The Demoralization of Romeo Jones

By M.Paul Rivers and Keith Lamont Rivers

YOUNG ROMEO DEQUAN JONES, A RECENT HIGH SCHOOL GRAD, HAD HIS ENTIRE LIFE AHEAD OF HIM. TRAGICALLY, HIS ENTREPRENEUR GRANDFATHER DIES IN AN AUTOMOBILE ACCIDENT LEAVING ROMEO OVER ONE MILLION DOLLARS, A MINT CONDITIONED STINGRAY CORVETTE, STOCKS AND BONDS, AND IF HE CHOOSES, AN INTEREST AND PERMANENT POSITION IN HIS PROSPERING FOOD BUSINESS. ROMEO THINKS HE'S MET THE LADY OF HIS DREAMS. THEN HIS LIFE GETS COMPLICATED AND TURNED UPSIDE DOWN. SEDUCTIVE WOMEN USE THEIR WILES TO SEDUCE HIM. HIS EX-NEIGHBOR, A SEXY VOLUMPTUOUS TEMPTRESS, WHOM ROMEO'S ALWAYS SECRETLY DESIRED, SETS ROMEO UP AND AN UNDERAGED YOUNG GIRL WON'T LEAVE HIM ALONE. ONCE HE DISCOVERS AND REALIZES WHAT HAS HAPPENED; IT IS TOO LATE. HIS FATE IS NO LONGER IN HIS HANDS AND HIS LIFE BEGINS SPINNING OUT OF CONTROL MUCH FASTER THAN HE CAN HANDLE. BECAUSE OF THE NEIGHBOR HE ONCE CARED ABOUT, HIS DOOM MAY HAVE BEEN SEALED..........

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jan 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9781663216502

M.Paul Rivers

I tell the story from a no-bars held perspective for people who can deal with reality. Even though my story is fictitious; I believe that the twists and turns of the story will keep readers amused and the book is a page-turning wonder which when the reader begins reading, it will be difficult to put down.

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Copyright © 2021 M.Paul Rivers.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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ISBN: 978-1-6632-1649-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6632-1650-2 (e)

iUniverse rev. date: 01/14/2021

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 40

CHAPTER 41

PROLOGUE

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T HE CAR DOOR shut after the young freshman exited the car. It was her second week of school at Cherry Hills High School. She was returning home from her intramural soccer practice at the school. Her home, from the outside, looked darker than usual. To the right of her as she made her way to the front door; her mom’s Mercedes Sports Coupe and her father’s Jaguar were both parked in the driveway.

She turned the key into the lock to the front door, Mom, Dad, I’m home. The young lady hollered toward the rear of the house. When she received no reply, she shouted again that she was home. Her mom was in her late thirties and her father; early forties. She assumed that they were just fooling around in their room and having sex, The fourteen year-old adolescent youngster stood 5’1" and weighed eighty-five pounds. She had just gotten her first menstrual flow when the summer began back in June, and it still was not a regular monthly occurrence for her.

She was at that awkward age and to add to that, she was insecure about her physical appearance and sexual development as compared to her fellow teenaged female students that were her age. As she took off her soccer jersey and then her training bra, the toilet paper that she stuffed in her trainer every day to make it appear that she had been endowed as much as the other ninth-graders, in her clique, fell to the floor. She then headed for her bathroom, which was connected to her room.

When she entered, she looked into the mirror to examine her miniature buds that were barely sprouting from underneath her aureoles. She hoped and prayed that her breasts would grow to be as large as her mother’s, who was very much endowed with 38Cs,

She turned the water on in the tub and began to fill the tub with her favorite bath oil and perfume soap. The young lady then stripped out of her soccer shorts and then her panties and began examining her pubic area. She barely had anything down there but peach fuzz.

Suddenly, an eerie feeling came over her. She felt as if someone was staring at her, but put the thought out of her mind as her being paranoid. She looked into the mirror and put her hands on the little buds that would some day be her breasts and began feeling on them. In her reflection in the mirror, she saw a masked man behind her. She reflexively turned quickly, but it was too late. The masked man pulled out a knife and placed it against her throat while putting his other hand over her mouth.

Next, he dragged her out of her bathroom into her bedroom. Another masked man stuffed a cloth into her mouth and taped it around her head and onto her hair and wrapped the tape around two or three times as a way of gagging her. One of the men handcuffed her. She was stark naked and scared as hell.

The two men dragged her out of her room and across the house where her parents’ room was located. One of the masked men then pushed her into the room and she fell on the floor. Her parents had been bound, handcuffed, and gagged in the same manner as she was. She took notice that one of the assailants was not much taller than she. The other one was about her dad’s height of about 6’2".

The shorter assailant brought in a foot stool from the living room and placed it at the foot of her parents’ bed. Her parents had a four-poster bed. Her mother’s, who slept on the right side of the bed, right hand had been handcuffed with two sets of connecting handcuffs, to the post to the right headboard and her left hand, was cuffed in one pair of handcuffs with her father’s right hand.

