tagInterracial LoveThe Education of Melody Johnson Ch. 01

The Education of Melody Johnson Ch. 01

byfreegirl2012©

Prologue

Me

"Melody Johnson what do you want to be when you grow up?"

The eight year old girl smiled at her teacher and proudly answered. "I want to be me."

"You're already you but you need to decide what you're going to be when you grow up."

"Why?"

"So you can lead a productive life. You want to make your family proud don't you?"

"My momma and daddy are already proud of me."

"Melody..." After a long day with a room full of children the teacher was a little less patient than the job required. "Pick a career now Ms. Johnson."

The child looked around the room as all the children snickered. There were twenty two children and nineteen had all chosen one of the two categories that always made adults proud even though a large majority had little chance of obtaining the goal.

"Melody do you want me to send a note home? Again?"

Make that twenty children who picked a career that made adults happy.

"I want to be a doctor." She mumbled while leaning her cheek against her hand.

The teacher smiled nodding in approval. "Good girl. I'm sure with hard work that's exactly what you'll be."

As she moved on to other subjects Melody thought to herself, not in a million years, when I grow I'm going to be me.

Chapter One

Me

I don't know that any little girl ever sits in her third grade class and when the teacher says what is it you want to be, raises innocent eyes and answers. "I want to take off my clothes for men as they wave money at me."

I mean who makes that the great life plan? For many it's that kind of job that 'just happens'. You know, low on rent, got kids to feed, a trifling man to take care of, and in a lot of cases a perverted 'uncle' who gives you a fucked of view of your sexuality. Now before you shed me a tear and prepare yourself for my tragic tale, I have to tell you that is not my story so don't break out the kleenex just yet.

Truth is, I grew up with a wonderful family in a beautiful home. I was nurtured by a mother who was kind, loving, and independent along with a faithful, hardworking father who thought I was heaven sent. I was given constant positive reinforcement by two older brothers and one older sister who would all posse up at a moment's notice to ride to my rescue. Where I lived hardship was not a word many experienced personally but did believe that donations and prayers given every Sunday relieved the world's woes, I was raised on the purest form of poverty porn to insure I understood my status and responsibility to those less fortunate.

So who am I? I guess the answer depends on the day, my mood, and the situation. On any given day I am dutiful daughter, adequate student, dependable friend, all fine qualities. It would be great to say that was enough but it isn't so sometimes I take my clothes off for men who wave money at me and once again before you get the wrong idea money is not the reason I do what it is I do. Don't get me wrong, a girl could always use some extra cash, but the reasons I dance are for the opposite reasons that I do everything else, it's just for me.

I don't experience feelings of exploitation, shame, or regret at the end of the night or the early morning, just a sense that I was me and it was okay. Yet if not money then what is the point? For me it's the adulation. The clear desire of having all those eyes on me. I guess you could call it mental money, a constant deposit into my emotional need for attention. When my tight round brown ass walks on stage in six inch heels, a silver g-string, and a big bright smile, every man and his little friend pay the ultimate respect by coming to attention. I am not the thickest of sisters but what I lack in weight I make up for in curves. My tits are not overly large but a bit more than small and always stand to attention even without a bra. Slight hips connected to a small waste led down to a beautiful pair of legs. Hey we are all different and big, small, black, white, or red the beauty in being a woman is to just be a woman. Working these tight laced men up into a sexual frenzy then smiling politely as I pick my money up off the floor and walk away is a powerful powerful thing.

The men love it when I come out as one of my alter egos such as the Silver Dream, one of my favorites. A silver bikini, long matching patent leather thigh high boots that stopped mid-thigh, blue eye shadow worn heavy under perfectly arched brows, and my naturally swollen lips a deep ruby red. I even wear a white wig cut in a bob to complete that comic book look. When I dance I control the elements with a twist, a turn, or a look. I could make men hot or cold and either way they want it enough to pay for it.

My white nurse's outfit was another big hit. It wasn't the doctor's coat my third grade teacher imagined I'd be wearing but my bared tits and ass inspire many a man's heart too beat erratically and only a return visit could cure a terminal case of desire.

