by Renta
Tammy couldn’t believe she’d just put her on blast like that. “Now hold up, you stuck up bougie, bitch! I was simply trying to be a friend and offer my advice. You know what? On second thought, you’ve always been spoiled. Always had your nose in the air, like your shit don’t stink. Really tho— really, fuck you, D.”
Destiny smiled at her relative’s anger. Emotions always told the truth and as she digested Tammy’s words she now understood, why she’d always distanced herself from her female relatives. Jealousy, envy, and hate is a deadly concoction, that will taint the heart of any mu’fucka, who sipped from its essence. Destiny grabbed her Tory Burch clutch purse and stood to leave.
“I’m sorry, you feel that way, Tam.” Heated tears began to swim in her eyes.
She placed the oversized square framed pair of Dolce’s on her face before Tammy could have the pleasure of witnessing how much her words affected her.
Tammy pinched the bridge of her nose as the stress she’d been harboring all week came crashing down. As Destiny began to walk away, Tammy’s heart called out to her, “Des—Des—Des, wait.” Destiny stopped but didn’t turn around. “I’m—I’m, so sorry, cousin. All that stuff I said was emotional baggage that’s been having me PMS’ing. You’ve always been my favorite girl. We’re like sisters I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just when you made me look at my own situation—I guess, I just lost it. The truth hurts and everything you said about me was true.” Her own tears now clouded her vision.
“Tam, we’ve never been like sisters. Whether you meant those words or not, words spoken can never be taken back. I won’t hold a grudge, you’re family but it still hurts, because you know how soft my heart is. I forgive you, little cousin.”
Destiny turned and headed for the door. Just as soon as she was about to make her exit, a waitress cut her off.
“Excuse me, Miss—I can see, you’re about to leave. But, you have an admirer, who bought this drink for you. He also tipped me very well to make sure you got it, and this note.” She handed Destiny a Sex on the Beach along with a folded napkin.
“And whom do I owe my appreciation for going this far just to get my attention?” Destiny asked.
The waitress pointed to the VIP Section, but the table she was pointing to was empty, except for a bucket of ice chilling a bottle of champagne.
The waitress seemed bewildered. “I swear he was just there—he was—” she stopped short and a smile kissed her lips.
Destiny stared at her confused and perplexed. The waitress simply pointed indicating someone was behind her. Destiny turned to find a God standing before her. His attire consisted of a burgundy, New Era hat, that sat so low on his head, you could barely see his eyebrows. A burgundy Gucci dress shirt, a pair of white Gucci shorts hanging slightly off his waist, adding edge to his appeal.
To make his ensemble complete, a four-hundred-and-ninety-dollar pair of Pierre Hardy leather high tops adorned his feet. They were burgundy, with white soles a perfect addition to his outfit. A diamond encrusted key pendant, glistened from the forty-inch Cuban link, hanging admirably from his neck. But, it was the two-tone Aviator shades concealing his eyes, that enflamed curiosity as they studied one another.
“Um, thanks for the drink and the ughh—” she stared at the folded napkin. “The umm—napkin.”
The God smiled at her. The bottom row of his teeth was an indication that thirty racks was nothing to fuck off. Normally, mouth jewelry was a complete turn off for Destiny, but this God standing before her was putting on for the black brothers. His aura couldn’t be denied. Destiny took a ladylike sip from her glass. Usually, she didn’t indulge in drinking anything other than a glass or two of wine, but the night held her captive and she desperately needed an escape from her thoughts.
“I’m usually not a man of many words, but from the moment I set eyes on you tonight. I knew I had to step outside of my sense of ordinary if I wanted to get your attention. My truths are either going to scare you away, or you’ll simply respect me for my realism.” He broke the silence.
Due to the music being loud Destiny couldn’t understand what he was saying, she stepped closer allowing the stranger into her space. “I couldn’t understand you over the music. What did you say?”
The stranger gently wrapped his arm around her waist and slightly pulled her into him. Before she could protest his lips were lightly brushing against her ear as he whispered words into her soul, causing her to become confused, wet, and appalled.