Her father’s left hand was cuffed tt o the left bed post with two sets of interlocking pairs of handcuffs. The assailants cuffed her mother’s left foot with her father’s right foot. The assailants left her mother’s right foot and her father’s left foot unshackled.

Their bedroom, just as the rest of the house, had been ransacked. Her parents had fright in their eyes. They tried to move around and pull against their confinement, but were too restrained by the cuffs.

Then the shorter man said, Let’s get a piece of this tender, young thing. as he rubbed in between the young freshman’s legs and on her underdeveloped mons pubis that was barely covered with peach fuzz in between her thighs.

He then grabbed her by her hair and pushed her body over on the footstool. She started flailing, fighting, and squirming. She did all that she could possibly do to break the hold that they had on her, but still could not get out of their grasp. The taller assailant then said, This little lady is a little too spirited. I’m going to calm her down.He then slapped her across her face and held her down on the ottoman.

The shorter man was at that time unbuckling the belt to his pants. Her parents were shaking their heads and trying to mouth the words through their gags. Then it happened. The shorter man rammed and shoved his penis into the young lady’s tight, pubescent vagina taking her innocence. Blood began trickling down her legs. The shorter man ejaculated immediately and then wiped himself off on the stool and switched places with the taller man and held her down.

The taller man pulled his pants down. Then his undershorts, revealing a nine-inch long phallus. After he was undressed from the waist down, he rammed his manhood into the young freshman’s anus. She shuddered and writhed with pain. He was inside her. He was hurting her. In five minutes, semen was trickling out of the young lady’s anus. He wiped himself off on the other side e stool and pulled up his pants,

Her parents were looking at her with compassionate expressions. The young lady was in tears, pain, and confusion. Then the shorter assailant again grabbed her by the hair. He sat her on the stool. The other taller assailant pulled out his .357 and fired eight shots in the direction of her parents. He shot her mom four times and her dad four times.

There was no doubt from the blood that was over the headboard and on the bed, that they were dead.

The adolescent young woman pissed and shit on herself and went into shock. The assailants wiped down the areas that they thought they had touched with ungloved hands, wrapped up their take, and quietly exited the home.

When the police finally arrived due to one of the neighbors alerting them, the young lady was still naked, speechless, and in shock. She had been left alone in the world to fend for herself with no other living relatives, but her aunt Jean.

Shortly after the incident, she discovered that she was pregnant. Her life had changed dramatically and could not nor ever be the same. DNA technology had not yet been used. She was screwed in more than one way. Her parents’ murderers and her rapists would never be brought to justice.

CHAPTER 1

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I T WAS A humid autumn evening. Romeo, his brother, Raymond, his father, Louis, and his mother, Sheri were sitting on the front porch of their row house on Jackson Street.

The cool breeze coming off the Delaware was giving then somewhat a bit of relief. Sheri and Louis were talking and Romeo was looking across the street at his beautiful voluptuous neighbor that he had graduated from high school with.

She was a lovely, red-boned looking woman whom he has always had a crush on since he moved to the neighborhood when he was in the third grade. He always wanted her, but it never came to pass.

Suddenly, they were disturbed by the ringing of the telephone. The family, not wishing to leave the cool breeze to return to the heat of the house; just all sat there like bumps on a log. Sheri Jones, the mother and leading lady of the clan, entered the house and into the sweltering heat to respond to the chirping distraction. On the phone was a person from the Emergency Ward at Helene Fuld Hospital. The female voice sounded disturbed, yet somber. She asked, Is this Mrs. Sheri Jones? Sheri replied, Yes, this is she. May I ask who this is calling?

The voice replied, This is Rita Morrison at the emergency room at Helene Fuld Trauma Center. The voice asked, Are you Richard Cantrell’s daughter of 910 Edgewood Avenue? Yes, I am. Sheri responded. Well, your father’s in the Intensive Care Unit and I need you here as soon as possible. Be sure to drive carefully. If you feel that you are too nervous to drive; please ask someone to drive you here." Mrs. Morrison instructed.

Sheri Jones then asked, Can you tell me what’s going on with my father please. Mrs. Jones, Rita Morrison responded, It’s best that I talk to you in person, so please get here as soon as possible. The only thing that I can tell you is that your father has been in a car accident and your presence is needed as soon as you can get here. I understand, Ms. Morrison and I will be on my way and thank you for calling. Mrs. Jones concluded.

Mrs. Jones then went outside toward the porch and said, Grandpa Cantrell was in a car accident. Louis, I’m too upset to drive. Will you drive us to the hospital? Sure, Hon. Louis replied and then asked, How is he? Which hospital? Sheri replied, "He’s at Helene Fuld on Southard Street and I don’t know how bad he is doing, how bad it is, or anything. That’s why I need you to drive and Romeo and Raymond to come with me too. I’ve got all kinds of ideas going through my head.

