THOUGH IT WAS THE MIDDLE OF THE AFTERNOON
, the room was almost completely dark, save for the thin beam that managed to shine through the small space between the heavy drapes. The smell of Egyptian musk incense hung in the air, but you could still pick up the sweet smell of purple haze beneath.
In the center of the room was a vision of a ghetto queen. Her long weave was pinned to the top of her head, but a few strands had managed to snake their way loose. Dressed in nothing but a purple, laced thong and thigh-high hooker boots, you could properly appreciate her large but healthy breasts and extra-large booty. She was slowly swaying to the raspy sounds of Lyfe's “S.E.X,” totally lost in the music.
Lazy was resting on one elbow amongst silken throw pillows like he was the prince of Persia. His ebony skin almost blended perfectly against the black satin sheets. His hair was neatly braided into two French braids that curved behind his earlobes. The half-smoked blunt hanging from his mouth bobbed every time his full lips curved into a smile. If his boys could see him, they would surely say he was the man; but they didn't have to, because he already knew it.
“You like this, Daddy?” she asked, turning around so he could get a better view of her ass.
“You know I do, ma. Make that shit clap for me,” he said in a smooth voice.
She dropped down on all fours and cocked her ass in the air. The young lady began popping her ass up and down on the carpeted floor, causing the cheeks to clap together in a seductive rhythm. Wanting to impress her man, she began popping one cheek at a time in tune with the bass of the song. Slowly she slid further down, spreading her legs until she was in a T position. Moving her thong to the side so he could get a better view, she began opening and closing her pussy lips like it was a fish gasping for air. Looking over her shoulder, she slid one hand around to the back and began sliding her middle finger in and out of her gaping sex.
“Do that shit, girl,” Lazy hissed, stroking his dick with his free hand.
From the thirsty look in his eye she knew she had him where she wanted him. She flipped over onto her back and began finger-fucking herself from the front. Her finger and inner thighs were wet with her juices, making it easier for her to get two more fingers inside. At various speeds she jacked her fingers in and out of her box, making a sloshing noise. By now Lazy's dick was so hard that the front of his Nautica sweat pants looked like a tent, but his face was as cool as the other side of the pillow. Never taking her eyes off of him, she began to crawl on all fours towards the bed.
“Umm, is all that for me?” she asked, rubbing her palm over his erection through his sweats.
“That depends on what you're willing to do for it,” he teased, sliding back a little further onto the bed.
“Baby, you know I'd do anything for this sweet candy.”
“Is that right?” he asked, pulling his penis free and stroking it openly. Though Lazy was a slim dude, his dick resembled a blackened salami roll. He ran his hand up and down his shaft while she looked on in anticipation.
“Anything, Daddy, just let me have a little bit.” She had gone from sounding like a seductress to a fiend in need of a hit.
Lazy paused as if he was pondering something deep, then looked down at her and said, “Suck this dick.”
The command had barely left his mouth before she was on him. She took his thick dick in her hand and gently began running the tip of her tongue around the head. Her mouth felt like a warm spring as she licked and teased him, letting saliva run down the shaft and over her hand. Though Lazy's dick was wide, she had no problems stuffing it into her greedy mouth. The top half went in with ease, yet, getting the rest in proved to be a task; but she loved a good challenge. After two attempts she managed to take almost all of him into her mouth and Lazy felt like he had just stepped into another world.
Skillfully she relaxed the muscles in her throat and took in his entire length. She let him tickle her tonsils before pulling up and going back down again. The wetter his dick got, the easier it got to slip into the back of her throat. Lazy grabbed the back of her weave and began fucking her mouth like it was his first piece of pussy. A less seasoned female would've gagged, but she took it like a soldier, slurping him like a Bomb Pop on a summer day. Sucking dick was one of her favorite pastimes, and she blew Lazy like his was the last dick on the planet.
“Ooh, that's what I'm talking about! Shit, I'm bout to cum!” he whimpered. She tried to pull her head away, but Lazy held fast. With a grunt, his body went stiff and he blew his wad in her mouth.