There was the naughty teacher. The dominant jailer. The dirty little, well you get the idea. It is the only time I am self-created. How many women could make that claim? How many of us are brave enough to be exactly who we always wanted to be? Have you in all your life ever experienced even a moment of pure unadulterated self awareness? No need to answer, this story is about me after all so ponder it or don't at your own peril.

Now how does an upper middle class Ivy League student become a pole dancer? Truth is I'm dying to tell someone, it's one of those secrets that you want so badly not to be a secret but to expose it would cause a lot of pain to a lot of people so for them you hide it. In a sad sick sort of way, I guess that's also one of the things that turns me on, the fact that it is so risqué.

Why don't I start from the beginning? Everything that made me who I was would change one night on spring break when my girl Tasha and I decided to spend it in Cancun. I was never shy but I certainly was not your typical university student party animal so these trips were rare. As required by the unspoken laws of spring break, we hit several bars though neither of us were heavy drinkers. After that we headed to the beach where hundreds of American college students were in full party mode at the expense of financially generous parents. Tasha and I pushed our way through a throng of screaming inebriated young people that met out unfamiliar gropes, curses, and the occasional crushed toe. Upon arrival to our destination it did not take long to decide the struggle was hardly worth the effort.

"Pathetic." Tasha replied as we watched several girls dance around the stage boldly.

It wasn't that the dancing was bad, in fact some of the women were actually pretty good but there was not one single decent ass on the stage. To tiny, flat, pale, or just plain not there. A fairer sistah couldn't find a tanning booth or something? Where were the Latin and Black girl's? Hell even an Asian, well maybe not for ass, but a bit of diversity. A few of the gluteus maximus challenged girls had large tits but I would have bet my car they were purchased by mommy and daddy. Freshly dyed blonde hair with a few tracks added in for length and thickness completed the over duplicated spring break look. What surprised me was the sound of the men calling and cheering. It was this scene that would bring forth in me things I never thought existed.

For some reason the sound of men calling out hungrily had a strange effect on me. I felt flushed, jittery, excited, like I was weightless and flying as high as I could without actually being high. My stomach clenched and my pussy throbbed causing me to hold my inner thighs tightly together less I cum right there in front of everybody. Good thing I had on a pair of blue jean cut offs so no one would notice my stained bikini bottoms. I can honestly say I had never been so turned on.

Now understand I was far from a virgin but I must follow up with I was not quite a hoe; a couple of guys in high school, less than five but more than three in college, one professor from a rival institution, and a swim coach who was interested in teaching me how to stroke. Give or take two or three drunken one-nighters and it was pretty much the academic norm.

Despite the variety of eager sexual participants that college life provided after a while the sex became less than stellar. I mean what is the point of getting all worked up just to be let down? College men were, for lack a better word, lacking. No skill along with no will. Just aim, shoot, and scene. I am so tired of those weak ass cons that in the end cost me more than just coitus disappointment, there were serious financial ramifications to bad sex that few of us women ever acknowledge. Dry cleaning for one, my time another, and without a doubt the biggest expense was the hair. As you know a weave ain't cheap and I for one don't appreciate having to have my tracks retightened because he thought he was bomb. Then you gotta spend the whole damn next day in the salon and just keeping it real ladies, black hairdressers slow as hell. Upside? You get some good ass gossip. I certainly ain't found nobody in a while worth loosening up my tracks for. But I digress. Tired of watching the train wreck that was this dance off I turned to Tasha.

"Come up with me?"

"Uh uh..." She frowned drinking her beer.

"Come on Tash we gotta represent."

"I don't care nothin about those bitches up there lookin like they doin the robot, these white boys don't do nothin for me so they don't get the benefit of watchin what I can do."

I rolled my eyes then handed my corona over. "Well I'm gone handle this."

Tasha shrugged while encouraging. "Do you bitch."

Jumping up on stage I was prepared to take my moment as Tasha, one of three best friends, did what a girl's girl should during a drunken night of partying, cheered me on.

"That's right hoe, show them how it's done."