As they entered the automatic doors to the emergency ward at Helene Fuld Hospital, they saw Clara Reid, Sheri’s Dad’s common-law wife crying in the waiting room. When she noticed that they had come in; she said that she had just gotten there a few minutes ago and when she went upstairs to the Intensive Care Unit, Richard was gone.

Sheri Jones then said, Gone, Clara, what do you mean gone? Your father’s dead, Sheri. He just passed away at 7:02 P.M. The people upstairs said that he was on a respirator and that he had some kind of paper on record instructing the hospital not to resuscitate if he ever loses his natural breathing functions. Let’s all go upstairs to the Intensive Care Unit and talk to the staff on the second floor. Louis, Raymond, and Romeo heard what Clara had told Sheri and were starting to feel sorrow, loss, and pain. Louis grabbed Sheri’s hand and put his arm around her, hoping to share the pain of the loss of her father with her. When the family arrived on the second floor at the Intensive Care Unit, a short Caucasian woman around fifty-five years old with a mole on her arm with short, straight, gray hair and green eyes approached and greeted her. She said, I saw you talking with Ms. Reid and figured that you must be Mrs. Jones. I’m Rita Morrison and unfortunately, I believe that you already know that your father passed away at 7:02 P.M.

He received a traumatic head injury in a car accident on U.S. Route 1. When he was rushed to this hospital about five-thirty this afternoon, he was unresponsive. We did some tests immediately and discovered that as a result of the accident; Mr. Cantrell was brain dead and was experiencing renal and respiratory failure. We then read through his medical records and discovered that Mr. Cantrell wished not to be placed on any kind of artificial or life supporting systems to prolong his life. We did all these tests down in emergency, but thought that maybe he would improve. While we still had him hooked up to the IV lifeline with atropine and dopamine drips, we brought him up here to the ICU. We noticed that his respiration was getting weaker and weaker, so we looked for his next of kin on the emergency contact list and it had you two listed. I instructed the nurse in ICU to call Ms. Reid and I called you. So, Mrs. Jones I am very sorry for your loss and I am going to give you and your family time to lean on each other and do what you must do at a time like this. The chapel is in the basement and Mrs. Jensen, the grief counselor, will be here at your request and convenience. I’ll be in my office located on the first floor in the emergency room ward. Is there anything that I can do for you or your family, Mrs. Jones?"

No. Sheri answered and said, Me and my family are going downstairs to the chapel and after we pray; we’ll see where we go from there, as she kept wiping the flood of tears from her eyes.

Okay, Ms. Morrison said, And again she said while eying Louis, Clara, Raymond, and Romeo, I’m very sorry for your loss." The family, teary-eyed, went downstairs to the basement to the chapel.

Romeo and Raymond were stunned by the news of their loss of their grandfather. Grandpa Cantrell had always spoiled them, told them jokes, taught them about what it meant to be a man, respecting themselves, and how to deal with dangerous situations. It also didn’t hurt that he was CEO and owner of Cantrell’s Canned Gumbo Soups, Louisiana Jumbalaya, and Dirty Rice. He amassed a fortune in the seventies, when he came up from New Orleans and started producing and marketing his products. Now, his business was appraised at a worth of 25 million dollars.

Their grandfather really didn’t care for Louis Jones and always thought that he just wanted his daughter because her father had had money. He took his last breath still believing the same thing.

When Richard Cantrell was a boy, he took off from his family in New Orleans and went to Biloxi, Mississippi where he met up with a cook who could do wonders with seafood, wild rice, sausage, and okra. He then started experimenting with exotic seafood dishes.

`Then due to the oil spill off the Gulf of Mexico, which basically contaminated the waters from Mobile, Alabama to Gulfport, Mississippi; no one was ordering seafood from Biloxi’s Harrison County Restaurants and that entire stretch along the coast. Richard found himself without a job and went back to New Orleans where he worked at a restaurant called the Gator Trap. He began cooking some of his own dishes and the patrons could not get enough.

Tragically, his older brother, Wesley, had fallen ill in Trenton, New Jersey and Richard dropped everything immediately to go up North to care for him.

His brother had a contract to make cans for the Campy Soup Company, but that commitment was going downhill and his brother lost that contract and was on the brink of bankruptcy. Richard bade for and was able to purchase his brother’s broken-down cannery, added a kitchen for the factory, contacted his fishermen friends in Louisiana, worked out a deal with a produce dealer for wild rice and okra, bought a new labeling machine, and what happened from then is what some would say is history.

In the seventies, he was a major employer of the Trenton, Camden, Bordentown, Lawrenceville, and Ewing Township areas. Now he was gone. The family in shock, dismay, and in awe, were feeling a void already from the loss of their father, grandfather, and father-in-law.

The body was taken to Hughes Funeral Home. Mr. Hughes and his family had owned and operated that establishment since 1835. Edward Hughes, the seventh generation proprietor was a youthful-looking, stout African-American man about 38 years of age and had embalmed more dead bodies than most bartenders served drinks. He was a somber man: serious, devoted, and caring as those were the qualities his occupation as being both a mortician and a funeral director required.

