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For those of you who are not from Jersey, There is Sex In the Champagne Room. Some people call me arrogant, but I like to think I just know my worth. Anyway one night while me and my homeboy P Author of 13 reasons to avoid Single Mothers. So we in there popping bottles “of coronas” and living the life of a working nigga with a good ass job.

When the baddest shoe model walks up to me and ask me if i want a private dance. I igged her, I’m not the type to pay for ass or for some chick to grind her pussy all over my dick and I’m not getting any after I’m done. She makes a remark about why they call her sunshine. I’m not impressed, I mean I might have been if I didn’t see Harlem Nights 7 Millions times in my life. But we exchange numbers. She comes over the next day.

Looking back, I must have had balls the size of bowling balls b/c I walked a stripper in to my mothers house, pass my sister, mother and aunt all sitting in the living room up the stairs and into my room. I adjusted myself and put on some slow jams, her mouth watered. She glanced at the door to my room, to which I must of told her it was locked. She reached for my belt undid my pants and began to lick it like a lolli-pop.

This was a monumental event for me, my first stripper Shoe Model, I was nervous, but a bit of nerves were not going to throw me off of my game. I grabbed the back of her head and rested my hand while she got busy. She sucked dick like it was her day job.

I reached in my nightstand, pulled out a condom, placed her on the bed, and began to suck her tits, I was surprised they didn’t taste like old crumpled dollars. Things advanced, and I was inside of her working that psusy like it was one of Mitt Romney’s illegal aliens. I threw her legs on my shoulders and banged away, Her pretty brown eyes, rolled back in her baby blue eyelids. I was fcuking a shoe model.

But no shoe model fcuk is complete without hitting it from the back. One hand was gripped on her small waist and the other rotated from her big ole school daze booty to her shoulder length hair. I stabbed her psusy at a bit of an angle. as I used her hair for leverage, smacked that ass and watched it jiggle and shake with each inward motion. She did her dance on my pole that night. I smiled, after my shoe model virginity was broken. She left a little weaker in the knees.

I couldn’t help thinking that I fucked a shoe model and never even tipped her once. We had a few more encounters, but I wasn’t falling in love like T-Pain. One night after not stopping by the bar in a while, I popped up, she saw me came over and asked me for money. I smch’d her. I already fucked you for free, you can’t ask for money now… You have set the standard.

Needless to say I still haven’t found my cinderella.

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