“Ever since I kissed you there, I’ve found it hard to control my nature. Maybe it’s the animal in me that has me fiending for your essence and yearning for your attention. I don’t know what it is, but that night you stared into my eyes, I knew you felt it too.”
All at once, fear, and pleasure stirred a hurricane inside of her. The voice, the height, his aura. It was the same attributes she’d been analyzing in her dreams. The same attributes causing her to question her sanity. In sequence, the glass slipped from her hand, the room became too small, her fear became morbid and recognition evaded her senses. Her knees became weak as her mental began to overwork itself.
She wanted to scream but knew she wouldn’t be heard over the loud, obscene music.
Her thoughts ran wild. ‘Why didn’t I just stay home? What does he want? Is he here to finish me off? Why is my pussy so damn wet?’
The stranger could feel her tremors as they raced through her body. He basked in her fear, lust, and realization. It angered him, that even after he’d kill a man for touching her, she still felt the need to fear him.
“Ms. Lady—please don’t fear me. My gangsterisms has so many boundaries when it comes to you. I’d never hurt you and if nobody else knows that truth, you should.”
Destiny moved with caution, as she unwrapped herself from his embrace. To her surprise, he didn’t put up the least bit of resistance. Surprising even herself, she slowly reached up and slid his stunna shades off his face. As she gazed into his exotic colored eyes, heat rushed to her cheeks, and her mind took her back to the dimly lit room she shared with a dead man.
Standing before her was none other than her kidnapper, her savior, the man that killed for her.
“Look—I know this shit seems crazy, maybe even sick. But, I can’t get you off my mind—” He never finished his sentence.
‘Poow!’ Destiny slapped him so hard his thoughts became unscrupulous. “Do you have any fucking idea what you’ve done to my world? Do you think this is some type of amusement to your juvenile ego?” She stared at him incredulously. “Is this some type of game? Are you some type of amateur or something? This is unbelievable!”
The stranger eyed her intensely rubbing the spot she’d just assaulted. He tried to bring some rationality to a situation, that couldn’t be explained after the sin was already committed. “Dig this, lady—I know, that I could—”
‘Smack!’ Another slap caused fire to ignite in his eyes. His first instinct was to grab her by the throat and squeeze the fire outta her, but common sense saved him and her from his animalistic nature.
“Don’t—ever put your fucking hands on me like that. I understand you’re upset. In all honesty, I don’t even know why I’m standing here admitting my identity to the one mu’fucka, that can get me five to ninety-nine years. It’s just that I can’t—I can’t get you—man, fuck this punk shit.” He pushed passed her and walked out into the night.
Destiny stood motionless. “Excuse me, Ms. are you, okay?” A slim, brown-skinned brother asked, as his gaze traveled from her to the shattered glass giving reality to a nightmare she was desperately trying to awake from.
“Huh, what did you say?” she questioned perplexed.
“I asked if you were alright,” the brown-skinned brother repeated.
Destiny knew she must’ve looked like the dead, yet she asked the rhetorical question anyway. “Yes, I’m okay. But, why do you ask?”
The man thought before he spoke. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have stopped for this, Sista.
It’s apparent she’s a couple fries short of a happy meal.’ “Well—you’re blocking the exit, with a crazed look on your face, and shattered glass at your feet. Not to mention, you have tears running down your pretty face.”
Destiny placed her hands to her face. She had no idea, she’d allowed rain to fall from her eyes. “Oh my, God—I can just imagine how crazy, I must look. It’s just that—oh, never mind. I’ll be okay.” Destiny turned on her heels and did the stupidest thing she’d ever done in her twenty-six years of living. She ran after her kidnapper.
***
Assata reversed his G-5 Benz truck into the only empty parking space available. It was a beautiful, Sunday evening in the nutty city of Denton, Texas. Fred Moore park or ‘Fred Mo’ as natives called it was packed to capacity, with ballers, gangstas, women, and children. Assata sat reclined inside the spacious luxury vehicle as six clarion screens illuminated the tinted windows.
MO3’s newest hit ‘Always Be’ blasted from the eighteen-inch speakers, causing the reclined butterscotch seat to massage his muscular back. All eyes focused on the twenty-six-inch big heads glistening under the radiance of the sun.