Mr. Cantrell was seventy-two years old and was in good health, but health didn’t matter when a sixteen-wheeler rams into the rear of your car. The driver of the car was not charged with a citation nor criminal infraction as he was trying to avoid hitting a drunk driver heading straight toward him.

The truck driver swerved to get out of the drunk driver;s way and hit Mr. Cantrell’s car as he entered onto Route 1. Fortunately and unfortunately, the injury caused a break in the vertebrae disconnecting the spinal cord, which showed no obvious wound or blood; thus, an open-casket funeral was possible.

Mr. Hughes talked to Sheri Jones about the kind of casket, burial services, or grave site memorial that she would desire. He informed her that he and Mr. Greenwood had an arrangement that specified if the decedent’s family used Hughes’ Funeral Home for their services; that Greenwood Cemetery in North Trenton would give a five percent discount on burial plots and PassaicTombstones would also give a five percent discount on their tombstones.

The information that Sheri Jones was receiving was becoming too hard for her to handle. It was just too surreal. Louis had to put his arm around her to stabilize her.

Romeo and Raymond were in a daze at the funeral home still having a hard time coming to the realization of their grandfather’s death.

Sheri pulled herself together and instructed Mr. Hughes to do what he thought would be nice since Richard Cantrell didn’t leave any specific instructions upon his demise, except that he didn’t want to be placed on any life-supporting apparatuses. Hughes then said, "We’ll dress Richard out in a dark green, double-breasted, tweed jacket and coat, with a light green shirt with a pin-striped dark green tie with black pin-stripes with a gold stickpin, black socks and black shoes. I vaguely knew your father, but I’m sure he was a stylish man and would like to be remembered like that.

Sheri looked at Louis, Raymond, and Romeo and said, All right, you guys, what do you think about what Mr. Hughes suggests? Louis, Raymond, and Romeo said, Yea Mom, and Yes, Honey. Sheri Jones responded, I believe this is the way we want my father decked out and please contact Mr. Greenwood and the owner of Passaic Tombstones and have them give me a call. Thanks again, very much.

The family walked in a solemn stupor out of the funeral home and got into the car; not a word was spoken all the way back to Jackson Street.

The funeral was held the following week. Sheri, Louis, Raymond, Romeo, and Clara were in a white Cadillac limousine. The viewing had been held the day before at Hughes Funeral Home on Stuyvesant Avenue and the body transported to Union Street Baptist Church for the wake; the burial and memorial services would be held at the grave site at Greenwood Cemetery in North Trenton.

Richard Cantrell apparently had more relatives than Sheri had known or heard about from Mississippi, Louisiana, and Alabama; there were seven limousines with family members in a convoy directly behind theirs on the way to the burial site.

It seems due to the weather, there had been numerous delays in flights at Philadelphia International, Trenton International, Newark, La Guardia, and Kennedy; thus, the family had trouble reaching Trenton. As the family listened to Gospel music in the limousine, Sheri, and Clara could not hold back their tears. Romeo and Raymond were trying to comfort Clara; as Louis was trying to look after Sheri.

The limousine had stopped moving, the chauffeur opened the door, Clara, Sheri, Louis, Raymond, and Romeo got out in that order. The men of the family joined three of Richard’s family members from the South, went over to the hearse, and took up their positions as pallbearers.

Once they had placed the casket at the grave site, they took their seats with Sheri and Clara and waited for the service to begin. Reverend Brown from Union Street Baptist Church, started off with a prayer and then continued with a beautiful eulogy. Sheri and Clara could not contain their emotions as they listened to Reverend Brown’s words while they reminisced at the same time about Richard’s life.

The grief just seemed too unbearable for Clara. She almost passed out; in fact, she did, and Romeo and Raymond grabbed her and kept her from falling. Raymond used his clean handkerchief to pour water over to place on her forehead. Even though it was a cold day; about seventeen degrees, there were about four-hundred friends and family members in attendance to say good-bye to Richard Cantrell. A lot of them; his employees.

Richard Cantrell was a fair and generous man. People loved to work for him and generally, he had a good effect on most people who came into contact with him. Reverend Brown talked for about forty minutes. Clara said a few words, as did Sheri, Raymond, and Romeo.

Reverend Brown ended the service by reading Psalm 23, and then family members tossed a handful of dirt on top of the casket with the immediate family also placing white roses on top of the casket.

The limousines were filled and the cars took off heading to Clara’s house on 910 Edgewood Avenue where her and Richard had resided and which she would, in all likelihood, inherit as being his common-law wife. By the time the limousine had arrived transporting the immediate family, there were about twenty cars parked around the back of Clara’s house waiting to be let in.

The guests had their cars filled with food, fruit, beverages, desserts, and liquor, as it was customary to bring food to a friend’s house who has lost a family member.

Clara, Sheri, and Louis went into the house with Raymond and Romeo following. Louis, Raymond, and Romeo instructed the guests as to where to place the food and drinks. It was now about four-thirty in the afternoon. Sheri and Clara immediately started trying to see who the relatives from down South were.

