Lifestyles of the Rich and Shameless Read online

  Eric smiled and raced around to the passenger side of the Range. “See y’all niggahs later,” he yelled out. I laughed as I looked at the jealous, hungry-looking faces of his street counterparts.

  “Where we going, Daddy?” I asked seductively. I knew damn well where we were going. It wasn’t a secret what Eric and I did each time we were together now. I didn’t mind at all either.

  “Our regular spot,” Eric said as he leaned over and looked into the backseat of the car. He was giving it the once-over like he still couldn’t believe it. “This shit right here is tight. You need to be careful rolling through the hood in this shit though. It ain’t safe in these parts. Niggahs will definitely carjack your little ass for a ride like this,” he warned. I waved him off like he was being ridiculous.

  “They know I’m your girl. They won’t mess with me,” I replied.

  Eric started laughing. Then he mimicked my words with a proper accent, which was the total opposite of how he regularly spoke. “Yo, you sound like a straight white chick. You look like a spoiled rich girl. Come the fuck on. Please, Megan, don’t be stupid. Them hungry niggahs will do your ass in and send your body home to your daddy in a minute. Basically, you need me,” he said, turning his head toward the window. He had shut me down. Sometimes he could be so cruel. I hated when he was mad at me or wasn’t speaking to me. I always wanted to keep him happy. I was nervous now. If Eric was mad at me things wouldn’t be right. I had to fix it. We drove in silence, both of us thinking.

  Eric Chambers was my new man. I had met him at a party one of the nights that I was supposed to be spending at Krista’s house. Eric was a tall, dark, handsome, six foot, chocolate specimen of a man. He was ten years older than me so I knew I could never take him home to my parents. He also wasn’t exactly the type of man my parents had envisioned for me either. Eric had done hard prison time and was a petty drug dealer, but I was full on in love with him. His dick was thick and it was good. At twenty-one, I was as sexually adept as a forty-year-old woman. At least I thought so. I had had sex with plenty little boys in my private school. I had even fucked a few of my father’s older business associates, but there was nothing that could compare to Eric’s dick and the way he ate my pussy out every single time we were together. I was clearly in love. I never wanted to be apart from him and I made sure I saw him every day. My parents thought I was in classes at college, but I didn’t have time for school. In my assessment, I didn’t need a college education. I was a Rich!

  “Where you going?” Eric asked, breaking our silence. He had seen me pass our usual luxury hotel rendezvous spot.

  “It’s a surprise,” I said, smiling at him. I was just glad he was speaking to me again.

  “I gotta get back out there to get some paper so I don’t really have time for surprises today,” he said, annoyed. I knew what that meant. He was always threatening me with leaving and going back out on the street. Eric knew how to hit me where it counted.

  “Look in my bag. There is enough money in there to take care of you for today,” I said nervously. I didn’t want to think about him breaking up our time together. He knew it too. This wasn’t the first time he made me feel anxious enough to give up some cash to keep him with me.

  “Nah ... I ain’t taking your money,” he said.

  I knew he was lying. I sucked my teeth. I stopped the car and grabbed my Hermès Birkin bag. I dug inside and pulled out a wad of cash.

  “I think this is about eight hundred dollars ... my daytime spending money. You can have it. I will go get more after we leave our spot,” I said, forcefully pushing the cash in Eric’s direction. He looked at me and, feigning reluctance, he took the money ... just like I knew he would. I mean, how could he refuse, pussy and money?

  “Make sure you hit me off with more later. This ain’t enough. I’m sayin’ I make this in an hour outside beatin’ that block,” Eric said. I believed him too. There were so many fiends running around the part of Virginia Beach that he lived in it was not even funny.

  I finally pulled the Range up to Reed’s, a well-known, high-end jewelry store in Virginia. Eric looked at me strangely.

  “This was my surprise. I got a gift today and I want to give you one,” I said. I bent over and kissed his thick lips. “It’s my birthday, but I want to make you happy too. C’mon,” I demanded playfully. I rushed out of the car.

