Adrianna was 18 and knew she was hot. She had dark brown hair that hung below her shoulders and
wore sweats with a tight tank top and bare midriff that made it hard to avoid admiring her Survivor abs.
Her face was clear and beautiful which made it easy to miss the fear in her eyes.
Adrianna was tough. She grew up in Bed-Sty and never took shit from anybody. Once in her junior year in high school, on the subway returning from a football game, a guy in her algebra class started squeezing her thigh. She dumped her hot latte on him and punched him hard in the face. With most of the other guys at school it was different. She delighted in the horny way they looked at her and she’d let them slide their hands down her pants and touch her ass. It didn’t matter if she wasn’t attracted to them. How they loved her ass. And when her breasts grew larger she felt awesome. She’d let them suck her nipples as they massaged her ass and made her come. But the orgasms were nothing compared to the feeling she got when they gave in to her, the way she could manage them. Every day when she returned home, she’d savor her conquests – in the cafeteria, a supply closet, the boys’ locker room. The power she had over them. It was the best part of her homework.
Adrianna admired her father. He was tough and buff and riveted bolts on a New York City skyscraper. Part-time, he drove a garbage truck for the city. Once he told her you learn a lot about people from picking up their trash. He’d never finished high school but was clever enough to buy a rundown bar in Green Point, just before the neighborhood was invaded by people hungry for cheaper rents and more closet space. He made a shit load of money but blew most of it on drugs and gambling. When he was high, he had rough sex with Adrianna’s mother and sometimes beat her. It infuriated Adrianna when she had to listen to her mother’s cries and sobs at night. Her mother was weak and passive and resented Adrianna for being so much like her father. Adrianna could tell by the way her mother looked at her, with a mixture of resentment and disgust. She knew her mother hated her. That’s why it amused her when she lectured her mother on how to handle her father. “If you punched him hard in the face, just once,” she told her. “It’s a management problem.” Adrianna knew how to manage her father, not by punching him in the face but by letting him hug her and dry rub her ass and sometimes a lot more. The same strategy she used at school. When her mother finally left her father, Adrianna stayed with him because he told her he needed her. He’d also saved enough money to pay for her four years at NYU.
Adrianna met Carl at a theme party in his dorm. The theme that night was Gold Pros and Tennis Hos. She noticed him staring at her spread eagle, swiveling her hips on the dance floor. When he started to dance with her and cupped his hands around her ass she said, "You’re as subtle as a garbage truck.” “I can’t wait to own your gorgeous ass,” he answered.
She let him drag her to his room, excited by playing the sleazy slut. What turned her on most was the power she knew she had over him. She let him pull off her clothes and throw her down on the bed. When he moved to take her she flipped over suddenly and let him do doggy. She came quickly as he thrusted into her. Her pleasure was intensified by not having to look at him.
It was still dark when she woke up and realized she’d been so exhausted she spent the night with him. She sprang for her clothes as he stirred. As she was leaving, she couldn’t resist asking, “When are you going to take me home to daddy?” Before he could answer, she sat on the bed and massaged his penis until he came. When she got up to leave, he followed her but she escaped before he could touch her.
“Better than high school,” she thought as she glided through Washington Square Park on the way back to her dorm. “One bird with two shots.”