They knew Richard had said that he had a large family, but most of these people Clara nor Sheri had heard of or met before. They spent the rest of the evening getting to know who everybody is, sharing stories about Richard, and consoling each other for their grief. It was almost twelve-thirty in the morning and Louis, Raymond, and Romeo were telling guests good-bye and collecting addresses while Sheri and Clara still consoled each other.

Finally, they called the chauffeur, who had left until needed again to pick p the Jones family and take them home. After all, his services had already been paid. They said their good nights, or should I say, good mornings to Clara, got into the limousine, and were home in less than fifteen minutes.

They all were worn out by grief, funeral planning, and the loss of Richard. Romeo and Raymond hugged their Mom, shook their Dad’s hand, and headed for bed. Louis and Sheri just held each other for a while, had another drink, had sex, and passed out. The next thing they knew, the phone was ringing, it was ten-thirty in the morning.

Mom, Dad, they heard Raymond yelling, There’s a Mr. Terrance Lockett, Esquire on the phone. He says that he’s the executor of Grandpa Cantrell’s estate and that he’s been trying to get in touch with you guys and Clara.

Okay, Raymond, we got it. Hello, this is Sheri Jones. Yes, Mrs. Jones, this is Terrance Lockett. I’m the executor of your father’s estate. Is your husband, Louis there as well? Yes, he is. Mr and Mrs. Jones, do you plan to keep your father’s canned Gumbo Soup, Louisiana Jumbalaya and Dirty rice Company or do you plan to sell? We plan to run it ourselves. Sheri responded.

Well, Lockett said, "I have some ownership papers for you both to sign for title, business licenses, utility agreements, tax licenses, and OSHA standards; look over the balance sheets, income statements, and accounting papers. What time would be convenient for you? Currently, Richard Riley is the acting CEO and I would like to take care of getting you two situated as soon as possible in taking control of your father’s company. Taxes are due this month, thus, Mr. Cantrell’s capital is tied up until his accountant, Mr. Avery Green takes care of them.

Your father’s business pays his taxes at the end of the fiscal year which is at the end of next month. I cannot, by law, disburse any of his assets until probate and Uncle Sam look through his earnings and get their cut.

If you don’t mind, I could come by in an hour to get this over with; the paperwork, I mean. You don’t need any cash right now, do you? No. Sheri answered. If you did, Mr. Lockett said, I couldn’t help you because of the audits and taxes owed.

I am unable to distribute any of his major assets until at least December.

You’re at 205 Jackson Street, right? Lockett asked. Yes, Sheri said. Well, I’ll see you in about an hour. Lockett concluded. Okay." Sheri said and hung up the phone.

No sooner did Sheri disconnect from talking to Mr. Lockett, did the phone ring. It was Loving Life Insurance Company. The administrator had called to inform Sheri that her father’s policy would not pay premiums until sometime in December due to their standard operating procedure of assigning an agent to investigate causes of death thoroughly to ensure that there was no intent of suicide or any other kind of schemes perpetrated.

Sheri was told that her father had a two million dollar life insurance policy that would be shared by her, Clara, Raymond, and Romeo, which she already knew. It was nearing the time for her and Louis’s meeting with Mr. Lockett to sign business papers for Richard Cantrell’s canning and food distribution business. The doorbell rang and Mr. Lockett reintroduced himself, immediately got down to business, met Raymond and Romeo, had Sheri and Louis sign title, ownership, OSHA registration papers, and papers that stated that they were aware of and were responsible for current debt, and hastily left.

Sheri and Louis knew that in order for them to operate and manage Richard’s Business effectively that they would have to relocate to Camden; not to mention, that with the money that they would inherit that they could afford a nicer place and sell the row house on Jackson Street, which was already paid for and get a more luxurious car.

They decided to go to the company today, check out its operation, books, and employees. After that, they would look for a home in maybe a ritzy area of Camden.

Romeo and Raymond told their parents that they, too, would be looking for a house to share; probably a nice one in West Trenton off West State Street. They all took off to tend to their individual endeavors.

CHAPTER 2

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S HARHONDA WILLIS WAS the epitome of African-American beauty. She possessed the looks, physical traits, and features of a Jayne Kennedy, Tracy Reed, and an Alicia Keyes. She stood five feet, three inches tall, weighed one-hundred thirty-five pounds – all in the proper proportions.

Sharhonda’s complexion was the color of coffee mixed with cream. She had shoulder-length brownish-reddish hair. Because her grandmother was Caucasian and her grandfather African-American; she had what most black people would call, good hair, which meant that when it got wet, it would not become hard to comb or get nappy.

She had light-brown eyes with naturally arched eyebrows with perfect teeth and a smile that could possess most men. Sharhonda had a look of a woman of Creole heritage and what some people at first glance, would label her as a red bone. Her tantalizing breasts were erect and fit into her thirty-six C cup as if they were being smothered. She had a twenty-five inch waist, wide hips, short legs, and long strong thighs.

