a severance, and then signed on the dotted line. And Steven let Sean know that he still had the evidence, and if he wanted to stay out of prison, he would make sure the women of the Chi Chi Room were available to him.
Steven really didn’t like law anyway, and with Pimp he’d taken a magazine that had previously had a weak regional circulation and turned it into the biggest-selling black magazine, next to Essence women’s magazine. He was making money hand over fist and it all came from shooting titties and ass for horny men. Now he was going into another venture. He was going into porn, and Ray was his talent scout.
“Okay, so what do ya got?” Steven asked. Marty and Ray had been scouring the clubs for damn near a month now, looking for the right one. Steven wanted someone fresh, something that could capture the imagination of the black porn-buying public. He needed a star.
“I think I’ve found our girl,” Ray said. “She’s going to start off Pimp Video with a bang.”
“Where are her pictures?”
Ray leaned back in his chair.
“I don’t have any yet. I met her at the Chi Chi Room the other day. Believe me, she’s a star.”
“The Chi Chi Room? Goddamn it, that means Sean is going to want a cutback, isn’t he?”
“Of course.” Ray laughed. “But then again, this piece of ass is worth it. And I think she’s a video virgin.”
“Description, give me a description.”
“She looks a bit like Vida Guerra, the girl on FHM. She’s light skinned with perky, real breasts and a beautiful ass. She doesn’t have a big ass like the regular bitches at Chi Chi’s, but it’s in proportion to her body. She’s tight, man, she’s really tight. I think she’s mixed with something. Maybe Mexican or Puerto Rican.”
“Measurements?”
“Probably about 36C-24–36. She’s tight, I tell you.”
“But tight doesn’t mean that she can fuck. Okay, then bring her in. I want to see this star. And if she’s as good as you say she is, then we may find ourselves making a lot of money.”
“I’ll get back to Sean about getting her in here,” Ray said.
“Wait, I want to cut Sean out of this,” Steven said, standing up. “If she’s anything like you say she is, then I want to make her the black Jenna Jameson. We need to get her in some scenes and then test how she sells. But if I’m going to be investing my money, I don’t want some Negro out there making money off of her. Pay him for the shoot, and then tell him that’s it.”
Ray got up to leave. “Not a problem. He’s going to be pissed, but what the fuck can he do? The nigga’s got no choice but to take the deal.”
“And it’s your job to make that happen,” Steven said. “If she’s as good as you say she is, then it’ll be worth it.”
Tonight, the Chi Chi Room was packed early because Keisha was going on early. She was rapidly building a loyal following.
She’d turned to stripping in the first place because it was the only place she knew where she could make a lot of money in a short time. South Central wasn’t like the richer areas of Los Angeles. If you got a low paying job that didn’t make you drive across town, you felt lucky. But no job was going to pay Keisha the money she needed for UCLA. So it was the Chi Chi Room for now.
For Keisha, getting onstage was power, both economic and sexual. The attention she got from the men made her feel like she could control them with each shake of her breast, every wiggle of her ass. She liked the fact that because of her body, she could pull money from the pockets of leering men. It turned her on, and yeah, it was sort of addicting.
“Now gentlemen, coming onstage is a girl who has been at the Chi Chi Room for only a few weeks, but we think she’s going to be a star,” the DJ said. “Please put your hands together for Keisha!”
Keisha walked up to the stage in clear high-heeled pumps, a silver thong, and a bikini top to the sound of Ice Cube’s “Jackin’ for Beats.”
“Shake that ass, baby,” one shouted. He was damn near frothing at the mouth, as he balanced his drink and cigarette in his hands.
“Show me those tits,” said the other.
Normally, Wednesdays were slow at the Chi Chi Room, but it was important that new girls build their fan base on off nights so they could get prime nights like Friday and Saturday, otherwise known as Payday and Get Laid nights. So Keisha brought her ass to one, and showed her tits to the other.
Keisha gripped the pole in the center of the stage and began humping it. She wasn’t a natural dancer, but she had a sensuality that the men seemed to like. She remembered how awkward she’d been only a month before, but now she was feeling like a natural. It was all about the tease.
She held her hands on the pole, stuck out her ass, and began making circles in the air with it. Dollar bills began raining down by her feet. A couple of deep knee bends, then a slap of her own ass, made the pervert pit go wild. It was now the middle of the song.
“Come on, guys,” the DJ said, “make some noise for Keisha!”
Give every section a chance to see me, she thought, walking around the stage.
Keisha began playing with her bikini top and teasingly took off one string but kept her breasts covered. More bills began flying. She began to shake her breasts, giving the men a glimpse of her milkshake. With one hand on her breast, she then used her other hand to untie the other string. The bikini fell, and she stood there bare.
“Look at those beautiful, all-natural breasts, gentlemen,” the DJ yelled over the song. “Keisha is tight, tight, tight!”
With “Jackin’ for Beats” almost done, it was time for the thong to come off. But before that, she needed to make some contact with the pervert pit. So she slid along the floor on her belly, making eye contact with a thirty-something man. He had a wedding ring but tried to hide his hand.
When Keisha got to him, she used her breasts so that they just barely touched his face. Now on her knees, she began to slowly take off her thong. His eyes were as big as saucers.
As Keisha took off her thong, more dollar bills flew down on her, and she continued to concentrate on her married man. Finally the thong was off, and she put it on his head, stuck out her tongue, and then put her ass in his face.
“Damn, girl, that is a beautiful ass!” a voice yelled.
And suddenly the music was off.
“Gentlemen, please give Keisha a round of applause,” the DJ said.
Keisha instantly stood up and picked her thong off the head of her married man.
“Thank you,” she whispered into his ear. He was absolutely enthralled, as they all were.
Keisha walked around the stage, picking up as many bills as she could, and she tried to avoid the groping hands of the pervert pit. If given the chance, they would try to get a quick and cheap feel from one of the dancers.
Finally, Keisha walked offstage, and ran into Patra, who was about to go on.
“You make much?” Patra asked.
“At this cheap-ass club? Hell, no,” Keisha said, trying not to drop the dollar bills she’d collected. She held them pressed to her left breast. “See you later.”
“Later,” Patra replied.
Keisha walked into the dressing room. No one was there except for Sean, who was sitting in a swivel chair.
“When are you going to let me work on Fridays?” Keisha asked, putting her money on the counter. “I bet I only made one hundred, and after the tip-out, I’m probably only getting about fifty dollars tonight. That’s some bullshit.”
“Look,