Elise/Onyx: Exclusive Clients Only: Chapter 1/2

Chapter One 
Do you recall the bitter taste of the tears you cried the first time you had your heart broken? And I’m not talking about a simple crush, that you could easily move past. I’m speaking of the tears provoked from a heartbreak based on ultimate betrayal. Those are the tears that leave a taste for shear and utter contempt in your heart, causing you to do things, unhealthy things, things that most would deem toxic, but I on the other hand call, justified.

Now that I’m in my late twenties, standing in the enormous walk-in closet of my beautiful four-bedroom home, I don’t feel any qualms about all the money I’ve earned from out maneuvering trifling ass men, just like the one that broke my heart.

I stepped out of the silver stilettos that I had worn for the evening and placed them back in their home. The slot right next to a pair of shiny gold stilettos that were my absolute favorite. I remembered getting those when I went to Sicily with Gianni. He was this super sexy ass Italian man that owned several businesses, from casinos to restaurants. He had a thing for Black girls, even though his wife was just as Italian as he was.  

He took me shopping in Sicily and those gold stilettos cost nearly $600.00, but that was a drop in a bucket for him. He loved to spend money on me and I didn’t mind. Things got tricky for us though…he started to read too much into our relationship. 

One night after I fucked his brains out, he started talking about leaving his wife. I said to him, looking into is pretty blue eyes, “Why would you do that?”

He quickly responded, “so we can be together.” He started kissing on my neck. I quickly got out of the bed and put my clothes on. He stood up, his penis hanging between his legs, “You don’t want this?” he asked as if he was hurt.

I shook my head. I was completely numb to the idea of love and relationships. Plus, how could I take him seriously when I was one of his side chicks that he enjoyed fucking because his wife was boring in bed. 

I had a complete understanding of what I was and what we were to each other. I didn’t get why he wanted to switch things up. “Gianni, stay with your wife and kids. No one will take you seriously if you leave your wife.”

He chewed on what I had said, even though it was hard to digest, he realized that what I said was true. He had this beautiful olive skin tone and he was a sexy, extremely toned with chiseled features. He kissed my neck and started removing my dress, “Don’t leave just yet.” 

His fingers touched my clit and he moved in circles, “I get it. I just don’t want us to end.” I smiled as I watched him go down and taste me. I ran my fingers through his jet-black hair and enjoyed the way licked me, while slipping his fingers in.

That night, we fucked until my pussy was damn near raw. Once Gianni got started, he was like the energizer bunny. At one point, my leg cramped, he stopped, he released my leg, laid on top of me while kissing me. He continued until he finally pulled out, pulling off the condom, so he could watch his semen drip onto my belly.

That night, I earned one of the cars I currently drive, a black Camaro with orange stripes. He gave it to me as a birthday present. Gianni and I haven’t seen each other in a while, but when he gets a taste for caramel, he’ll send me a message on my other line. The one I use for…what I do. The line I use when I want to become her, Onyx. 

I grinned devilishly as I entered the code to open my safe. Inside, stacks of cash, precious gems and stones, policies, important papers, and other trinkets that I had received for my services.

I placed a diamond necklace inside and shut the door. I headed to the bathroom to get cleaned up. I had had quite the night with an African American man named Darren Wilkes, the owner of several car dealerships in the area. He had received my information from another client. He claimed he was bored with his current situation and was looking for a little fun and I was there to provide…for a price of course.

I took off my sliver sequenced dress and allowed it to fall to the floor. My body was like art. I would imagine someone painting me, a handful of breasts, my nipples, nice and perky, slightly browner than my cinnamon skin tone. I had a tiny waist, nice hips and ass, my legs long and lean. The only thing that disturbed me about my body was my condition.

I peeled off the blonde wig that I wore, revealed my black hair with a white patch that was right in the middle of my head. I ran my hand through my chin length hair, which I wore in a bob with a middle part.

I reached for the coconut oil, opened it and began the process of removing the makeup that I wore. The makeup allowed me to become her, a version of myself that I had created to escape my reality. 

I grabbed a wipe and removed the makeup, little by little, Onyx disappeared and I reemerged. The creamy spots around my eyes and nose showed. There I was. The girl that grew up being bullied for her vitiligo, Elise Olivia James.

Chapter Two
September 5th, a Saturday morning, I go for my run along the Hillsborough River. It’s early, so the sun isn’t as disrespectful and I enjoy the breeze as it dances across my skin, while my feet strike the pavement in my running New Balance that match the cute workout tights and sports bra.

My ear buds are in and I have my playlist going, providing me the necessary groves to get through the three miles I planned to do. At the end of my route, I decided to stroll to allow my heart rate to resume a normal level.

I received a notification from Mr. Wilkes, “Last night was amazing. I would love to see you again.”

I smiled. He was a nice-looking man, a teddy bear, tall and big, like an offensive lineman. When I walked into that fancy restaurant and saw him standing in the foyer looking like tall glass yum yum, I started throbbing below. I knew he was going to present a challenge.