  Eric got out of the car in silence. I grabbed his arm and we walked into Reed’s arm in arm like a married couple. That shit made me feel so grown up. When we got inside, the old white lady behind the counter gave Eric a once-over and kind of turned up her nose. I squinted my eyes at her evilly. This wrinkled bitch didn’t know who she was fucking with. I hated when people automatically stereotyped people and thought they didn’t have money. I knew what to do to fix that bitch. I walked over to the watch case.

  “Excuse me, ma’am. I want that thirty-five millimeter, mother-of-pearl face, Oyster Perpetual Rolex, please,” I sang. The woman’s face dropped. She was so surprised that I knew the name and style of such an expensive watch without even flinching. Little did she know my father had at least five different Rolexes. The woman slowly moved toward the watch counter, still seemingly taken aback, but she knew her commission depended on me.

  “Honey, extend your wrist so she can fit it on,” I said snidely, holding eye contact with the woman. Eric raised one eyebrow but he didn’t hesitate to stretch his arm out. The old woman’s hands were shaking as she fiddled with the watch and Eric’s arm. She widened her eyes when she saw all of his tattoos. I was laughing inside. This lady was probably in brain overload trying to figure us out. Once Eric had the watch on I grabbed his arm to examine it. I sized it up, moving it into the light so I could see better or more like so I could rub the shit in her old wrinkled face.

  “Do you like this one?” I asked Eric.

  “You damn right. This shit right here is tight business,” he said, putting his arm in several different angles so he could see how it looked.

  “We’ll take it,” I said, slamming my American Express plum card down on the counter. The old woman looked like she would faint. “Oh, did you need identification?” I asked, before the old bitch could even try to make a case that we were there to commit credit card fraud. She couldn’t even get her words out before I flicked my driver’s license at her. The old woman rushed around the counter trying to ring up my purchase. I walked over to the diamond showcase and picked out a bracelet for myself. I didn’t need it, nor did I really want it, but I had a point to prove. After the lady rang everything up and handed me my $14,000 receipt, I scribbled my name and smirked at her.

  “You should never judge a book by its cover ... bitch!” I snapped as I snatched my bag and turned my back on her.

  “You a wild girl, Megan. That ol’ bitch ain’t know what to do,” Eric laughed. I was glad he was smiling.

  “Now off to the Westin ... I need some of that good good,” I said to him sweetly. All was good now.

  I could barely keep my hands off Eric as we kissed and fumbled with each other’s clothes until we almost fell into the hotel room. I was hot and wanted him so badly. He backed me up until I was on the luxurious, king-sized, heavenly bed that only Westin was known for. Eric had his tongue almost down my throat. I was moaning, hot and heavy. He practically ripped my shirt off me and exposed my perfect tits.

  “Wait ... you need these,” he said, stopping to pull a little packet of ex out of his pocket. Eric knew just what I needed to take me over the top. I laughed and grabbed the pills from him. I raced over to the little wet bar and cracked open one of the four-dollar bottles of water they beat you in the head for. I took three ecstasy pills this time, when I usually only took two.

  “Whoa, whoa ... Don’t be OD-ing on those shits,” Eric warned.

  I sexily began removing my jeans as if I was doing a striptease for him. I wanted the pills to hurry up and take effect so when he touched me it would feel electrifying. Eric stepped out of his jeans and pulled hi
s boxers off too. I smiled. I dropped to my knees and crawled over to him like a lioness. He had his ten-inch hunk of manhood in his hand and I put my face right up on it. Eric swiped his dick across my lips, teasing me. I sat back on my feet like a dog ready to beg. He laughed. I started feeling real tingly. The pills were taking hold. I liked my lips seductively and then let a glob of saliva fall from my mouth onto his dick.

  “Yeah,” he whispered. His words even sent chills over my body. Now the ex was in full effect. I opened my mouth wide and took every inch of his dick inside my hot lips. I gagged a little bit as Eric grabbed my head forcefully and began fucking my face.

  “Mmm,” I moaned. I could feel my pussy pulsating. I wanted him and I wanted him badly. I moved up and down on his dick vigorously. He was moving his hips as well.