"Looks like we got some nice talent here tonight fellas? Let's hear some noise!" A cute guy with a mic walked to the center of the stage giving me the once over. "So what's your name sweetie?"

There were a lot of my classmates in Cancun so I did not want my real name getting out, I did have to return to school on Monday and had no intention of being a source of conversation.

"Storm." My name made all the guys cheer and whistle.

"Like the comic book?"

"If that's what you like."

Well Ms. Storm I do like, what you got for us?"

I started to twist and turn my body seductively, small hips rotating in welcome to intoxicated stares. Rolling my ass so the audience could get a better look, I dropped it low as the music got me in the mood, popping my ass so hard it looked like it was separate from my waist. The men went wild with whistles and cheers. When I turned back around my arms were clasped above my head as my body rolled nicely to the beat of the human chant. It was indescribable, erotic, I felt so... free. The announcer fanned himself in a mock gesture while he circled me shaking his head back and forth.

"That's what I'm talking about. Damn girl, you got a license to move that ass?"

Wanting to have a little more fun I leaned into the mic licking my lips and holding out my wrist.

"No I don't. You gone lock me up?"

Guys threw their hands up in the air and a few tried to jump up for a closer look, security pushed them off and the announcer sat down right in the middle of the stage playing along.

"Smokin. That's why I love spring break, the best minds America has to offer." He stating his eyes glued firmly to my ass. "Well I know who I think should win but I'm not thinking with my right head at the moment." This caused more guys to cheer. "Come on men we have to be fair. Right ladies?" He spoke to the women in the crowd and they cheered. "And to play fair we need to get some testosterone up here."

The men booed as the women cheered. "Tonight some struggling college student will win two thousand dollars." Walking over to one of the girls on stage he pushed a mic in her face. "What school you from doll?" The girl yelled out her school name as she did her cheerleader jump. "We need someone of the male persuasion to accompany this young woman." He held up his hand when men cheered. "Now you gotta go to her school as this is a college challenge. So somebody come represent." He worked his way down the line pairing each girl off with her coed reaching me last. "So what prestigious institution do you hell from Storm?" When I said my university the announcer raised his brows. "Shit. Smart and sexy. I don't know men, it might be hard to find her equal." Turning me around the announcer waved a hand over my derrier. "Who out there has seen this beauty strolling across campus?" I waited with a smile not worried about being left hanging. "Come on men don't be intimidated. Do you bite sweetie?"

I looked over my shoulder shaking my head. "I prefer to suck."

"Okay, if you don't win tonight, I'm giving you two thou' out my own pocket. Come on Poindexter's, I know we have a few frat boys from this illustrious university."

When a tall guy raised his hand and started making his way to the stage I tried to get a clear look. Dark brown hair was all I could see. He leisurely pushed through the crowd his wide shoulders acting like a plow. When a large form jumped on stage the women cheered as the announcer egged them on. "You ladies like that huh?" They jumped up and down screaming.

A pair of dark blue eyes look down at me as a familiar face gave me a white bright smile. At closer look I realized his hair was sandy with blonde shrieks that topped a long nose and squared jaw. My girl Kay played Lacrosse and sometimes we went to see the guys play so I knew it was Jeremy Kingston, captain of the male team. Feeling myself from all the cheers, I backed my ass up against his front and not missing a beat he grabbed my waist to complete the connection. This made the crowd go wild.

Jeremy leaned into my ear whispering. "How come I haven't seen you on campus?"

I turned my head and our lips almost touched. "I doubt I'm the kind of girl you would notice."

"Why?" He kept my ear close to his lips.

"Just a hunch white boy."

He exhaled against my neck in a sexy low voice his answer making it clear he understood my meaning. "You'd be wrong, black girl."

"Okay you two, save it for the school utility closet we need to get this party started."

I'd totally forgotten that I was on a stage in front of hundreds of people as Jeremy held my complete attention.

"Now this is how the game is played, first we will have a dance off to find out who can shake their asses into the next round then we will have an ice cream social. There are these kiddie pools here filled with ice cream so our women will get inside and duke it out. Last three girls standing move their school to the next round. The final stage is the cleanup, this is where the guys do all the work ladies and you simply lay back and relax in these nice recliner chairs and the men have to do some cherry popping. The more cherries you can pop in the most interesting way you can pop them wins so if any of you boys are scared of pussy get off the stage and let some real men on cause it's gonna get hot up here. Best couple gets two gran' too split."

