Hooker to Housewife (5 page)

She was a little taken aback because Chantal had smoked weed and popped a few pills but never fucked with the white girl. But hey, she was willing to try anything once. When she knelt down by the glass table and snorted three lines through a hundred dollar bill, Chantal felt like her nose was on fire. But then instantly her body started feeling warm and loose. A surge of sexiness came over her. She felt like she was a sex goddess or something. After snorting two more lines and having a glass of champagne, Chantal was wired.

“Baby, take off your clothes, so I can get a good look at you,” Andre said, ready to fuck. Chantal couldn't drop her panties fast enough and he was impressed with the buxom beauty. He put coke on her breasts and down her stomach and snorted it and fucked her at the same time. The shit was crazy. Chantal felt like she was Paris Hilton starring in some porno movie.

Andre's tongue was down her throat and he was pounding on her so hard Chantal thought she would be on bed rest for the next three weeks. His dick was huge and he kept going deeper inside of
her until Chantal thought her pussy would explode. Then he flipped her around and started hitting it from the back. He had his hands around her waist and was pushing her ass back to make his manhood go deeper and deeper. She had never felt this good in her life, and Andre was wondering if Chantal's pussy was the best he had ever had. She didn't know if it was the coke or the dick but she was open. They both reached their climax simultaneously and then passed out.

In the middle of the night, Andre woke up and carried Chantal upstairs to his bedroom. When she opened her eyes late that afternoon she found herself under what seemed to be a white fox fur blanket. She wondered if Andre had a fascination with white, because the whole décor in his bedroom reflected such. She then looked around, but Andre was nowhere to be seen. Chantal got out of the bed and stepped on the white marble floor. When she went in the bathroom she noticed a letter was on top of the sink.

Last night was unbelievable. I had to step out,
but please don't leave. I'll be back shortly. Feel free to
make yourself at home.
Andre

That was exactly what Chantal wanted to do, make herself at home. She had no intentions of going anywhere. Andre Jackson was the cream of the crop. She was never going to let him go. After reading the note six more times Chantal picked up the phone and called her girlfriend Arlene. When she answered the phone Chantal heard the grogginess in her voice. Since neither had a job it wasn't surprising to still be on shut-eye at three o'clock on a Wednesday afternoon.

“Arlene, wake up!” Chantal screamed through the phone.

“Chantal, is that you?”

“Yeah, it's me, wake up.”

“Girl, what the fuck happened to you last night? I was looking
for you for almost an hour, then someone said they thought they saw you leave with Andre Jackson. I was like, please, if my girl had lucked up and got with Andre Jackson she would be blowing my phone up bragging about the shit,” Arlene said, laughing through her wooziness.

“I was too busy getting the best twist out of my life to pick up the phone and call you.”

“So they were right. You left the party with Andre Jackson. Damn, Chantal, that's big. So what, you just now getting home?”

“You don't have caller ID?”

“Yeah, my shit said ‘private' when you called.”

“When I normally call you from my crib doesn't my name and number pop up?”

“Yeah, so what's your point?” Arlene snapped, still not putting two and two together.

“Bitch, stop smoking weed, your brain is slow. I'm still at Andre's house—no, make that
mansion.”

“You're fucking kidding me.”

“Nope, I'm lounging in his king size, white fur bed. It's like the clouds are surrounding me. Yo, on the real Arlene, his crib is some other next level shit. You ain't never chilled in no place like this. It's like that shit you see on the movies but this is real life.”

“Where that nigga at, while you talking all free with the tongue?”

“He had to step out, but he left me a note saying to make myself at home. I think he fell in love with the pussy last night. It's all good though, because I fell in love with the dick.”

“He let you stay in his crib by yourself, he must be open. You must have put the classic X-rated move on him that we mastered.”

“Damn sure did. That shit works every time. I put something extra in my move for Andre because he's special.”

“ ‘Special' is an understatement. After that bullshit with the basketball player, Andre might be your last hope for the glamorous life we all reaching for. As soon as that nigga walk through
the door get down on your knees and swallow him up. You fuck and suck him so good that even if his mind is telling him to send you home, his body is begging you to stay. You feel me? You do as I say and you'll be Erica Kane out this bitch,” Arlene said, point-blank.

Chantal listened intently like she was the go-to player on the team, allocated by her coach to make the winning shot for the NBA championship. She had nothing but the utmost respect for Arlene. When Chantal had stepped on the scene, Arlene was already a seasoned veteran at the game. Even though she would give all the other groupies shade, she instantly took a liking to Chantal, primarily because she was a younger, prettier version of herself. Seven years Chantal's senior, Arlene was the envy of all the up-and-coming industry chicks. She was pregnant by the most sought after R&B crooner on the airwaves. Arlene locked him down when he was at the height of his music career. Unfortunately that height lasted all of fifteen minutes. Traveling on private jets, sitting front row at the Grammys, and luxuriating at five-star hotels came to a halt by the time their son turned one. The once shining star left Arlene and the baby high and dry when the endless cash flow came to a halt and Arlene had to take a job as a receptionist just to keep food on the table. For months Arlene wondered why her man bounced and left her and their son with nothing. She soon learned that at the same time she was pregnant, he had another girl in LA who was pregnant with his child, too. He decided to make it work with her because, unlike Arlene, his other baby mother had a job making great money and didn't need anything from him. She was able to hold it down. That news crushed Arlene. Chantal was right there being schooled through Arlene's tragedy.

