Bad Luck Black Money (25 page)

Chapter
35

College was a fresh start, and Esmerelda was determined to change her sexual predatory ways. But fate had other plans for her, when she audited a feminist studies class taught by Professor Judy Cherry.

Judy was in her late forties, dressed in the latest fashions, and was on a first-name basis with her plastic surgeon. She justified her large breast implants by saying that she needed them to lift her self-esteem, not for men to leer at. The same sex fetish that Esmerelda was cursed with, was shared by the professor with one small twist. Judy hungered for the big kielbasa but only when it hung between the legs of an African-American man. She loathed white men.

Professor Cherry had the unusual ability to judge the size of a man's penis with only a glance at the bulge in his pants. It made no difference if he wore slacks, jeans, or cargo shorts, she was always correct on its length and girth. After exhaustive studies funded with taxpayer dollars, Judy was able to replicate her innate ability with a scientific formula, which she then shared with only her closest friends.

Hoping to find more kindred spirits, the Professor would chum the waters of her classes with tidbits of information. Every so often, a new student would ask for more information on her penis sizing skills, then she would judge if her student were worthy of her attention or not. Esmerelda fell into Judy's trap on her very first day in the Professor's classroom. A twisted friendship was formed almost instantly between the two women.

Judy Cherry had a little black book, full of men with ginormous schlongs. For the well-endowed Professor, their services were free. However, for her beauty challenged protégé, most men would charge around two hundred dollars per pop, on average.

Like countless whoremongers before her, Esmerelda learned that all whores are not created equal. Some guys brought their 'A' game and rocked her world. Others wanted the money up front, then did as little as possible, and left as soon as possible. And just like strippers who'd stayed in the business too long, half were gay.

Four years later, Esmerelda was on the verge of burning out. Her mind was still as sharp as ever, and she was working on her doctoral thesis. But her last man-whore couldn't keep it up, even with cocaine up his nose and a butt-plug up his ass. She was disgusted and humiliated by the situation with the flaccid man-whore, and most of all... with herself.

Sensing that her partner in debauchery was losing her appetite for the big dick, Professor Cherry decided her prized pupil needed to get away from it all for a while. Nothing clears the mind like a long road trip, so they took Judy's red Camaro and headed north. The trip was working its magic for Esmerelda's spirit until they stopped at a biker bar for a drink.

The two women were sitting at a table, drinking a pitcher of beer when he walked through the door. Almost six and a half feet tall, dressed from head to toe in black leather, a movie star face, and a physique that would make Hercules jealous. And it didn't take a genius to see that he had a giant, bologna-shaped rod pressing against his left thigh.

Even a five-dollar, crack-whore would hesitate to straddle that one-eyed monster, but Judy and Esmerelda were wiping the drool from their chins. Normally, Professor Cherry would pass on the biker because he appeared to only be half black. However, she was willing to overlook it, just this once, for his one in a million dick.

As the bronze Adonis stepped to the bar to get himself a beer, Esmerelda reminded herself that he was way out of her league. Besides, she only had enough money to last for the rest of her trip. But it didn't cost anything to daydream.

Beauford Saladino spotted the two chicks leering at him from the corner of the room. It wasn't a new experience for him. Women always wanted him, men too. Problem was, when it was time for the rubber to meet the road, most couldn't take his member. It drove him mad, and he decided that this time, "One of those two cunts, over there, is going to suffer".

Beauford ordered a pitcher and took it over to the ladies' table. "Mind if I sit with you two lovely ladies?" he asked.

"Not at all, handsome," replied Judy, as she pulled out a chair between herself and Esmerelda. "Sit close, so we can smell your musk."

"Now, that's what I'm talkin' 'bout," said the biker. He sat down with a sly smile on his lips.

The next few minutes were spent making casual, flirty conversation. Saladino tried not to be obvious, while he looked the women over.

He thought, "The old, bleached blonde with the big fake knockers is the better looking of the pair, but she has to be pushing sixty. An old woman might drop dead before I'm finished using her. The young, red head is uglier than dog shit, but I don't plan on looking at her face much anyway. But then again, bitch don't have any ass, so the fucking won't be no good... decisions, decisions."

Esmerelda felt warm sensations rushing all though her body. The handsome devil was flirting with her as much as he was with Judy. In a strange way, the thrill of being wanted was even better than actually having sex. No one had ever pursued her before, without getting paid to. If her vagina had its way, she'd be screwing him right then, on the floor in front of a bar full of strangers.

Judy Cherry found herself drawn to the leather-clad outlaw, and it wasn't only because of the massive meat monster packed inside of his tight pants. Beauford was being charitable to her girlfriend, with some pity flirtation. It almost convinced her to rethink the vitriolic hatred she felt for all white devil men... nah.

Saladino's twisted brain was computing all the information that his potential victims were feeding it. He thought, "The old skank doesn't have any close family. The ugly bitch has two, well-known professor parents. The blonde cunt works out, three times a week. The orange cunt never went to a gym a day in her life, and she's coughed three times already.... Decisions, decisions."

Excusing herself from the table, Esmerelda went to the ladies bathroom. The restroom was small and dingy. But it had the most important feature of any facility at that moment, a functional, deadbolt lock. She locked the door with one hand and pulled down her pants and panties with the other.

With all the little flirtations, all the little gentle touches on her arms, the biker had created a gusher between Esmerelda's legs. She knew that someone must have heard 'sloshing' sounds as she walked to the bathroom, but she didn't care. She needed instant relief, and as her fingers played a manic guitar solo on her clitoris, orgasm after orgasm washed over her convulsing body.... Sweet relief.

