to catch up with you but by the time I got over to your car, you were burnin’ out. I thought you were trying to get away from me.”
This time we both laughed.
“It wasn’t even like that. I didn’t know you were coming to talk to me. I was just ready to go home,” she replied.
“What did you say your name was again”, I slipped in between giggles?
“I’m sorry, I am so rude. My name is Tracy”, she replied as she continued to laugh at my previous comment.
I could tell by her body language that she was comfortable around me. We spent the next few minutes chit chatting before I asked her to take it to the dance floor.
She took me by the hand and led me to the heart of the party like she was waiting for me to ask her that. We were having a good time bumpin’ and grindin’ to everything from Juvenile’s “Back That Ass Up” to Ludacris’ “Stand Up.” Tracy was definitely putting on an exhibition for me. She showed me all the different ways she knew how to pop her ass. I made sure I put her hands on my chest so she could see how firm I was. Girls go crazy when they see my six pack. She was bent over dropping it to the floor when I realized that I didn’t see a panty line. I had to do a little investigating so I rubbed my hands up and down her hips to confirm my suspicions. I was right. Tracy just got added to my roster.
We continued to get our groove on until the DJ announced that the party was about to end. I led her off of the dance floor so we could say our goodbyes and exchange phone numbers. I put her home and cell numbers in my Nextel and told her I would be in touch. When I got back to the car, I sent a text message to her phone: “Somebody forgot her panties tonight.”

I felt like I was the luckiest girl on Earth. I had just signed the lease to my new apartment and received the news that I was being considered for an intern position at a local hip-hop radio station. Over fifty people had applied for the position so I didn’t think I had a good chance of being chosen. Not that I’m pessimistic, I just knew the odds were against me. Fortunately they narrowed the search down to ten people that they were interested in and I was one of them. All I had to do was make a favorable impression during my interview.
I made sure I left early so I would have plenty of time to find a parking spot. Downtown traffic was ridiculous, especially on Monday mornings. There were a million and one bad drivers on the road, and ninety-nine percent of them were probably running late. I was cruising on the interstate when I realized the girl at McDonald’s forgot to put my hash browns in my bag again. It wasn’t anything major, but this was the third time they had messed up my order. I made a mental note to call and complain to a manager as soon as I made it back home. When I made it to the Constant Communication office building, I was pleased to see that they had their own parking garage. I was still a couple of minutes early so I figured I would finish up my breakfast and go wait in the lobby.
I entered the building and walked up to the receptionist’s desk. I informed her that I had an appointment with the promotion department. She pointed me towards a reception area and told me it would be about ten to fifteen minutes before someone would be down to see me. Good thing this was a radio station. Most companies have a collection of the world’s most boring magazines for you to read while you wait. They had the ones that I really liked. The coffee table was covered with issues of Jet, Vibe and The Source.
Troy Vincent was a twenty-six-year-old promotions executive at WUNO 99.9. He was a little over six feet with smooth mocha skin, nice defined arms and a smile that seemed to get my panties wetter with every passing second. When he stepped off of the elevator and looked in my direction, I felt like a girl in elementary school with a crush on her gym teacher. If he couldn’t tell that I was instantly attracted to him, he was either blind or gay.
I was so happy I decided to wear my favorite Express skirt with my Bandolino pumps. Dressing sexy always gave me the confidence I needed to shine during interviews. I figured my looks had a fifty-fifty chance of making or breaking me. Most women who interviewed me seemed to treat being a sexy black female like having a felony on my background check. No matter how professional or polite I answered the questions, I always seemed to take giant leaps towards their bad side. In those situations, I just had to rely on my outstanding resume and my great references to get me in the door.
Now, when I was being interviewed by somebody of the opposite sex there were completely different circumstances. Once they saw my ass and got a sniff of my designer perfume, they were eating out the palm of my hand and probably thinking about eating something else on my body. It was almost like I could see their dicks swelling in their pants. All I had to do was smile, keep the conversation going and give them a few different views of my thighs to get what I wanted. In order to make it in this day and age, a woman has to know how to make her sexuality work for her.
“Good morning, I’m Troy Vincent. You must be Tracy,” he said as he flashed his million dollar smile at me.
“Yes, I am. Nice to meet you, Mr. Vincent,” I replied as I stood up and shook his hand. I wanted to be as professional as I could.
“You can call me Troy. I’m only twenty-six,” he said as he looked at me from head to toe.
It was obvious that he liked what he saw. He mentioned that he liked my nails and directed me to the elevator. Once I got a good view of Troy, I could see that he was definitely my type. His hands were nice and manicured, his hair was smooth and wavy, and his chest and shoulders made him look like a super hero. I swear he had my panties moist before the doors on the elevator closed.
We exited on the twelfth floor and headed down a long hall towards his office. The walls were decorated with pictures of various musicians and plaques from the albums they had sold. The layout was pretty fly. Everything seemed to go together perfectly. The building looked more like a condominium than a corporate office. When he opened the door, I was in awe. The first thing I noticed was the incredible view he had of the entire city. He had a nice cherry wood desk and a wall full of plaques, awards, and certificates. He definitely had his shit together. The most important thing that I noticed was there were no pictures of women anywhere in his office, so at least he was single.