  “Urgh,” he growled. I knew what that meant. I moved off him for a minute.

  “Cum in my mouth,” I moaned out.

  “Open it now!” he grumbled, and his legs seemed to get weak. I took him back into my mouth. “Aggghh!” he belted out as he let a hot load of cum into the back of my throat. I pulled his dick out and opened my mouth so he could see that his cum was on my tongue. Then I closed my eyes and swallowed it all. I licked my lips like a real porn star.

  “You get down like a grown-ass woman,” Eric huffed.

  I got up and got on the bed. I looked at him as I let my legs scissor open. Eric knew what that meant. He bent down and buried his face right in my pussy. I swear his mouth sent a million needle stabs of hot sparks all over me.

  “Y-e-s!” I hissed. I was moving my head in circles because the ecstasy had me “rolling” now and I couldn’t help it. All of my senses were heightened. Eric was devouring my clit. Then he moved his head down and inserted his tongue deep into my pussy hole. “This is why I won’t ever let your ass go!” I screamed. I was panting now. I was pushing my pussy onto his tongue with vigor. “Mmmm,” I moaned out. I could feel an orgasm welling up inside me. Just as I was about to cum, Eric stopped. I popped my eyes open, but before I could complain he drove his dick into me so hard my pussy made a loud farting noise. Eric began slamming into me and it hurt so damn good.

  “Whose pussy is this, rich girl?” he huffed. At first I didn’t answer. My tongue and my brain weren’t even on the same page. But, the more I kept my answer to myself the harder Eric pounded into me. “I said whose pussy is this, rich girl?” he barked. My words got caught in my throat. He slammed even harder into my pelvis.

  “It’s yours, Eric! It’s your pussy!” I screamed out after my brain finally sent the message to my tongue. Every nerve in my body could be felt. It felt so good. I don’t know how I ever had sex in the past without the use of ecstasy. “Ahhhh!” I screamed as I busted my own nut. Eric followed right after. He collapsed next to me. When his dick fell out of my sloppy wet pussy, I got up and jumped right back on it.

  “Damn ... you’re like a fuckin’ fiend when you on that ex ... a niggah can’t keep up with you, rich girl,” he huffed and puffed.

  “That’s okay ... I can keep up with you though,” I whispered as I slid up and down on his dick. He smiled and let me take control. Just how I liked it.

  2

  My Fair Warning

  Two years had passed just like that. I was now twenty-three years old and under all types of pressure from my parents. They continued to make threats and I continued to do my thing. I would slow down for a minute, but as soon as they let their guard down I’d be back at it. Soon enough, every day was a constant power struggle with them. They were continuously hounding me about college and about learning to work the family business. The day my father found out I had been lying about attending college all of that time, he hit the fucking roof. Education was the single most important thing to his ass.

  Too bad I wasn’t interested in becoming the CEO of his fucking gas station and real estate empire. Why would I learn the business? I didn’t plan on working a day in my life. My father had seen to it that I wouldn’t have to, at least that’s what he always promised. I couldn’t understand why he was changing up the game on me and hounding me to go to school. Honestly, my main concern had become the boatloads of cash at my disposal and keeping Eric laced with cash and gifts. Making him happy in turn made me happy. I was used to living a life where I did as I pleased. My parents weren’t going to change that shit now.

  Unlike my parents, I was sure school just wasn’t my thing. I had no aspirations to go back, although I told my father that I had gone back for a few classes so I could keep him off my back. He wrote a check to the school and I got it right back in a refund since I didn’t register for any classes. I was also not interested in anything that remotely resembled or even seemed close to work. My job was to shop, hang out all night at nightclubs, get fucked by Eric, and trick a little dough on him so he stayed put. Period. Eric was now the regular driver of the Range and because of that very fact I got to see him much more often. We had been going strong for two years ... a miracle for me since I never had a man past three or four months. I must admit, being with Eric was like being in a money pit. I must’ve spent close to a million dollars on him in the first year we were together, so imagine the totality of the damage I had done in two years.

  BANG! BANG! “Megan! Open this door right now!”