His deep bass voice sounded in my ear as he spoke, “Hi, Darren, you must be Onyx.” he said as he checked me out in that silver dress that showed off my shoulders and my legs, he bit his lip and smiled.

“Yes, I’m Onyx.” I replied as I watched him kiss the top of my hand. He had soft lips. I could see the waves in his hair when he leaned down to kiss my hand. He looked up into my eyes, “Shall we?” I nodded and he showed me to a table in a secluded spot away from the main area.

We sat and talked while eating appetizers of crab cakes and drinking red wine. He was full of the spirit and I’m not talking about the Holy Ghost, because I felt his big strong hand on my inner thigh. He leaned in kissed my neck, as he found my spot. I grinned, “Are you ready?” I asked. 

“I got us a nice hotel, not far from here.” he replied. I placed my lips on his. 

“I’ll see you there in a few.” I rose from the table and left.

Later, I met him at this upscale hotel, where rooms were upwards of $400.00 a night. We were in his suite, me in his lap with all that thickness inside of me. I took it like a champ. He was impressed with how rode him, “Damn baby, shit is so good.” He exclaimed before lifting me up in the air and bouncing me on his penis. 

I wasn't usually into making a lot of noise. I kept my moans soft and lady like, but bouncing up and down on that monster sausage caused me to yelp, my breasts bounced in his face. He'd capture a nipple every now and again and bite gently before sucking. When we finally finished, my pussy throbbed the rest of the night and he wanted seconds.

I laughed as I thought about it. Could I really handle him two nights in a row? I was about to respond when I heard this voice, “What has you over here smiling like that?”

Now, from behind. I’m a very shapely woman. And often times, when men would get a view of me standing somewhere, they’d approach to shoot their shot, but when I’d turn and they’d see my condition, suddenly, many of them would lose interest.

And I never considered myself as ugly. I knew that it was because I was different than the norm and sometimes when people are used to the norm, different can seem extreme. So, naturally, in my head, I thought, here we go again. I turned and I waited for the usual reaction, but he simply smiled, with those beautiful full peach-colored lips. 

I squinted my eyes for a second, trying to figure out his angle. He smiled, “So, what has such a pretty lady so happy on a Saturday morning. I’m hoping to attract some of that sunshine.”

He had this pretty pecan color, tall and athletic build, wearing workout gear, calves bulging, this pretty bald head. I nodded and showed him my cellphone. Now, of course, I didn’t show him that text message. I showed him a meme that my cousin Iyanna had sent me.

She was my one and only true friend and would often send me positive messages to brighten my day. This meme was of a fierce model with vitiligo and it said, “Girls with spots rock!” he smiled, “That’s what’s up. I’m Jefferson by the way.” He reached out his hand. 

I shook it, “I’m Elise.”

In my head, I’m trying to figure out what was his motivation. He cleared his throat, “So, Elise, I was wondering if—”

“You seem like a nice guy, but, I’m just not into relationships like that.” I replied. 

His face morphed into confusion yet he chuckled, “what does that mean exactly?”

“It just means, relationships are complicated, people are complicated and I just don’t have time for drama.”

He nodded, “That basically translates to, I’ve been hurt and now, I’m not giving anyone else a chance.”

I shrugged, “More or less, but at least I’m honest. I just wouldn’t want to waste your time.” 

He nodded, “Alright Elise. Hopefully, the next time we meet, you’ll be ready to give a nice guy a chance.” I watched him jog away. He had a nice tight little butt. I smirked.

 As I responded to Darren, confirming our meeting for later that night, I received a call from Hassan. He and I met a couple of years ago before he was married. He was the one that referred Darren to me. They were business colleagues. Hassan bought cars from Darren and Darren sent business his way. 

Hassan owned several beauty supply stores and spas. He spoke with a mild Arabic accent, “Hi baby girl, I want to see you tonight.” he said. 

I smiled as I walked, “But I’m already booked.” I replied. 

“No fucking way Onyx, don’t do this to me.” he demanded. Hassan and I went at it pretty heavy off and on for a year, then he got married and stated he wanted to do things right. Yet every time, he referred someone to me, which wasn’t often, this was actually only the third time, he just had to see me…mostly to try and prove to me, that no other man could fuck me as good as him.

“Now Hassan, I thought you were trying to do the whole dutiful husband thing.” I gently reminded him. 

He laughed, “Come on, what about tomorrow. I can make it worth your wild.”

This intrigued me. He always came through with nice gifts and honestly, he was sweet. He was wild in bed. His tongue game wasn’t as fire as Gianni’s, but he loved to feast from my plate, and he didn’t believe in tapping out; he didn't care if you cried and your whole body shook, he would lick and suck until he was done.

I thought about it as he continued to plead his case, “You know Sundays are usually my recharge days.” I said plainly, but knowing I really wanted to be with him. Out of all the rich men I had been with, he really did sex me the best. He knew how to tease and please.

“Come on baby girl. I miss you.” he said. It was quiet for a moment before I responded. 

"I want to go on the yacht, tomorrow, early.” I could hear the happiness in his voice, 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, should I send a car?”

“I’ll drive.” I replied. The call ended.