The thought of Jeremy and me in one of those chairs was a real turn on so I was determined to make it to the last round.

"Let's get started." The announcer stepped to the side of the stage as the competition began.

Jeremy wore a pair of board shorts, no shirt, and flip flops that he quickly kicked to the side. As the music played we all started to gyrate to the beat his hands on my midsection as they held me close. Turning me so I faced him, blue eyes stared down into my brown ones, firm hands rubbing down my back to a perfectly round ass. I put a single finger on his chest moving it slowly down to his flat stomach then opened my hand wide to stroke his crotch. He was rock solid and well equipped if I do say so myself.

"Don't hurt yourself." I smiled at his discomfort, he did not return the smile.

"I was thinking it might hurt you more." I looked down then back up thin brows raised when it grew larger in my hand. This time he was smiling. "I see I'm going to have to turn you around so you can stay focused." He smoothly turned me into his arms as we continued to move in unison.

With his front pressed against my back I felt his dick push against my ass and gasped. No way, did it get even bigger? When I felt his hands make their way to my breast I caved, my head fell back against his chest as he openly massaged my tits.

"That's pay back." He whispered in my ear.

I felt the heat of his tongue against my ear and moaned. I could not help myself, taking my hand I put it behind my back to rub his cock a second time. I didn't know who was winning the contest at that point all I knew is I had never been so fucking turned on.

He had a little Velcro opening in his shorts that I stuck my hand through and grasped his dick pleasantly surprised that he wasn't wearing any underwear. His dick felt smooth, hot, hard, thick, and long, so many wonderfully descriptive words for the falus I began to tug rymthmically. When he bit down on my ear I almost lost my mind.

"Okay you two, you're in the next round you can stop 'dancing'."

I opened my eyes to see the crowd in a frenzy. When I removed my hand from his shorts to walk away Jeremy pulled me back.

"Wait a minute, close me back up."

Turning me around he looked down pointedly at a pink dick with the purple tip at full staff, only hidden by my hips pressed against him. I placed it back in with my hand causing him to groan against my hair then gave his bulge a hard pat that made him bend forward in discomfort.

"Fuck. Don't do that shit." It was obvious his dick was in a vulnerable state but I could not help laughing. His eyes were blazing as his jaw tightened. "So you like to play?" He nodded his head. "Okay. Okay, let's play."

I did not know what he meant but it came off like a threat as he walked over to the other contestants leaving me to follow. What was he gonna do on a stage surrounded by people? I stepped next to him as the announcer tried to get the crowd to settle down. The audience obviously enjoying the show began to get into the fun as several people were openly making out or outright fucking in the audience. The announcer looked over to Josh and me shaking his head.

"Who knew Ivy leaguers had it in them? I guess all that studying makes them pretty tense." Looking up at Jeremy he still appeared frustrated.

"Lighten up frat boy just innocent fun." I don't know what came over me that night, it was like I was some other person. Like I was the real me being set free from bondage. I knew it could not last but I would enjoy it for that night. Jeremy was just a rich frat brat who was used to getting his way, everything that I hated about university. The frat house was nothing more than a stationary fuck bucket. Girls came and went with the release of a guy's orgasm never to be seen again with the exception of a nice picture on a wall of shame site for their troubles.

I could have joined a sorority, my mother and sister were both sorority girls and were constantly trying to get me to join but it wasn't my thing.

I was only an hour from home at the university but I preferred to stay on campus. This afforded me a little privacy from a very close knit family. I had a rule that none of them were allowed to visit me at school. This was very important as they would be there several times a week with some excuse to get together if they could. It wasn't that I did not want to see them, I just wanted to enjoy college alone. No parents. No siblings. No boyfriends. Just freedom.

"Okay guys help the lovely ladies into the pools."

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byfreegirl2012© 6 comments/ 18523 views/ 19 favorites

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