She had a Coke bottle shape, which some described her features as having an ass like a horse and a waist like a wasp. She was eighteen and hot to trot The only problem with Sharhonda was that her brain never quite caught up with her beauty. In elementary school, junior high school, and high school she was vey atheletic. She was as spry and nimble as a contortionist. Most boys wanted to do her in some of the positions that she attained.

She could place both legs behind her neck, she could do the splits, she could lay on her stomach and point poth legs upside down directly in front of her. Sharhonda knew how to get what she wanted from a man. The problem is that she didn’t know what to do with what she got. The track team coach, the swimming coach, and the softball coach; all wanted to recruit her for their teams. The obstacle that made it impossible for her to play for any of the teams was her extremely low retention level and her below grade point average in all of her subjects except Physical Education. Tutors did not help, but it really didn’t matter. Sharhonda’s sport was getting attention from the opposite sex.

She didn’t care for ordinary clean-cut nice young men; she had to have the rough hoodlum types. Many nice and decent boys vollied for her attention to only find out that she had no interest.

When she was in Kindergarten, she played and hung around with the class bully. Sharhonda had an unexplicable knack of being drawn to and enjoying the company of people o f low moral turpitude. I guess she is what you’d call a hood rat.

Sharhonda was intelligent when it came to how to work a man. She knew how to bring men close to a climax without touching him. She was quick to size up a man’s financial status, confidence, and penis size by the way that he talked. Sharhonda took pride in fucking the men with the biggest wallets and the biggest dicks. She tried her best not to have one without the other. If a man had a big dick and no money, he had to go. On the other hand, if he had a puny dick and lots of money he could stay, only if he was a good pussy-eater; which she made a requirement to go with having a small dick.

Sharhonda was always full of schemes. All of her life had been directed at achieving riches by fucking her way to the top without being considered a common whore or prostitute.

When she was in elementary school, she used to charge boys money to let them see her pussy. As she advanced through middle school, she used to charge them to let them eat it.

One day in middle school or junior high, Sharhonda’s teacher saw a girl named Ethel standing outside the stall in the girls’ bathroom as if she was on guard duty. The teacher heard some moaning and what sounded like crying coming from a stall.

The teacher’s name was Ms. Lovett. Ms. Lovett hollered into the stall in the restroom, Who’s in there? A high-pitched sexually toned voice replied, It’s me, Ms. Lovett, Sharhonda Willis. Sharhonda replied. I’m okay, Ms. Lovett, just a few cramps, you know how it is sometimes. Ms. Lovett said, I just thought someone was hurt. Then she left the bathroom.

As soon as she left the bathroom, Randy Ulster slid down the inside of the stall by removing his hands and feet from the sides of the enclosure. Sharhonda then said, Damn, Randy, that was close, we damn near got caught, but you still haven’t finished sucking my pussy until I come and you still haven’t paid me my ten dollars for letting you suck my pussy.

Randy told Sharhonda, I think Ms Lovett might come back. I don’t want to get caught, I’ll be the laughing stock of the school. Randy, just shut up and get your tongue and mouth in gear. I’ll tell Ethel to keep a better watch. Ethel, let us know if a teacher comes in. If you don’t do your job; I’m not going to hook you up. Ethel replied, I’m sorry Sharhonda, I was thinking about something. I won’t let it happen again. There was fifteen minutes left in the lunch period and Sharhonda still had not reached her climax. Sharhonda said, Look Randy, you act like you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing!

Boy, you just place your tongue on that little bump there and keep licking it. Then Sharhonda began to moan. Oh, oh, oh, oh, yeah, okay. Then Sharhonda said, that’s enougn, ten dollars, please." Randy reached into his back pocket and pulled out two fives as Sharhonda grabbed and placed the money in her pants pocket that she had just pulled up to her waist.

Randy asked Ethel, Is the coast clear down the hall outside so I can get out of this bathroom? Ethel looked both ways down the hall and then came back into the bathroom. The halls are clear, Randy. Look out the door, then make a run for it. Randy poked his head outside the door, looked around, and seeing no other students or teachers in his vision; he cooly walked away.

Sharhonda came out of the stall and handed Ethel her customary two dollars for being Miss Lookout. Sharhonda loved to place herself in precarious situations. One time while at a school football game, she was making money under the bleachers.

She was in high school then and boys were not paying to eat her pussy anymore; they were paying for her ass. She was under the bleachers during the game earning fifty dollars while breaking in a freshman. He had bragged in front of his homeboys about his sexual escapades, but truth be told, he didn’t even know where a vagina was, nor where to put his penis. Sharhonda didn’t care for boys fumbling around her pubic area who did not know what to do, so as ususal, she had to lead and guide his virgin phallus into her moist, comfortable mine.

