When A Woman Hustles by Danielle Martin (books for men to read TXT) 📕

MEET PUMPKIN

"AHHHH... that feel so good baby" Pumpkin dug her nails into the back of his neck as she pulled his face in even closer, his tongue dancing around her clitoris as she twisted her hips. "Mmmm yessss baby." He slid his tongue around her delicate insides one inch at a time. She moaned as she felt her body began to climax. "Oh my God Mason. I’m about to comeeeee.." She continued to rotate her hips as he French kissed her clit, using his finger to massage her as she felt her body release. "Ahhhhhhhh" She screamed out loud as she jerked. He came up for air, his lips moist from her juices. "You going to get on top baby?" He asked a question he already knew the answer to. Pumpkin moaned as her body recovered from the orgasm. "Mmmm." She hummed. "That was good Mason as usual. But I don’t have a lot of time left.” She smiled at him as his face rested in-between her inner thighs. He looks so cute down there. She chanted ins her mind as she admired his magnificent head game. “Maybe we can reschedule." She winked while rubbing her finger across the trace of his lips admiring how full they were. “Mmmmm.” Pumpkin moaned out loud as she thought about taking his mouth for another ride. She looked over, glancing at the grandfather clock that hung over her 62 inch television. It was getting late.  Swiftly, she whipped one leg over his head sitting up in her brown oak canopy bed. He sat up after her, a disappointed expression spread across his face as he watched Pumpkin hop up to her feet. Her long ginger red hair weave fell down her back brushing against the top of her ass. It was 6 o’clock. She had lost track of time. 
  "Hmphhhh." Mason shook his head as he sat on the edge of the bed, his abs glistening from sweat as he stared at her. His erection poked out of his sweats which secretly made her feel horrible for leaving him hanging. It was not intentional. "I don't know how much more of this I can take Pumpkin." He spoke firmly. 
She knew that was coming next. Pumpkin stood in front of her full length mirror sliding her denim dress over her shoulders. She allowed the fabric to swallow her coke bottle figure as stood back to examine herself. Tonight, she was going for the classy and professional look. She ran her fingers down the side, smoothing out any visible wrinkles. Pumpkin glanced at him out of the corner of her eye while he watched her dress. His facial expression was less than enthusiastic as she sat on the edge of her bed quietly. "What’s wrong with you Mason?" She asked as if she didn’t know the answer. They had this conversation plenty times before and it was a conversation she was not looking forward to revisit. 
He took a deep breath, knowing she was playing the innocent card. "You know exactly what’s wrong." Mason stood to his feet, approaching her from behind. She held her breath as his 6'5 frame towered over her making her feel 2 feet small. Pumpkin turned around to face him. "You never let me make love to you anymore." He spoke in a disappointed tone. "You get whatever you want from me then you toss me to the side. Like I’m not good enough or something."
 Oh God here we go again. She chanted inside her head. Pumpkin bit her lip while looking away, her guilty conscience taking over. "That's not true." She spoke in her defense. She pressed her lips together. There was nothing else to say about it and she didn’t know how to explain. She was out of excuses. He didn’t appear happy with her response as he smacked his lips. Pumpkin crossed her arms across her chest as she momentarily
stared Mason down from head to toe. His forearms were neatly decorated in black tattoo ink. She admired his firm body build, toned muscles and smooth exfoliated caramel skin. She began to wonder what the hell was wrong with her to pass up a black man this fine. She had been dating Mason for about 6 months. Meeting him was accidental. He worked for a delivery company in the area and constantly delivered packages in her neighborhood. Pumpkin remembered watching him drive by every day in his big brown truck. Mason was handsome, friendly, and respectful. Although she had no intentions on dating or getting serious with any man right now, she couldn’t help herself the day he stepped foot on her doorstep to deliver her flat screen television. She remembered licking her lips as she stared her prey up and down, turned on as he unknowingly dropped off her package unaware that he was about to be her next victim. After that day, she had Mason completely wrapped around her finger. He came to visit her every Tuesday and Thursday faithfully. He would cook her dinner and she didn’t mind because he was an excellent cook. After dinner and a movie, he would eat her pussy like a mad man then fall asleep lying next to her after she came up with an excuse to not have sex. She sighed, knowing that using him this way was wrong, but she couldn’t help it. Pumpkin kept her guard up for an extremely valid reason and keeping Mason at a distance was for his own good. Her life was complicated, and there was no room to get involved with anyone. There was too much on the line.
  "Look," She placed the palm of her hands on his broad shoulders, looking him into the eye. Pumpkin began to wander what life would be like if she actually took him serious. Physically, Mason was perfect. Women practically fell to his feet when he walked into a room. But something inside of her could not connect to him emotionally. She knew there was a reason behind it, but she didn’t want to admit what that reason was.