“Naw, I can’t cuff no hoe and damn, sho I ain’t wifin’ shit/ if it ain’t just ‘G’ down yo’ throat, then yo’ chips is all I can get/dig this-you gone hold me down bitch, when times get this/you gone be around if I go broke and I can’t buy you shit—” he sang along with the verse.
Every nigga in the park glared at the luxury machinery encasing the gangsta’s orbit. Niggas knew how the God that sat behind tint fucked around. He was the typa nigga, that would push a nigga’s wig back for disrespecting him, then attend the same nigga’s funeral simply to pay respects to the man’s family. Not to mention, his squabble game was fierce. Him and Shy’s rep spoke for itself, even after Shy’s demise.
Even though Assata moved solo, niggas still treaded lightly, while in his cipher. Every bitch present felt the power he radiated. His presence sent tension, hate, lust, as well as fear in the atmosphere. Yet, regardless of what was going on around him, he reclined unfazed, ruling his emotions. The truest sense of a black man flowed from his pores fearless like the men of the Mandingo Tribe. His presence heightened the moment.
About fifty feet from the truck four young women, stood to the side of the basketball court, watching as sweaty niggas ran up and down the pavement doing their best impersonations of the And-1 Mixtape. Jazzy stood out amongst the foursome. Her skin looked as if she’d been tanning under the sun on an exotic island. His eyes changed colors as she stared out at the aggressiveness being exuded on the blacktop. Her plump ass and shapely thighs filled out the pair of stretch Oscar Delarenta Jeans that hugged her every curve, to top it all off the fact that, she knew she was a boss bitch sealed the deal.
Marcella her best friend elbowed her. “Um, bitch, ain’t, that your boy’s truck over there?”
Turning to get a better look Jazzy’s eyes became slits as she observed a thick, dark-skinned girl leaning into the driver’s side window. Even though, her and Assata wasn’t an item she couldn’t stop the feeling surging through her. Jealousy was an uncomfortable force when speaking in terms of someone, who one feels should belong to them. Although, Assata wouldn’t so much as kiss her lips ever since the emotional night at her brother’s grave, they’d been vibin’ on the phone day and night.
To her, that meant progress in the right direction. This only made her feel bad about communicating with his enemy, Nutz. It wasn’t like they were doing anything. Nutz was just her playa potna, that she’d always be cool with because he was a real nigga. But she knew Assata wouldn’t dig that he’s always been a protective man. He would never respect a female associating with another nigga. Friends or not. In his eyes, she might as well had been fuckin’ him, cause ultimately that’s where it would lead.
Since she didn’t belong to either man, she didn’t see a problem, kickin’ it with a nigga. She was bossy and would never carry herself like a hoe.
“Yeah, that’s Assata, but he’s not my boy,” she replied rolling her eyes at her girl.
She turned her attention back to the game, but she wasn’t fooling anyone let alone herself.
Marcella continued staring as the chocolate girl flirted with Assata. Her shorts were so short her ass cheeks practically hung out of them.
“Tasteless, bitch,” she murmured.
Gracy made the third wheel of the foursome. “Hump, you ain’t never lied, girl.” She added gazing at the G-5 lustfully. Six pairs of eyes landed on her. “What?” She exclaimed noticing the gaze. “Jazzy, telling the truth, he ain’t no boy. That nigga, Assata’s—all man with his black ass.” She looked at Jazzy. “I’ll snatch his crazy ass up if you don’t want him, Jaz.”
“Bihhh, please, I have the best friend privilege. So, I get dibs on his sexy ass first,” Marcella interjected.
Laughter escaped everyone except, Jazz. Ignoring their banter, she reluctantly, returned her gaze to the chocolate girl now sliding into the passenger’s side of the truck. Enough was enough, it seemed as if her feet had a mind of their own, as she made her move in their direction.
“Jazz, where you going?” Tessa fourth and most diplomatic of the group asked.
Marcella laughed, “Shid, she going to get her man,” she said as she began taking off her earrings.
Assata was just about to put the truck in drive when the passenger door flew open.
“What the fuck?” Chocolate exclaimed staring at the cinnamon-skinned, beauty, interrupting her flow.