Thirty seconds later, as the crowd roared, she felt a hot, wet spurt trickling out of his uretha and his body trembling in spasms. Damn, that was quick, Lavar. She said, The going price was forty dollars, but if you don’t want me to tell your homeboys that you don’t know how to fuck, it’s going to be an additional ten dollars, making you owe me a total of fifty dollars. Lavar reached into his pocket and pulled out a Grant and handed it to her. Please don’t tell my boys that I was a virgin. Sharhonda giggled and said, Your secret’s safe with me. Anyway, how did it feel? Was it tight and wet enough for you? Lavar started to blush and then said, So far, Sharhonda, that’s the best that I’ve ever had. Then Sharhonda told him, Be sure to let me know when you want to spend fifty dollars on me again."

Lavar, having just pulled up his pants, making sure there were no come stains on them, looked around under the bleachers to see if the coast was clear so he could make an exit, and when he saw no one, he quickly ran.

Sharhonda was a sophomore in high school, but built like a full-grown woman. She was barely passing all of her classes and had barely made it to the tenth grade. She was tired of hearing the praise for her little sister, Girhonda, who was in the fifth grade and always kept an A average. Her mom and dad always expected her to do well in school, but Sharhonda just didn’t give a damn. She knew her life’s calling was to work men.

She saw the look in a boy’s eyes she had shown her pussy; she knew that that was the way to go. She showed at least seven boys her pussy before the school year was even out. Those experiences led her to believe that what she had in between her legs could and would one day make her rich. To her, boys were like suckers or marks once she pulled down her panties; even at seven or eight years old.

From second grade on, Sharhonda made up her mind to remain physically fit so that boys would enjoy looking at her. She didn’t realize the full impact that her pussy had on the opposite sex until she started to mature and menstruate. Then, she discovered that boys were really suckers in more ways than one.

Sharhonda spent a lot of time buying different outfits to see the effect that tight clothes had on grown men. Her mom and dad tried to get her to dress age-appropriately and stop wearing such revealing clothes, but Sharhonda just did what every teenager of that time did – she left the house dressed the way her parents demanded and took a change of clothes with the outfit she chose.

This year Sharhonda was starting her junior year at East Trenton High School. She was glad that she had made it to the eleventh grade without bringing a little bastard into the world, even though she had undergone seveal abortions. She just didn’t want to hear and put up with her parents’ shit.

Sharhonda knew that she wasn’t interested in college, so the classes that she took were geared only for credits towards graduation. First period she took African Cultures; second period, she took Social Communications; third period she took Home and Family Living; fourth period, she took New Jersey History; fifth period, she took English 3 and ; sixth period, she took Physical Education.

She figured if she had to make some money that she could wash her ass after gym class before she went home. As usual, Sharhonda was having problems with her lessons even before school was even a month old.

In her Social Communication’s class, she was definitely trying a way to be social and communicate. There was an intelligent brother in her class sitting in front of her who could help her keep up. He was a junior like herself; about 5'10", one-hundred sixty-five pounds with a medium-dark complexion, straight white teeth, with a nice smile, oval brown eyes, with thick lips, a protruding jaw line, and a smooth baby face. She knew who he was. His name was Romeo. Romeo Dequan Jones. He had been her neighbor since he had moved across the street from her when she was in the third grade.

He had always been nice to her and her sister, Girhonda, probably because he wanted sone ass from her, but she always just teased him. There was no way she was about to drop her panties for him unless he had something of value to offer other than some dick.

Romeo turned around and said, Hi Sharhonda, how are you doing today? Sharhonda replied, I’m okay. I’m just having a little trouble remembering the lines for this skit we’re supposed to do.

Romeo said, Sharhonda, how hard can it be to remember to ask the man, ‘How long have you been mining diamonds? And then when he tells you that his mine fields are in Durban; that you don’t do business in that area because of a previous agreement back in 1963.’ What’s so hard about memorizing that, Sharhonda? Romeo asked.

She said, Romeo, you know how I am. I can’t memorize all that shit. Romeo said, Okay, Sharhonda, let’s go over your part for a few minutes until you get it right. Really, it’s not that much to memorize.

The bell rang and Ms. Clisters got up to close the door to the classroom. Then she said, I’m going to give you the first half of this class to prepare for your skits and then I am going to call on one of the groups to do their skits during the second half of the class.

This skit was an exercise designed to get students to deal with sensitive situations in an international arena and then to go over possible scenarios that affect commerce between businesses if tact is not employed. The lesson itself calls for students to investigate the issue of what occurred in 1963 and to understand how to present both sides of the situation.

After thirty minutes had elapsed, Ms. Clisters said, And we’ll her from Ms. Sharhonda Willis and Richard Dalton on a conference on why TNT Diamonds won’t contract business with P.W. Booth in South Africa. The skit went off without a hitch and Sharhonda had spoken her part perfectly. Then Ms. Clisters was critiquing the quality of the skit’s performers, then the bell rang. Ms. Clisters told Sharhonda and Richard that they would recieve an A" because it was believable and acted out with the right tone. She then dismissed the class.