  I was jolted out of an alcohol-induced sleep. I heard my father yelling from outside the estate guesthouse, which is where I had been residing for the past year. With my parents being extra strict and on my back, I had moved out of the main house so I’d have more privacy and freedom to come and go as I pleased. My father was banging on the door again like whatever he wanted couldn’t wait.

  “Ugghh,” I winced as the pounding in my head became readily apparent as soon as I forced my leaden eyelids open. He banged on the door again. The sound sent a reverberating quake through my skull.

  “Shhh,” I hissed, although I knew he couldn’t hear me. The feeling in my head and my stomach was what I would imagine near-death to feel like. Can you say hangover? I squinted and looked around. The room was semidark, all of the shades were pulled, which I was grateful for since the sun would’ve probably sent the sick feeling I was experiencing over the top. I touched my chest and legs as my father pounded again with even more force than the first time. I was still in my party clothes—a very skimpy miniskirt and an even skimpier tank. I couldn’t let him see me like that, but it was clear he wasn’t going away. Somehow he knew I was at home, although my car wasn’t parked outside.

  “Megan Rich! I’m giving you one minute!” he barked, hitting the door again.

  “Fuck!” I cursed with the incessant pounding in my head growing worse. I got up as fast as I could with that horrible headache and scrambled to the master bedroom for my robe. I couldn’t let him see me dressed like a damn streetwalker. I was a saint in my father’s eyes and that’s how I wanted to keep it. I rushed from the bedroom toward the sound of yet another barrage of door poundings. “I’m coming!” I screamed, but immediately regretted it when the pulsating in my head and the pain hit me. I pulled myself slowly through the house and barely made it to the door. I snatched it back with a mean scowl on my face. “Why are you banging on the door like you’re crazy?” I growled with my eyebrows furrowed.

  My father had the fist of his right hand balled up and something in his left hand. His face was contorted in a way I had probably never seen displayed before, except of course, when his stocks and investments took a dive. He looked scary as hell. I think I could safely say he was angrier than I’ve ever seen him before. He stormed his six-foot, two-inch, slightly overweight frame into the guesthouse, almost knocking me over. His cheeks were flamed over and his eyebrows were so furrowed together they looked almost like a unibrow.

  “We need to talk to you right this minute, young lady!” my father barked. That’s when I looked behind him and saw my mother standing there too. That wasn’t a good sign—the two of them coming together to speak to me. I could tell that my mother had
been crying. She had crumpled tissues in her hand and no makeup on. She never came outside, even to get her newspaper, without a face full of makeup. When I saw her, coupled with my father’s raging look, I knew some shit was up. Oh boy. What now? I said in my head.

  “Look at you! You can try to hide behind that robe all you want, your face tells it all. Mascara smeared all over your face ... look at you! You’ve been partying again, right? You’ve clearly been drinking and you smell!” my father continued his tirade.

  He was so close to my face that his breath was blowing straight up my nostrils and the stale cigar smell threatened to make me hurl. I stepped back from him and turned up my face in a rude display of disapproval. I rolled my eyes and flopped down in the recliner. I put my head down on the arm of the chair, letting them know I was not interested in the bullshit they were popping so early. I buried my nose in the arm of my robe and just listened to my father continue his rant. He was going on and on and I buried my face further and further. It was all I could do to keep from throwing up. My mother would chime in every so often.

  Finally, I grew tired of them and lifted my head up a little bit. I was trying to keep it together, but I couldn’t help but look at them like they were crazy. They never showed this much interest in me before. All of the questions they were throwing out there and all of the sudden parent concern was new to me. In fact, from the time I could remember, both of my parents were into their own worlds. They would take long, expensive trips and leave me with a nanny when I was younger. My mother would take me a few places here and there, but that wasn’t until I was much older. They threw money at me to keep me happy but they didn’t really spend that much time with me or tell me they loved me. I could never remember my parents taking me to birthday parties or family outings, aside from expensive trips, but even the nanny came on those and I would spend most of my time with her. My parents had fucking audacity. They didn’t have grounds to question me! They had made me into the monster that I was, so in my mind ... they were going to have to fucking deal with it.