“That was some bullshit.” Michelle sat crossed-legged on the floor, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“My fault, ma. That shit was so good I couldn't hold it,” Lazy said with a smug grin.
“I'll bet. Well, do what you gotta do to get it hard again so I can get mine.” She attempted to straddle him, but Lazy pushed her off him. “Word, it's like that now?” she said with a major attitude.
“Michelle, I got a move to make right quick. Real talk, I'ma beat that pussy into submission tonight though.”
“Lance,” she called him by his government, “you know I gotta work the night shift at the hospital tonight, so don't try to beat me in the head.” She crawled over to him and started tugging at his sweat pants. “Now, slide back and act like you know, so I can ride this donkey.”
“Later,” he said, standing up and brushing past her. “I'll come by the hospital on your break and fuck you in the linen closet like we did the last time.” He tried to kiss her on the forehead but she moved away. “Why you acting like that?”
“Cause you be on some bullshit. You fuck my weave up and bust in my mouth and you trying to tell me I can't get mine? You know what, fuck it,” she said, getting up off the floor. “I don't know why I continue to fuck around with young niggaz, it takes too damn much to train you.”
She tried to get a reaction out of Lazy, but at best he just raised his eyebrow. “Michelle, I told you before and I'll tell you again, if you feel like that, do what you do. I got love for you, boo, but I ain't never been the nigga to cuff a shorty.”
“I know, cause all I'm good for is fucking and hitting you wit paper,” she said scornfully.
“First of all, I was a young, fly nigga when you met me, so miss me wit the bullshit. Second of all, you know I got love for you, but I ain't gonna keep bumping my head against the wall trying to prove it. Accept my love or don't.” He shrugged his shoulders and walked into the bathroom.
MICHELLE WAS SO MAD THAT
she had to stuff her face into a pillow to muffle the roar she let out. She was horny as hell, and Lazy had the nerve to leave her hanging. If it had been the first time, she might've considered letting the slight go, but he was starting to do it more often. Back when they first met he used to love to fuck her. She could suck him off for a half-hour straight and he would still climb in her pussy and tear the walls down. Now it was becoming a task to get more than a fifteen- to twenty-minute romp out of him. She should've listened to her friends when they told her not to fuck that young boy.
She had met Lazy three months ago when he came through the emergency room of Harlem Hospital, where she worked as a triage nurse. His boy had took a shot in the thigh and was bleeding all over himself. Because he didn't have insurance, the staff didn't move as
fast as they could've to treat him. Sympathizing with their situation, Michelle shuffled the paperwork and got Lazy's man taken care of. To show his appreciation, Lazy brought her a plate from Manna's when she took her dinner break. From the conversation, she knew he was trying to get at her, but it wasn't until they got a little deeper into it that she saw promise in the young boy.
Lazy was a young cat with a hustler's spirit. He had a wisdom about him that you didn't see much in men his age. Of course he was a street nigga, but he was still in school. Lazy got so-so grades, but his skill on the basketball court balanced the scales a bit. He was a six-six guard, and was cooking cats on the high school circuit. It would've been a stretch to say that he was one of the more high-profile recruits, but scouts were definitely paying attention.
Michelle immediately saw the potential in giving him a little taste of her goodies. She made her own money and wasn't pressed for cash, but it was obvious to a duck that Lazy was destined for great things. He was a knucklehead that just needed a little direction. In him she saw a young cat that could be molded to be the heroin lover that she had always dreamt aboutâbut she often wondered if his bullshit was a fair trade on the reward.
LAZY CLOSED THE DOOR BEHIND
him and made sure to lock it. It wasn't unlike Michelle to come barging into the bathroom to catch him in there for some dick. Home girl was a freak to the third power. He had fucked older women before, but Michelle gave him a crash course in
real
sex. She did everything from fucking him in public to licking his ass. Michelle's shot was without a doubt the best he had ever had, and he'd tell anyone that, but she was moving too fast for him. Being eight years older than him, Michelle was a bit more seasoned and focused. While Lazy was thinking about fucking girls and running the streets, her mind was on building a foundation ⦠which, as there was nothing wrong with that, he just wasn't interested in doing with her. For as good as Michelle's pussy was, Lazy's heart was elsewhere.