For me, the next thirty to forty minutes was a complete blur. I made myself comfortable in the soft leather seat he asked me to sit in, got into my business-handling posture, and in no time flat, my mind was completely in the gutter. All I could think about was how much fun we could have in an office like his. All kinds of X-rated images popped into my head. I visualized Troy having me bent over his desk while he fucked my brains out. I pictured myself giving him some of the best head of his life while he was on a conference call. I was so caught up in my fantasies that I didn’t even realize the interview was over until he stood up, handed me his business card, and thanked me for my time. He said that he would be making his decision within the next few days and then offered to walk me back to the elevator. I made sure to walk in front of him so he could get a clear view of what I was workin’ with. If I had anything to do with it, this would not be my last time seeing Mr. Vincent.

Talk about job benefits. I couldn’t believe I was making over eighty grand a year for the work I do. This was only my second week since I hand been promoted to promotions director at the radio station. I had already been invited to an album release party for Lil’ Wayne and met over ten celebrities since I moved to Louisiana. Nobody back home would believe this was my life. New job, new crib, new Beamer … life was good.
I had always been fairly successful with the ladies but my stock had risen so much over the past year or so it didn’t seem realistic. Women at clubs and bars started sending me drinks and offering to take me out to eat. Now, why couldn’t this have been happening back when I could barely afford my own damn drinks? I guess life is funny like that. The ladies at the gym near my condo started going out of their way to speak and get noticed. But the biggest changes were coming from the women at work. I’ve always been pretty reserved and private so I didn’t think half of them had a clue as to who I was.But judging by the e-mails I had been receiving, they did a lot more than notice me. Some were cute simple notes, but some were X-rated applications for dick. The crazy thing about it was the freakiest messages came from the women that were married or had serious boyfriends.
I was walking through the parking garage when I saw some of the guys from the third floor headed toward the elevator. They were talking about the Kobe Bryant rape case and how women would do anything to get some money. That topic always seemed to get me fired up, so I quickly added my two cents in.
“There are thousands of women that would break their necks to give Kobe some pussy. He doesn’t have to rape anybody!”
We continued our conversation until the elevator stopped on their floor. I told the guys I would catch up with them as they exited the elevator. As I continued up to the twelfth floor, I started thinking about all the things I needed to get done today. Our program manager loved to schedule meetings early on Mondays for some strange reason. And on top of my usual duties, I had to start interviewing for our department intern this week. I walked to my office and checked my messages and e-mails that I had collected over the weekend.
I was working non-stop for almost two hours before my secretary informed me that one of my scheduled interviews arrived a little early. Time flies when you’re working hard. I closed all the programs on my computer, straightened up my desk and headed down to the lobby to get this interview over with.
As soon as I stepped off the elevator and saw who was waiting on me, my whole mood changed. We got plenty of time to do this interview I thought to myself as I made my way across the lobby area. This chick was off the chain! She had long black hair with a few blond highlights that complemented her complexion perfectly. Her face was smooth and almond shaped and she had the cutest little dimple on her left cheek. I barely noticed it. She could probably model for a Dove commercial. To be honest, she looked more like a runway model than a potential intern. I didn’t want her to catch me staring so I quickly introduced myself.
“Good morning, I’m Troy Vincent. You must be Tracy,” I said as I flashed a smile at her.
“Yes, I am. Nice to meet you, Mr. Vincent,” she replied as she stood up to shake my hand.
“You can call me Troy. I’m only twenty-six,” I replied as I looked down at her hand and noticed that she was sporting a fresh French manicure.
“I like your nails,” I mentioned flirtatiously as I lead her to the elevator.
I made small talk as we headed up the elevator and actually noticed her checking me out. I knew she could smell my Curve cologne because I made sure I sprayed some on that morning just before I left for work. What a great decision, I told myself. By the time we made it up to my floor I learned that she was originally from Kansas City and her older cousin worked for Prime Time Records up in Memphis.
For the next forty-five minutes, I struggled with explaining the intern position and trying to catch glimpses of her cleavage. In between questions I made sure to smile and tried to make eye contact so she could see that I was interested, and not just professionally. It is so hard to stay focused with a rock hard erection sitting in your lap. But somehow, someway I managed to make it through the interview with only a few mishaps.
I concluded the interview and handed her one of my cards before I offered to walk her back to the elevator. I did that for two reasons: one I wanted her to see that I was a gentleman and I didn’t mind doing the little things that women like. The second and most important reason was I had to get a good look at that ass! The skirt she had on fit her perfect with a capitol “P.” The way her butt cheeks jiggled with each step let me know she had to be wearing either a thong or a g-string. It was moments like this that I wished I had X-ray vision like Superman.
Once she stepped onto the elevator I told her goodbye and that she would be hearing from me within the next few days. She probably thought I wanted to talk about the intern position, but I just needed some time to get my game together. It was very clear that Tracy was the type of woman you had to come at correct or you don’t stand a chance.