Read IT WAS ALL A DREAM (1) Online

Authors: KELVIN F JACKSON

IT WAS ALL A DREAM (1) (2 page)

 

             
Had she known that she was starting a habit that she would carry with her for years to come, she would have never taken that first puff. K gave it to her and after choking and gagging off the first two pulls, her eyelids began to get heavy and she couldn’t stop smiling. Before she knew it three quarters of the blunt was gone and they had both totally forgotten about the food.

 

             
“I want something to drink. My mouth is dry,” said Mattie with a silly ass look on her face.

 

             
But K also recognized another familiar look. He made her a rum and coke which she drank entirely too fast. He made it a little strong and she frowned from the burn when it went down.

 

             
Then it happened.

 

             
She slowly put her index finger between her teeth and smiled a wicked seductive smile.

 

             
“What?” K asked

 

             
“My pussy is tingling,” she said falling back on the couch, pulling off her thong and skirt in one swift motion.

 

             

What 
tha
-?” he started but she quickly cut him off.

 

             
“I want you to fuck me right now! “She said in a tone of voice that left no room for questions.

 

And for the next two hours she asked for it and got it in every position possible. As K pounded the pussy in the scissor position, she felt sensations that she didn’t know existed.                  

 

“Oh…oh…oooohh…shit
!Why
…does…it…feel…so…fuckin…goooood?!Daddy…
oooh 
shiiit
! “
she
moaned in ecstasy.

 

             
Ever since then she kept a sack on standby. But smoking weed had also become a way that she was able to temporarily escape her reality. And so she puffed away as she rode and listened to her music. Ten minutes later she could see the lights of her extravagantly lit up workplace. It was only an eight dollar fare, but she always gave Paul $20 because he didn’t make passes at her and he let her smoke her weed.

 

             
“We’re here,” Paul said as he swung the cab into the crowed parking lot.

 

             
He knew that he would get his usual twenty bucks from Mattie and that would give him just enough to go over to Wyandanch and get him a gram for $40 from a new spot that had just recently opened up shop. Fuck it, he thought. If he had to drive a couple towns over to cop, he knew he would get more bang for his buck.

 

             
Mattie gathered her bags and removed her wallet from her bag. She removed a twenty dollar bill and handed it to Paul.

 

             
“You know I always look out for you,” she said to Paul.

 

             
She returned her wallet t
o her bag, but didn’t realize that she’d dropped something.

 

             
“See
ya
soon Paul,” she said climbing out of the cab with her bags and closing the door.

 

She never looked back as she went to work in
one of the biggest strip clubs o
n Long island.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                               
CHAPTER 2

 

 

 

The unmarked undercover police cruiser rolled slowly past the large circle of hustlers as weed smoke hovered above the crowd. White clouds floated slowly across the parking lot and thickened the air
of the mild early August evening
. The crowd temporarily tensed up and a few c
ats removed their hoods in a wea
k attempt to not look suspicious. They watched out of the corners of their eyes until the cruiser bent the corner on their routine pass through and then the scene returned to normal.

 

“Aight-all down is a bet!

K yelled out to the other hustlers participating in the
cee
-lo game.

 

Nume
rous bets dropped to the black top
parking lot in front of the other 15 players. Bets ranged from the ten dollars from those trying to make a come-up, to two-hundred dollars and better around the inside of the circle.

 

“What’s the bank K?” Duke called out.

 

“Bank Money!
If you drop it, it’s covered,” said K shaking the dice about to roll. K’s two young gunna’s
Shooky
Brim aka Pookie and Billy Blass held him down wit da burners watching his back and making sure aint nobody try no slick shit.

 

“I’m coming out!” K stated as the dice left his hand and bounced towards the center of the large circle.

 

The dice came to a halt on three sixes.

 

“3 sixes!
Mark of the beast! Nobody
move
, you know what it is,” K said as he made his way around the circle picking up bets and handing the money to Blass who was holding the bank.

 

“Dam K, you on fire tonight!
You aint rolled a point under a five in the last 20 rolls, “said GS Mike Seabury.

 

“This whip
hand fam.
A
nything
I touch
wit
it blow up! “
Said K talkin big shit.

 

Just then a car
ful
l
of outta town cuties pulled in the parking lot and slowly rolled past the game eyeing the
Crimedanch 
hustlas
curiously. They pulled to the rear of the parking lot and found a spot where they could enjoy the show. And a show it was. Always! As a matter of fact they were only one car of many that filled Kentucky Fried Chicken parking lot on the fast paced active Friday night.

 

It was a typical pa
yday in the hood. There were
maa
d
(a lot of)
crackheads
moving with motivation as money exc
hanged hands quicker than Wall Street. The mixed smells of the C
olonel
’s original recipe and the Chinese food
spot with the banging house specials across MLK Boulevard
aka
Straight Path
made it a constant battle of which type of grease the blunt smoker’s munchies would lead them to.

 

K had b
een home from a short stint in c
ounty jail for a few weeks and was already hugging the block like he never left. At 290 poun
ds he
was to hustling what Barry White had been to R and B. But to the niggahs in his hood h
e was $K-Money$; k
nown for his c
ar and hustle game
.

 

“Yo Pook.
Let me hit that,” K stated reaching for the 40 ounce of St. Ides malt liquor he was holding.

 

Pookie handed K the bottle and
whispered
,

Yo, my cousin from Central Islip just pulled up. He called earlier and said he needed a big 8 if I could find it for him.”

 

“ I
  gotta check and see what I got left, but I should have at least that. He
know
the numbers (price) is the same as last time, right?

 

“$ 2,750.”

 

“No doubt.
Go
holla
  at
em’ and find out what’s up.”

 

After a couple more rolls of the dice, K lost the bank to a ten dollar bettor that rolled 4-5-6. That meant automatic surrender of the bank and the timing was perfect. He counted his winnings as him and Billy Blass were walking away from the game. Minus the $1500 K had in his pocket before the game, he had a total of $4,200 in profit. Not bad for a couple hours killing time. K took out $1200 and gave it to Pook and Blass to split for holding him down.

 

After Pook talked to his cousin, he met up with K and Blass as they were headed to the rental car.

 

“He said he want a
bigs
(
125 grams)
and another half a big (62 ½ grams) if you got it. He said it’s poppin in his hood and the block is dry.”

 

“I got the big 8 fa-sho, but its Friday and I got 3 spots to supply. I only brought 840 grams uptown yesterday and I’m still in grind mode trying to get back on top,” said K putting the rental in drive.

 

“I know K. And I know you been looki
n out
cause that’s my
fam
. Do wha
t you can and he
just gotta
understand it is what it is.”

 

It was true K wanted to get all the money from the sale, but the risk and profit margin didn’t add up to it being worth it.

 

“He’s gonna meet us at my mom’s crib
. I told him to give us around 15
minutes,” said Pook.

 

They pulled away from the parking space and headed to K’s stash house.

 

“Yo K man, I’m glad you back in the
tha
hood. Shit been fucked up since you bounced down to Virginia on the run last year. Me and Pook just barely been
keepin
our heads above water,” said Blass.

 

“You know this hustling shit aint really our thing no way K. I’d
ratha
let a monkey
mafucka
make it, so I can come thru and take it
,
” said Pook.

 

Pook was about 5’8 tall, medium build and brown skin. Blass was 5’5 with a medium dark complexion and sported a low cut with waves.

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