Montega

by Keon Smith

  “It’s so sticky in here. I need to get in the shower,” she said, trying to avoid him for a moment.

  Montega kept his eyes on her ass bulging out of her Tory Burch jeans all the way to the bathroom. She knew he was watching her, so she put an extra twist in her hips. Stopping at the bathroom door, she turned around to catch him gawking. But Montega was not a man who hid his intentions from women.

  Just knowing he wanted her made her extremely moist between her legs. “Why are you staring like you want to join me or something?” she asked with a sultry voice before walking into the bathroom.

  Montega gulped the rest of his drink, set it down on the coffee table, and headed after her. He got there just as she was bending over to pull down her jeans. The view of her hairless pussy and heart-shaped ass was enough to make his mouth water, and in no time, he was out of his clothes and following her into the steaming overhead shower.

  Samorah turned around to gaze at him as the water cascaded down their bodies. He was nude and extremely muscular for a slim guy. The top of her head came to his chin. He towered over her. Looking down at his erection, she was shocked by the size. Montega placed his arms around her waist as she wrapped hers around his neck. He moved his hands behind her, squeezed her soft ass, and then propped her up against the cold walls. Samara invited him between her thighs, guiding his hardness into her wet slot. A moan of delight escaped from her soft, pink lips. Montega filled her insides until pelvis bone met pelvis bone.

  “Ummmh!” he said with an unsuspected burst of appreciation for good pussy.

  She was just the right fit and very light. He slowly slid in and out of her, enjoying the way her forehead rested against his own. Her pillowy boobs sat on his chiseled chest like two overfilled water balloons, and her ass sat in his palms like two balls of cotton candy. Samara kissed his lips again before she threw her head back and moaned with pleasure as he drove his lustful sword through her, deep enough for the hilt of his waist to touch hers over and over again. His chest smothered her breasts to the point she could feel his heart thundering with excitement.

  “Oh, Ken-ney, uhhh!” she moaned, while stroking the nape of his neck. Her body thumped against the wall, making a whole-note sound of base. Montega grimaced as he picked up the pace, pounding her pussy like an oilrig drill. The feeling sent Samorah into a lustful frenzy.

  She arched her back more, perking up her chest to squeeze both her breasts together, and fed him like an infant. Montega licked her pink nipples, enjoying her alluring rack and the wet taste of her skin.

  “Ummm, that feels so good. You feel so good in me,” she whispered as her body began to tremble.

  “I like the way you takin’ this dick, but I’m ’bout to stop with the teasing.”

  “Do what you have to do, handsome.”

  Montega pulled out and turned her around. Samorah pressed her hands against the wall as if she were good for a pat-down. Wrapping his palms around her wrists, he guided her hands higher. He then took her by the waist, pulled her back so that she bent over, and entered her again. This time, he launched his shaft in and out of her like a torpedo. Her ass waved to the impact of penetration, clapping against his thighs. Everything had happened so quickly, and his excitement shot to the roof. Looking down at the way her soft body responded to his thrust, he felt himself ready to release his seed. He pulled out and tried to stop himself from getting too excited, squeezing the base of his shaft while trying to control his breathing. Samorah turned to see what the problem was and grinned. “Who’s teasing who?” she asked.

  Montega took a deep breath as he looked her in the eyes. Watching the way her ass clapped had almost brought him to an early climax. He wasn’t ready to tap out, not when he was just getting started.

  “Why don’t we take this someplace else?” he asked before scooping her up into his arms and carrying her wet body to the bedroom.

  Once they got there, he laid her on the bed. The cold, crisp sheets became damp instantly. He then spread her legs and put his face between her thighs, licking her throbbing clitoris. Samorah moved her body in a snake-like dance as she oozed with flavor. Montega had her right where he wanted her.

  She wiggled and whined and clawed at his head while enjoying his magical tongue. She then opened her eyes and looked down at him to find him watching her reaction to his touch. His tongue trailed her smooth pelvis up to her breasts. He cuffed and squeezed them firmly. His arms, cut and swollen, crawled forward like an alligator over top of her. He teased her breasts and watched her facial expression again. She tightened her jaw against the cries that wanted to escape her. They echoed throughout her mind like an empty hallway.

  His fingertips trailed to the back of her knees, causing them to rise and bend. Chills climbed her thighs, forcing anticipation in her gut, along with the throbbing pulsation growing between her legs. His gaze and domination pose made her body tremble. His eyes were so dark but so beautiful. He was admiring the color of her pupils and how it complemented her damp skin. Her smile brought him back to reality. She’s definitely the one for me, he thought.

  When he entered her again, Samorah wrapped her arms around him, sliding her hands up and down his back as he delivered himself deep into her abyss. She moaned softly each time. He put both of her legs on his shoulders and continued thrusting.

  “Oh God, boy, you’re in my stomach!” she moaned. “Uhh! Oh shit, I’m cummin’!” Her legs began to quiver.