After cutting on the shower to drown out his voice if Michelle was ear-hustling, he called Dena. He knew she had her heart set on seeing
Dreamgirls,
but he had been so caught up with Michelle that he'd lost track of time. The phone rang three of four times before going to voice mail. The next two calls didn't even ring, just straight to the service.
Yeah, she's pissed.
Of all the chicks Lazy dealt with, not one of them had his heart the way Dena did. She was smart, sexy, and about her business. Dena, too, encouraged Lazy to do something with his talent, but she also knew how to play her position and leave something alone if he wasn't receptive to it. She reasoned that Lazy would see the wisdom in her words or he wouldn't.
“Fuck it,” Lazy said, placing his phone on top of the toilet seat and stripping for his shower. Dena would get over it, she always did.
“COME ON, GET BACK ON D!” BILLY SHOUTED
from the sidelines. “Y'all moving like molasses out there, lets pick up the pace.”
“Coach, we've been running the same play for almost a half hour. Can we get a rest?” a young man with tiny boxed braids in his head asked.
“If y'all would get it right then you wouldn't have to run it so many times. Keep running.” She popped him playfully in the head. Dressed in a tank top and sweat pants, some of the young men found themselves slightly distracted by their new coach. Billy looked like an Eye Candy model, but carried herself like the Gooch from
Diff'rent Strokes
. Some of the new players looked at the pretty young lady quizzically, as if they didn't know whether to take her seriously or not, but the ones that knew her reputation did as they were told.
Coaching the thirteen-and-under team was something that she had recently taken on. Between coaching, attending BMCC, working, and balancing her personal life she hardly had time for sleep, but it didn't bother her too much. Billy had seen firsthand what could happen to kids who didn't have positive outlets, and it wasn't pretty.
The summer before, she had endured the murder of one
of her closest friends, the rape of another, and the suicide of a cat she had known for ages. All this while trying to make sense of her fucked-up life. After the brutal murder of her boyfriend, Sol, she thought she'd never find love in the arms of a man again, but was shown the light by the most unlikely person.
“Stop talking to them kids like that,” Marcus said as he strolled into the gym like he owned it. He wore a tight-fitting red-and-black motorcycle jacket and carried the matching helmet in his hand. A thin film of sweat coated his face, giving him a slight glow, and increasing his already intoxicating sex appeal.
“If they'd run the plays like I drew them up I wouldn't have to scream at them,” Billy said before kissing him passionately. A couple of the boys snickered, but a quick look from their coach sent them back to running the play.
“Sweet as candy,” Marcus said, licking the leftover moisture from his upper lip. Marcus was a former knucklehead who turned himself into a legitimate businessman. He owned a strip club and a Laundromat, and he had money invested into several other ventures. Though he had long ago squared up, he still had that thug swagger about him, which turned Billy on to no end. That's why he was the first cat to get the pussy in the last couple of years.
“You keep talking like that and I might give you some head tonight,” she whispered, brushing herself against him. “What're you doing here?”
“I came to see if my lady wanted to ride on my chariot,” he grinned.
Billy glanced at his helmet. “Not if you're on that death-mobile.”
“Quit being a punk.”
“Call me what you want, but that still ain't gonna get me on that thing.”
“Well, maybe I can get you to ride on this thing.” He grabbed her hand and tried to place it on his crotch, but she snatched it away.
“Don't do that in front of the kids.”
Marcus looked over at the players, who were trying to pretend they weren't being nosy. “Man, this ain't nothing they ain't never seen. Hell, most of them probably get more pussy than I do.”
“You keep talking reckless and that's gonna be a true statement.”
“Anyway”âhe sucked his teethâ“you going to class from here, or you wanna catch a flick?”
“Nah, I don't have class tonight. Me and Reese are supposed to hook up. We'll probably go out for some drinks or something.”
“She better be careful; you remember what happened the last time she got drunk,” he joked, but Billy didn't laugh. “Boo, you know I was just kidding.” He reached for her but she jerked away.