While Esmerelda looked for some tissue paper in the dirty, under stocked restroom, she wished there was an easier way to 'get off'. She'd tried every vibrator and dildo on the market, but nothing worked as well as human contact, even if it was by her own hand. Since there was nothing in the room that she would consider touching her vagina with, she splashed some sink water on her sex and drip-dried.

Returning to her table, Esmerelda saw Saladino and Cherry rising to their feet, hand-in-hand. It appeared Beauford had made his choice.

Judy handed Esmerelda her car keys after getting a small bag from the Camaro's trunk and told Esmerelda to continue the road trip solo. She was going to spend the rest of her vacation time with Beauford, camping and fucking his brains out.

As Saladino and Judy peeled out of the parking lot, Judy turned and gave her protégé a quick wave goodbye. Esmerelda got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her highly educated friend knew the risk she was taking. And if the big dicked biker had, by some miracle, picked Esmerelda, there was no doubt she would have done the same thing as Professor Cherry.

"Oh, well," said Esmerelda aloud, as she opened the door to Judy's Camaro. "I hope she has fun."

Wind whipping through her hair, vibrations from the Suzuki GSF 1200 Bandit tickling her in the right spot, and her arms wrapped around the six-pack abs of a demigod, Judy was on cloud nine. She didn't know their exact destination. She wondered if the small, overnight bag draped over her shoulder, had sufficient clean underwear inside of it. But she held onto Beauford a little tighter and all was right with the world.

They exchanged paved roads for national park dirt roads. Looking around at the trees flying past her, Professor Cherry waxed poetic about the beauty of the countryside versus the endless, suburban blight of cities. The thought that she was completely lost, entered her mind, but she tossed it aside because this big, brave man would protect her from all harm. Never mind the concept of a male protector was blatantly antifeminist.

Soon the dirt road gave way to no road at all. They were riding through tall grass, in-between trees, and smashing through dense underbrush. A dirt bike would have been a better choice for the kamikaze road course they were blazing, but somehow the Suzuki was plowing onward. To calm herself, Judy would brush her hand over Saladino's pant leg, where his massive penis lay, and then everything was rosy.

Finally, they rode up through the middle of a small creek to a small clearing, surrounded by dense vegetation. Beauford must have been living there for quite some time because a tent was already pitched and a ring of large rocks were set up for a campfire.

"Here we are," said Beauford, as he slid off his hawg. "I hope you like it here."

"I do! I do," Judy said enthusiastically. "It's so wonderful to be out in nature."

"Say, you wouldn't happen to have a cell phone, would you?" Beauford asked. "Mine doesn't get any signal out here, and I need to give my mother a call. Just to let her know I'm alright."

"Aren't you sweet," said Judy. She pulled her phone out of the overnight bag and handed it to Beauford.

Beauford glanced briefly at its screen, then drew his arm back, and threw it with all his might, far into the woods.

Professor Judy Cherry's life flashed before her eyes at that very moment. A sick feeling swept over her body, and she knew that she was as good as dead.

The next three days were right out of a horror movie. Judy wasn't able to put up much of a fight against the beast called Beauford Saladino. He was a monster, who loved nothing more than inflicting the vilest of pains and hearing the cries and screams of his latest victim.

By the end of the third day, Judy (a staunch atheist) was saying prayers for a quick death. She lay on the ground, unable to move, awaiting the inevitable. Death was on its way.

Beauford was sad. He had broken his favorite toy beyond repair, and it was no longer any fun playing with her. He picked up a large stone from the ring of stones surrounding the campfire. The rock was colored black with ash. He walked over to Judy.

Through bloody eyes, she looked up at him towering above her and tried to say something, but no words would come out. However, she did manage to scream, one last time, before Beauford smashed her skull open with a single blow.... Mercifully, her agony had come to an end.

Saladino stood there, looking down at the woman, who he'd just murdered. He breathed in deeply and closed his eyes. He wanted to etch this moment in his brain, permanently. But right then, two camouflaged men walked into his camp, brandishing shotguns.

Judy's last scream had drawn the attention of the two hunters, who happened to be trekking close by at that moment. Beauford was standing over his victim, splattered with droplets of her blood. He'd literally, been caught, red-handed.

One of the hunters wanted to blow Beauford's head off with his 10-gauge shotgun then walk away. The other wanted to turn Beauford over to the cops. Beauford Saladino dropped to his knees, begging and crying for his life, like a little bitch.

A game of 'rock, paper, scissors' decided his fate. The 'kill him now' guy went rock, and the 'turn him over to cops' guy threw paper. Beauford got lucky.

Beauford Saladino's grandmother was a wealthy woman, who'd made her fortune through shrewd investments in the stock market. She hired the best defense attorneys available, and Beauford got lucky once more. They made a plea-bargain for sixty years in prison with the possibility of parole. With good behavior, he'd be out in less than half of that.

When Esmerelda learned the details of her friend's demise, it shook her to the core. She wouldn't leave her childhood bedroom inside of her parents' house for a month. And when she finally did leave, she swore to herself that she would never again be a slave to the big dick.

The rickshaw came to a stop, and Esmerelda awakened from her self-reflection. They had arrived at the stables. A stable boy greeted them and held a riding suit in his arms for Esmerelda.

"You have my size?" asked Esmerelda.

"Yes, ma'am," said the stable boy. "Please, allow me to show you to the changing room, ma'am."

The Duchess's maid spoke up, "If you no longer need me, I'll return to my mistress."

"Go," ordered Esmerelda, who was becoming accustomed to having every whim, catered to.

As she followed the wiry, young lad, she noted how the place didn't smell of horseshit. Every stable she'd ever been to, smelled like horseshit, but not this one. Then she spotted the reason why. Each horse had its own spacious stall with live, green grass growing out of the ground and a human attendant, who rushed to pick up any droppings as soon as they fell out of the horse. It was luxury, which had to look in the rearview mirror for mere decadence.