Romeo tore out of the classroom with the utmost expedience when he felt someone tug at his jacket. It was Sharhonda. Thanks for helping me memorize my parts, Romeo. Sharhonda said. No problem Sharhonda, but why don’t you try being generous to me somethimes. Sharhonda said, Oh, Romeo, you know I don’t give my stuff away.

Romeo said, Oh yeah that’s right, how can I forget. Guys are always telling me how expensive you can be. Okay, well Sharonda, you’re welcome anyway, but next time you need some help, it’s going to cost you.

Sharhonda said, Forget you, Romeo. You know you love me and my credit is always good. Good for what I do not know." Romeo stated. Sharhonda gave Romeo a peck on his cheek and disappeared down the hall.

Romeo was in a deep infatuated thought when his friend Jay Branson tapped him on his shoulder. Earth to Romeo. Earth to Romeo. Jay repeated. Are you there? Oh. Romeo said, Jay, did you say something?

Yeah, are you all right man? Every time you’re around your neighbor girlfriend, you zoom off to another world. Haven’t you known her since you were a little kid and you still haven’t gotten that ass yet? Romeo, maybe you need to start saving your money from your paycheck from your supermarket job so you can afford to buy some from her. Naw. Romeo said, One day she’s just going to give me that ass.

Meanwhile, Sharhonda was heading directly to her third period class; Home and Family Living. The class basically was a modern-day life trouble-shooting class. The class was designed to place teenagers in simulated, real life every day problem-filled predicaments and have the students come up with solutions and act them out to enable the rest of the class to critique the solutions, and arrive at their own solutions and then discuss the proper response with the rest of the class.

Students were graded on their problem-solving techiques, solutions, attention to detail, speaking, attendance, and class participation. Sharhonda liked this class because she didn’t really have to do much in class; just listen to another student’s opinion and join along with it.

Today, the topic was domestic violence when the situation was that a woman was kicking a man’s ass. The issue presented centered on the fact that the man’s ego was not only bruised, but beaten all to Hell.

The class tried to figure out the best way for the man, not only handle the situation, but have to deal with the humiliation as a man, having to report to the authorities that a woman was kicking his ass. The situation played out almost comical.

Next, it was time to go to New Jersey History. Today, they were discussing how Trenton became the capital; about the Revolutionary War and; how George Washington’s army almost froze to death at Valley Forge. As usual, Sharhonda paid no attention to the instructor. Her mind was fixated on how she had planned to get a car by the end of this year by selling ass.

Mr. Jacobs, an Orthodox Jew, was her instructor in New Jersey History. Mr. Jacobs said, Miss Willis, why do you think George Washington attacked on Christmas Eve crossing the Delaware River into Camden and then heading north into Trenton?

Sharhonda said, Excuse me, Mr. Jacobs, I wasn’t listening. My mind was on something else. Mr, Jacobs said, Miss Willis, it seems that every time that I call on you, your mind is somewhere else. Mr. Jacobs then said, Is there a problem that you’d like to share with the class so we can maybe help you?

Sharhonda said, No, Mr. Jacobs, I don’t think that’s necessary. I can work it out. Mr. Jacobs then said, So we’re in agreement that the next time that I call on you; you will be paying attention to the subject at hand.

Sharhonda Willis said, Yes, Mr. Jacobs. I’ll see what I can do. That was typical Sharhonda Willis response. Her mind just wandered aimlessly contemplating on how and who she could literally fuck out of their money. The bell rang and Sharhonda headed to her English class.

In New Jersey, you had to take three years of high school English. In your senior year, you could take English 3 and English 4, as an elective, which was almost all the time required if you planned to attend college. As Sharhonda entered the classroom, Ms. Hereck, an upscale thirty-six year-old blond with blue eyes and short wavy hair, greeted her at the door. Good afternoon, Ms. Willis, she said. I’d hoped that you will join us today with your mind as well as your physical presence.

Sharhonda was notorious for not paying attention in all of her classes because of her scheming and day-dreaming. Her mother used to tell her, Sharhonda, you’re not slow, dumb, or stupid; you just don’t pay attention. It’s surprising that Sharhonda could remember that her mom told her that because she barely paid attention to her mom.

As Ms. Hereck began explaining to the class on the importance of proofreading anyting that you write and especially a resume’; Sharhonda suddenly remembered an appointment that she had set with this well-off White boy from Cherry Hills. He comes from a rich family on his father’s side. His mom is from Trenton and from what he told her; his dad is from all over New Jersey.

The young man’s name is Adam Scott. He was sixteen like Sharhonda and wanted to have sex with a Black girl. Sharhonda told him she would oblige him for two-hundred dollars and he agreed right then.

They were to meet in the choir room after sixth period because there was no after school choir practice scheduled. Miss Hereck said, The question was,’Why is it important to use correct punctuation when writing?’ Sharhonda replied, Miss Hereck, the kind of business I’m going to be doing, punctuation won’t even be necessary.

The entire class exploded in laughter because they pretty much knew what kind of business Sharhonda was doing. This was only the beginning of the school year, but still Ms. Hereck had heard