“Well, you've got a fucked-up sense of humor. That girl has been through a lot,” Billy said with hostility. Poor Reese had made the mistake of getting twisted with a group of young rappers and letting them run a train on her, which resulted in an unwanted pregnancy and an STD. Thankfully, she gave birth to a healthy baby girl, but the identity of the father was never discovered.
Marcus's head dipped a bit. “Sorry. That was foul.”
“Just like a nigga.” She shook her head. “I swear, y'all are so insensitive when it comes to certain shit. What if that had been you?”
“I don't think I'd have been too upset if I had fucked five or six chicks at one time,” he snickered. This earned him a hook to the ribs.
“So I ain't enough woman for you?” she snapped.
“Billy, you know I didn't mean it like that.” He rubbed his ribs. “Why you getting so uptight?”
“Cause you don't know what to say out ya mouth sometimes, Marcus!” Some of the kids were starting to look, so Billy lowered her voice. “Look, why don't you just go wherever you were going and I'll catch up with you later.”
“A'ight, boo. I'ma get up outta here,” he said, leaning in to kiss her on the lips, but she gave him her cheek. “Oh, its like that?”
“Its how you made it,” she said flatly.
“I hear that, Billy,” he said as he left the gym.
Billy stared at his departing back so hard that it's a wonder she didn't burn a hole in it. For the most part, Marcus was a very caring and sensitive man, but every so often that ignorant-ass street nigga peeked out. She hated it, but she knew at the end of the day it didn't define who he really was. Regaining her composure, she turned her attention back to the court.
MARCUS STEPPED OUT OF THE
gym feeling like a complete ass. He meant the statement to be a joke, but Billy had caught feelings behind it. The way her moods changed frustrated him to no end. Sometimes they'd be laughing and having a good time and in the next instance she would withdraw or become angry. He tried to be understanding, in light of all she had gone through, but it didn't make it any easier to deal with.
When he stepped out into the afternoon sun he peeped two young ladies admiring his red-and-black Yamaha. One wore a short skirt, while the other had a pumpkin-sized ass stuffed into a pair of jeans that were so tight that they looked liked they might rip if she bent over. They didn't look to be more than seventeen or eighteen, but they turned very seasoned eyes in his direction as he approached.
“This your bike?” the one in the skirt asked.
“Yeah,” Marcus said, easing past them and mounting the motorcycle. Though he tried to ignore their stares, they were both eying him like the last supper.
“Why don't you spin us around the block?” Jeans asked.
Marcus pulled his helmet on, leaving the visor up. “First of all, I ain't never heard of three people on a bike at the same time. Second, I don't think you could handle all this horsepower.” He patted the bike.
“I never met a horse I couldn't ride,” Jeans shot back.
“I'll bet,” Marcus snickered.
“I'm saying though, why don't you give me a number or something so I can get at you later?” the skirt cut in.
“Nah, I don't think my girl would like that.”
“What ya girl don't know won't hurt her,” Jeans said.
“Yeah, but if she finds out she might hurt you. One, shorty.” Marcus revved the engine and peeled the bike into traffic.
CLICK. CLICK. CLICK. JAH SAT
on the couch flipping his phone open and closed, as if through some miracle it would make things
okay. Yoshi had been gone for hours and hadn't called. He thought about calling her, but pride and lack of courage wouldn't allow it. It was amazing that, as assertive as he was when it came to the game, he couldn't quite get it to carry over when it came to his lady. The statement he had made to Yoshi was fucked up, but he didn't mean it like that.
Jah was still a young dude, so he really didn't understand affairs of the heart. He knew that he felt for Yoshi what he had never felt for another woman and it scared the hell out of him. For someone who didn't know what it felt like to be in a relationship with a woman, love was a totally alien concept, so at times he regressed and hid behind his hard-rock persona. He knew he loved her but wasn't quite sure how to articulate it.