"I need you to understand Mason.” She continued. “I'm not trying to catch feelings for you. We're having fun. I thought you were cool with that?"
Pumpkin questioned. She told him the deal from the beginning. This was the reason she hated to date even if it was only casual. Men could not resist her and always wanted to get serious, which is something she never wanted with anyone in these streets. Mason smacked his lips, clearly not buying her story. "Come on Pumpkin, you’re not being fair. I come over here every week and I do everything you ask me to do. But you don't do anything for me" He protested. Pumpkin cocked her head to the side knowing exactly what he wanted. She could throw him back onto the bed and fuck him real good. That would shut him up at least for a couple days. But she wasn’t feeling it and did not like the pressure he was applying.
Pumpkin sighed while turning on her heel. She walked towards her vanity set that sat in the corner of her bed room. Plopping down on the seat, she began scanning her collection of perfumes. She picked up a blue container, dabbing her wrist with Vera Wang body oil. It was getting late. The sun was beginning to set. Shit. She didn’t have time for the small talk anymore. 
"Listen, Mason." She stood back up and walked over to where he stood. Pumpkin pulled his face down so she could plant a kiss on the side of his cheek. He didn’t intercept as she placed her lips to the side of his face. "I'm going to make everything worth your while, I promise." Pumpkin attempted to coax him.
  He eyed her. She couldn’t tell if he believed her or not. As of right now, she didn’t care. Pumpkin refused to sink on his love boat no matter how hard he tried to pull her down. She would have said anything to bring him back to shore. "Just give me some time to get my head together, Ok?" Pumpkin looked up at him pleading with her eyes. He took a deep breath. Thankfully he was giving in. "Okay." He spoke quietly. He was let down, but Mason knew better than to press the issue. Pumpkin was a tough cookie. 
  "So...” He asked jumping off the subject. “It’s 6 o’clock. You push me out of here every Thursday around the same time. Are you ever going to tell me what you do for a living?" he asked.
Mason hit her with a curve ball as he questioned her. Pumpkins smile faded. The room grew silent as she hesitated before giving a response. "Ummm...” She stammered. He’s going way too fucking deep now. She chanted inside of her head, secretly wanting to run out of the room before he began to interrogate her. He awaited an answer. She didn’t have one to give. Her heart thumped inside her chest causing her anxiety to kick in as they locked gazes. She hated talking about work. She hated making up lies. “Let me guess,” Mason interrupted her thoughts. “You keeping that part of your life away from me too, huh?” he asked.

Yes. Pumpkin answered him inside her head but didn’t dare say it out loud.

 "I told you I’m an entrepreneur." She told the half-truth. “I make my own schedule.” She answered him, satisfied with her response. Technically it was not a lie. He turned his nose up as if he were preparing to probe for more information. She hoped he wouldn’t. Pumpkin knew it was a matter of time before he began asking questions. She dreaded the moment as it approached. “Come on Pumpkin.” Clearly, he was not giving up. “You live in this big ass house. You drive a range rover for heaven’s sake. Did you hit the lotto or what?” he asked sarcastically. She laughed. He didn’t laugh with her. Pumpkins smiled faded as she rolled her eyes. Seldom did she ever invite folks to her home. Her life was private for a reason. She couldn’t open up or discuss that reason with anyone. There was too much at stake. She had to get off this conversation now before he went too deep.

Pumpkin stepped forward invading his space as she cradled him in her arms. She pressed her crotch up against his erection which slightly grew as she straddled him. "I promise things will be different very soon." She whispered into his ear. Pumpkin could hear him lightly moan while she stroked his manhood. She knew his weak spots and how to distract him.

"I wish you would stop teasing me like this." He spoke in between moans while he closed his eyes, embracing her touch as she held him. He was so vulnerable. Again, her guilty conscience took over.  Despite her inability to connect, Mason was a good man and deserved a good woman in his life, even if she was not the one for him. Pumpkin hated the thought of giving him up but knew it was selfish to hold onto this forever.  She began thinking about her life and what it was that made her this way. Growing up on the rough side of Baltimore, Pumpkin never had it easy and had to learn early that hustling was the only way to get what you want in life. With a drug addicted mother and a drug dealer for a father, she was raised bouncing from house to house, sleeping on couches and living in homeless shelters when there was no money left. Pumpkin was 32 years old now. Her past was behind her and she had no plans on looking back. The day she left Baltimore was the day her entire life changed. Instead of moving far, she purchased her very first home on the outskirts of Phoenix, Maryland about