“No offense, cutie, but you have to raise up outta this truck,” Jazzy said.
Chocolate stared at her thinking she needed to simply go away. Noticing this girl’s disregard Jazzy decided to take another approach, “Bitch, if you don’t get your fake, Kelly Rowland, lookin’ ass up outta this truck, I’m going to snatch yo—”
‘Baamm!’ Before her sentence could be completed, the chocolate girl shot a quick one to her lips.
“Bitch, back the fuck up off, me.”
At that moment all hell broke loose.
***
Destiny stood outside the nightclub staring bewilderedly into the night. ‘Where could he have disappeared to that quickly?’ Just as the question entered her mind, a black BMW 645Ci pulled to the curb about four feet in front of her. The valet stepped from the 6-series coupe and awaited the owner.
From behind her, a baritone voice caused her to get nervous. “Curiosity is a strange notion, sometimes it can be a good thang, and other times it can be bad.”
“Well, in this case, which is it good or bad?” she countered.
Her strange addiction stepped from behind her, and over to the valet holding his door open.
“Good lookin’, homie.” He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a bankroll. He peeled fifty from the huge stack of his bills and handed it to the young attendant.
“Preciate it, O.G. A nigga need this.”
Nodding his head as a response Nuts turnt his attention back to Destiny. “You come here with somebody?”
Destiny simply stood there and stared at him. Her heart and mind were at war. Sanity and insanity danced to the melodies of rationality’s limits. Without taking her eyes off of him, even though she was scared shitless.
Destiny walked to the passenger door and opened it. “Rather good or bad curiosity has gotten the best of me.” She slid into the seventy-thousand-dollar car.
Chapter Seven
Assata vs. Nutz
~Assata~
“Ooooh, shit Ass—ata—shiss damn, nigga. It ooouu, it feels like you—oouuu, fu—take it.” She sang as she slid up and down my thick eight and half-inch dick.
My mind wasn’t even with this bitch. Until the moment, lil’ mama leaned forward, placed her hands on both sides of my head, her face in the crook of my neck, and started popping her pussy all crazy. The God lost it, I’m not one of them lame ass niggas that be tellin’ a bitch how good her pussy is—making shit up. If the pussy good,
it’s good, if it ain’t I’ma tip the hoe for effort and be in the wind.
But, shorty had me grippin’ her ass cheeks and biting her neck. Isolating her upper body she used her lower half to take a nigga to the place that made the strongest of niggas soft. Six raised herself up, she slid off my dick, until she had only half of it inside of her treasure, and just like that she worked me into a crazed frenzy. All the while, I was trying to pull that ass all the way back down to the base of this dick.
Lady was adamant about driving a nigga crazy. She did her, so I did me. I begin driving upwards. This only enhanced the feeling of pleasure surging through a nigga.
“Damn, ma.” I finally growled. “You tryna make a nigga wife you or sumtin’?”
What I do that for? She slid off me with the quickness and took me in her mouth. My shit hit the back of her throat. Lil’ mama didn’t take her eyes off mine as she swallowed my spirit. Bitch sucked my soul from my body.
After my shit eased Six licked her lips and used her tongue to wipe the last drop of cum that oozed from my nature. She kissed the head and got up without saying a word. I watched her two ass cheeks bounce, as she walked into the bathroom that was adjoined to her room. She didn’t close the door, so I had a clear view as she sat on the toilet and pissed. A nigga had to smile at her audacity. The bitch was a live female and definitely a paper chaser.
She was a yellow bone, long hair don’t care chick, with a light blush of freckles kissing her face. Her chestnut colored eyes sealed the deal. Standing 5’7 and weighing one-hundred, seventy pounds made her just my kind of bitch. She was a dancer at Club Pearls the way her curvaceous frame worked the stage, elevated her to the status of being ‘that bitch’ of the establishment.
After wiping her pussy and washing her freshly manicured hands, she made her way back to the bed with a soapy warm towel. She strode her sexy ass over to me, took my flaccidness into her hand, and began wiping me down. I reached over to the nightstand, grabbed the half-smoked blunt and lighter, and put flame to the drow as my mental strayed once again. All I could think about was Jazzy’s lil’ sexy ass.