His mind spun back to Stacks Green, who was, in essence, the root of the argument in the first place. Jah understood Yoshi wanting him to go out and get money, but what she didn't understand was that it was hard to do business with someone you despised. Granted, a check was a check, but when it was coming from Stacks it felt more like a handout, and Jah was never the one to lean on another man for anything. He came along getting it on his own, so that was his mind-set. When it all boiled down to it, it was a pride thing, and he was never one to compromise his morals, even for Yoshi.
“Fuck it,” he said, flipping the phone open to call Yoshi; but he immediately closed it. No, a call wouldn't do in this case. He would make his apology face-to-face at the video shoot. Besides, it had been a while since he had prowled the jungle, and it would be good to link up with his old comrade Spooky. After placing a quick call to his young comrade Tech, Jah prepared to hit the streets.
“AND WHERE DO YOU THINK
your hot ass is off to?” Reese asked her little sister, Sharon, who was admiring her ample rump in the living room mirror.
“Out,” Sharon said flatly.
“Out where?”
“Damn, Reese, why you sweating me?” Sharon let out an aggravated breath.
“Sweating you? Sharon, you just got in from school and you're going right back out. Whatever happened to studying or homework?”
“I ain't have none,” Sharon lied fluidly.
“Bullshit.” Reese stood between Sharon and the mirror. “I used to run that same lie on Mommy so I could get back in the streets. Now, where are you off to in those tight-ass jeans?”
Sharon turned around and folded her arms defiantly. “Look, if you must know, my home girls are coming up from Brooklyn and we're gonna hang out with Karen and them from St. Nick. You happy now?”
Reese slit her eyes at the miniature version of herself. “You think you're slick, don't you? Y'all little hot bitches is going over to that fucking video shoot!”
“Reeseâ”
“Reese my ass.” She grabbed Sharon by her arms roughly. Reese's eyes were wild with something that Sharon couldn't quite identify. “Ain't nothing coming out that camp but the devil. Little sister, y'all young girls see these cats with they jewels and whips and get too blind to see the fucking forest for the trees. Sharon, you think cause you picked up a little hip and thigh, you got the game figured out, but baby you still got some growing to do.”
“I'm good.” Sharon shook her off.
“I hear that hot shit. You trying to stomp wit the big dawgz in a size-two shoe.” Reese laughed. “Sharon, your little ass is cruising for trouble. You ain't really ready for what the streets got to offer. You need to stay ya ass home once in a while.”
Sharon glared at Reese. “For as much as you run the streets, I know you ain't trying to lecture me.”
“Yeah, I run the streets, but I'm grown. You're a teenager who is trying to grow up too damn fast. I'm telling you Sharon, at the rate you're going you're gonna find yourself in a bad situation.”
“Like you did?” Sharon shot back. “Reese, you can't tell me shit, because you do all the same shit I do. Every time I turn around your
ass is somewhere getting it in wit ya crew, so where you think I got it from? The difference between me and you is, when I finally get pregnant I'm gonna know who my baby daddy is!”
Before Reese had a chance to stop herself she had slapped Sharon across her face. The younger girl flew backward, and if it weren't for the wall she would've landed flat on her ass. Rage flashed through Sharon's eyes and she was back on her feet in an instant. She took a step towards Reese, but common sense didn't let her go any further. Reese had a reputation for being nice with her hands and the look in her eyes told Sharon she was ready to pound her out for her statement. For, however she felt about her older sister, she knew that she couldn't win in a fist fight.
“I can't stand your ass!” Sharon screamed before storming off into her bedroom.
“I ain't too big on your ass either!” Reese called after her. She started to pursue her little sister and give her the ass whipping she had been holding for her, but the sound of Alexis crying brought her back to her senses. Reese went to the other side of the living room and lifted her daughter from the basinet where she had been sleeping.
Alexis represented everything that was good in Reese. She was a jovial child with her mother's smooth coco skin and God only knew whose eyes. In light of how she was conceived it took Reese a minute to be able to bond with the child. When she was born, Reese refused to touch her or feed her in the hospital. The doctor had told Reese's mother that she was suffering from postpartum depression, but that wasn't it at all. Every time she looked at the little girl she was reminded of how she had allowed Don B and his crew to violate her.