SeraphNocturne
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jul 11, 2015
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Name: Aliyah Tatianna Williams
Age: 26 Years
Ethnicity: 3/4 African America, 1/4 Dominican
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It didn't matter where she came from... Aliyah T. Williams knew that deep down in the depths of her heart her blood ran blue, her skin thick, her wits were sharp about her and that grit that came from being born and bred in the City that Never Sleeps was unmistakable. It didn't matter what designer catalog her blouses might have come from, how neatly pressed her black pencil skirts were, or how expensive her pumps were... she came at the world one hundred and ten percent as if she had nothing at all. Aliyah knew that the only way to succeed in life was to take what you wanted, that nothing in the world was free, and unfortunately not everyone could be blessed with a rich Mama and Daddy to hold your hand through your fuck-ups, bad decisions and mistakes.
She had her fair share of hardships. Growing up in the projects of Spanish Harlem was a story a lot of people told... having a drunk for a mother who was always bouncing from strip-club to motel-room, not so much. Deadbeat father long ran off to Chicago with some hussy and her three kids... typical. Growing up smack in the middle of six kids with three much older brothers and two baby sisters was a nightmare.
All she had to herself was her mind... she was smart. School was damn boring and the teachers didn't give a fuck but she knew the only way out was through a book. So she dragged her ass in there and barely tried, and they hated her for it, because she could sleep through half the class and do her homework on the way to the bus and still excel. With nobody to keep her on it though and nobody really caring what did it matter, at the end of the day? That shit didn't put food on the table. Somebody was going to be hungry if her Mama decided she wasn't coming home that night and unfortunately her brothers learned a long time ago that it was every man for himself. So... it wasn't much a surprise that around sixteen years old, fed up and desperate, Aliyah had to do something she was neither proud of nor akin to. Took an offer from a rather notorious man in the neighborhood--the same guy she and her friends bought their dimebags from at school, and decided to meet him at a house party to discuss.. "business". She rooted through her mother's closet for a pair of red-bottom heels and a short black form fitting dress, left her hair in the springy tight spirals that they typically were and headed out with no make-up on and butterflies in her stomach.
She was out of place. She looked as young as she was... the heels were a tad too big. She'd brought her purse and was clutching it nervously as she was escorted through a crowded room, rap blasting in the background, smoke heavy in the air with all sorts of scents and things she wasn't used to. And there he sat, perched on a sofa surrounded by thugs and their hoes. Her escort--a football player and senior from school who wasn't too keen on her being there, left her before the man known in the area as 'Ice D'. It was a simple job... he needed a new 'promoter' in the clubs--just a pretty face to wander around and push off little samples and bags to prospective customers. She needed a fake ID and some quick cash. Harmless. She set it up that night not expecting that the very next she'd find herself being offered money to dance with a man in the strip club she was hustling... and then the very next week, the same man to arrest her after baiting her into taking money for sex--right after she had re-upped on 'samples' to toss around the club.
That was seven counts of possession of an illegal substance with intent to distribute, and one count of prostitution. Of course, she wouldn't talk to the police any more than she had to. She wasn't a snitch. And Juve wasn't fucking summer camp... sixteen was a hell of an age to have marks on one's permanent record.
It was behind her now, though. She'd worked hard and by the book this time around... she did what she had to get the credentials, the skills, she learned how to word herself properly to meld almost seamlessly into the background. The seventh time was the charm. She came into the company new and fresh in a temporary position and eased her way into the Administrative Office. The life of the clerk was simple enough--easy numbers, microsoft word, fresh pots of coffee... don't forget to smile. It was pretty rigid and routine, but having a certain time to get up and a morning ritual wasn't that bad. She smiled when she woke up in the morning knowing the lights would be on and if she wanted to, she could afford to leave the TV on for her cat when she went to work. She zipped around her little one bedroom studio apartment in the same way at five fifteen every morning--first the shower, then hair, make-up, clothes. Feed the cat and let the window cracked so she could sit on the fire-escape. Don't forget your keys. Focusing on life this way made it easy to ignore the one she left behind, and the only time she had to think about that now was during holidays or... if in the most unfortunate event the family needed to gather to mourn. Once that was done she gathered her bag--placed her pumps in there, the make-up she would need to touch-up after one o' clock crept past, and started out for the train.
To be honest... she didn't really care about how the company did. They specialized in travel and lodging, so there was always money to be made... always a new exciting quota or impressive numbers of progress. What she did care for was maintaining her anonymity, and making the day go by faster. Seven to two in the afternoon from Monday to Friday, with weekends off, was the schedule of dreams... if you could survive the first year of staring at three drab grey walls and a computer screen with little opportunity to stand or walk that is. Every now and then that meant wiggling her way around the firewall to websites she probably shouldn't be visiting. She'd take a call at her leisure if the day was particularly slow. For the most part she was alone in her little cubicle, quite invisible to the world and off the radar, scheduling appointments and transferring calls of the company's clients. She did her job well despite her few discrepancies. And it was probably for the best.
This morning the CEO was on the floor. She'd arrived early, slipping into the bathroom and carefully fluffing the bouncy brown spiral curls of her hair, leaning forward in the mirror to inspect her eyeliner. A perfect cat's eye, of course... she didn't know why she was tripping over it. Ever so gently she smoothed today's violet shade over her full lips, and pressed them together in a gentle kiss to the mirror before smiling brightly. It was gonna be a madhouse today... and the supervisor would be hawking over everyone's shoulder which meant it was going to be a boring day. But, if things went well, it was always a good time to try and impress the big-wigs upstairs. Who knew. Maybe they'd consider moving her up to managing an account. She checked the buttons of her white blouse, smoothing her fingers down her pert chest and flat stomach to the supple curve of her hips, and turned on her heel, the beige Jimmy Choo pumps clicking lightly as she exited the bathroom and headed down the aisle to her cubicle... no doubt turning the head of every man in her wake.