One day when Chantal was at Arlene's apartment soaking up another dose of her words of wisdom she said, “Chantal, watch and learn from my mistakes. You don't want to end up struggling the way I am.”

“Arlene, it's not your fault that clown-ass baby father of yours
bounced. You don't have anything to feel bad about. You were getting straight dough from that nigga and living good. So maybe right now you're on down time but it will all come full circle and you'll be right back on top.”

“I appreciate your confidence in me, little mama, but let me tell you where I went wrong so you don't follow my path. I had a baby with a nigga that didn't have no established paper. The music artist is at the bottom of the totem pole when it comes to getting that money, unless they are consistently selling millions of records and they parlayed they shit into endorsements and other things. You fuck around and get knocked up by a one-hit wonder, you might as well had a baby with the local drug dealer.”

“But the local drug dealer isn't going to have you on the scene at the hottest celebrity spots.”

“Yeah, maybe not, but when the one-hit wonder's time is up neither is he. If you don't have no dough, it's all irrelevant. Past fame don't pay no bills.” Chantal sat back, nodding her head, taking it all in. “You are a bad bitch, Chantal. Hands down one of, if not the, prettiest girls I've ever seen. Mad niggas is going to be checking for you. So just remember, when you decide to lock one of them down with a baby make sure he is at the top of his game. His paper needs to be so long that no matter what happens between you and him, he can never escape paying you those dollars.” That was the best lesson Chantal ever learned regarding how the baby mama game worked.

Later that day when Andre came home, Chantal followed Arlene's advice to the “T.” After screwing his brains out and snorting more coke, the two became inseparable. They hit a couple of rough patches, but Chantal was in it for the long haul. Andre paid her rent and continued to pay it and the rest of her bills until they moved in with each other for a brief time. He also let her keep his Benz so she had transportation until he bought her a car as a Christmas present. Andre picked up where Chantal's past money suppliers left off, but she had decided after that first night that Andre was a keeper.

Chantal awoke to
the comfort of $1,500 Frette sheets, still dreaming about the incredible sex session she and Andre had had in the limo after the movie premiere, and the amazing night of lovemaking when they arrived home. She knew, after the fireworks their bodies ignited, that significant progress toward her goal had been made. Andre was warm, affectionate, and treated her with respect during the duration of her visit. Last night, they appeared to be the perfect couple. As she lay naked in bed, Chantal began making plans for the redecorating she would do once she moved in permanently. Andre did have exquisite taste, but she thought the place needed a woman's touch.

Although Chantal's preference was to live at the mansion in Jersey, Andre insisted that with all his business meetings in the city the penthouse was more convenient for everyday purposes. They would usually stay in Jersey on weekends or long holidays.
But Chantal had no doubt in her mind she would change all of that shortly. So when she stepped out of bed and opened the double French doors that were adjacent to the master bedroom, and heard him making flight arrangements for her depature, her bubble instantly popped. To Chantal's dismay, Andre was putting her back on a plane to Chicago.

“Why are you in such a rush for me to leave?” Chantal wanted to know as Andre was hanging up the phone.

“I have a lot of shit to take care of. Business is crazy right now.”

“So crazy that you need for me to leave?”

“Yes,” Andre said in an agitated voice.

“How long is this back and forth mess going to last? You need for me and your daughter to be closer to you. Why do you insist on having us way out in Chicago when you are here? It doesn't make any sense, Andre. Don't you think your daughter wants to be near her father?”

“I'm not in the mood for this bullshit, Chantal. I told you before that I'm not ready for this living together crap. Last time we tried it, you started wilding out on me.”

“Yeah, because I caught your ass fucking around with mad bitches.”

“See, that's what you get for looking. I told you not to be all up in my business and you wouldn't find anything. But being the nosey bitch that you are you can't let shit go.”

“Fuck you, Andre, just fuck you. I don't have to deal with this.” Chantal turned around and began gathering up her belongings as if she was going somewhere.

Andre walked toward the bedroom where Chantal was randomly picking up shit and tossing it in her luggage. When Chantal saw him standing in the doorway from the corner of her eye she met his glare. Andre looked at her in a vicious, almost hateful, way. His words were clear and defiant. “Chantal, you don't have anywhere to go. I make you. Without me, you're just that weed smoking, pill popping, coke snorting whore. Everybody who is
somebody has fucked you, and the ones who haven't, heard about the pussy and chose to pass. So my suggestion to you is to get on the plane and take your ass back to Chicago. When I need you, I'll call you.”

This was how Andre could get sometimes, cold and cruel. When he acted like this, Chantal knew he was trying to get rid of her so he could be with the next bitch. He would send her home pissed, and a couple of days after he fulfilled his urge with one of his jump-offs, he would call saying how sorry he was. This was a constant ritual. Chantal was hoping by now he would've outgrown it. But until he did she would have to hang tough. Chantal had started off as one of Andre's jump-offs, but she played her cards right and was able to stick around. She wasn't about to let one of these other tramps come along and take her place. Chantal would give him his space for now, because he would be back begging for what was between her legs soon.

 

The moment Chantal arrived at the Chicago O'Hare International Airport, the first thing she did was call her girl Shari. She needed someone to vent to and Shari was always there for her when she ranted about what an asshole Andre could be.

“Girl, what you doing?”

“On the phone with Michelle,” Shari replied.

“Tell her you'll call her back, ‘cause I need to talk,” Chantal said.

“Hold on, I'll get right off,” Shari said before clicking over to the other line.