  Grabbing her ankles and compressing her legs to her breasts, he drilled her with every inch of himself. Stroke after stroke, he felt the intensity grow until he was out of breath. His face twisted up as he released all that was built up inside of him. Her insides had never felt so warm as he filled her with seeds then laid on top of her, out of breath. Neither wanted to move and mess up the bond that they had just shared. Samorah was more shocked than tired. No one had ever brought her to such a climax before. It had all felt unreal.

  Every guy she dealt with had flaws when it came to sex; they either couldn’t get up because of intimidation, or they went out too fast from anticipation. She had a sex drive that could shame the most energetic men. Montega, however, was different. She realized this, but her instincts troubled her. Samorah knew that she had to be careful with him, because her feelings were getting too intense, way too fast. Not only was he handsome and fun to be with, but he could also fuck like a sex god. The last thing she wanted was to end up with a broken heart. She rested her head on his chest. He placed his arm around her, which really surprised her. Before she knew it, she was fast asleep.

  The next morning, Montega awoke to the sound of his cell phone. He reached over on the nightstand and picked it up.

  “Yo,” he said, sitting up in bed.

  “Aye, shawty, where you at?” Rodney asked.

  “I’m out. Why? Something wrong?”

  “Yeah, something’s wrong. You ain’t here. Remember that guy I was tellin’ you about? Well, he on his way over, so you better get yo’ ass here before you miss out on the opportunity of a lifetime.”

  When Montega hung up with his cousin, he took a long stretch before yawning. Samorah sat up slowly on the bed just as his phone started to buzz again. “Somebody’s got a hotline,” she teased while holding the sheets over her breasts.

  “Yo,” he answered again.

  “What’s up?” Tasha replied with a hint of hostility.

  Montega looked over at Samorah and shushed her with his index finger. “Damn, Tasha, why you sound like that?”

  Samorah smiled devilishly then rose to her knees. Her covers fell from her naked body. She moved in close and began kissing his neck. “What do you mean, why do I sound like this? Why haven’t you been to see me lately? I know you haven’t left Atlanta yet,” she complained.

  “Chill,” Montega whispered to Samorah, who was licking his chest.

  “Don’t tell me to chill,” Tasha snapped. “Where have you been?”

  “I been chillin’ with Rodney. Damn, why you bug
gin’?” he asked, trying to stop Samorah from tantalizing him.

  Samorah decided to take her fun to the next level. She grabbed his hand and placed one of his fingers into her wet pussy. The feeling of her spongy insides sent his rocket to the moon. Montega saw that she was getting a kick out of all of this and shoved his finger deep inside of her. Samorah made an incredible sex face. She pushed the covers from over his lap and went down on him. Bringing him back to reality, Tasha shouted, “Boy, you are a fucking liar because I called Rodney, and he said that you were out. What? You think I’m stupid?”

  “Yesss,” he said, with pink, warm lips and a wicked tongue caressing his erect penis.

  “What!”

  “I mean… no,” he corrected himself as Samorah worked him over. It was extremely hard to get a word out with the head he was getting.

  “Boy, are you listening?” Tasha pressed him

  “Tasha, you gotta calm down,” he said, almost moaning out the words.

  “You know what, Kenny? You ain’t shit. I was tryna give you the benefit of the doubt. Had you been a man about it and just told me you were fucking Samorah, I wouldn’t be so mad.”

  “Aight, I’m fuckin’ Samorah. You happy now?” he said, watching Samorah deepthroat him while he played with her pussy.

  “Ohh, it’s like that! You know what? The next time we bump heads, you’re gonna wish you never met me. I swear,” she said before slamming the phone down in his ear.

  Montega paid her no mind. He lay back on the bed, feeling like a king. His eyes were rolling in the back of his head as he erupted like a volcano down Samorah’s throat.

  The Plug

  “Today can be your lucky day… or your worst nightmare…”

  Carlos Morin

  An hour later, Montega was out of Samorah’s condo. He got in his car and drove to Rodney’s house, exhausted. Samorah was definitely a handful, and if he wasn’t careful, she could possibly steal his heart like a thief in the night. Not only was she paid, but she was also a stone-cold freak. The entire night was a rather erotic experience he had not anticipated. She did things with him that he’d only seen in pornography magazines because in the public eye, they were just downright nasty. But for some dark, odd reason, it made him like her even more.

  Once Montega opened the door, he spotted Rodney seated on the couch across from a Spanish guy with oily, jet-black, shoulder-length hair. He was conservatively dressed in a pair of tan slacks, brown Salvatore Ferragamo shoes, and a short-sleeved button-up. The man rose to match his size as he walked in.

  “Carlos, this is my cousin, Montega. This is the guy that I’ve been trying to get to come down here for so long. Montega, this is Carlos Morin. He’s from Miami.”

  Montega shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Morin,” he said.

  “Likewise. Your cousin here has told me much about you. He also tells me that you’re looking for a line. Why don’t we take a little ride so we can talk in private?” Carlos said, tossing Montega the keys. “You drive.”

  When Montega got outside, he and Carlos walked to the blue Mercedes Benz CL550.

  “Nice wheels you got here,” Montega said, deactivating the alarm before getting in.

  “What? This piece of shit? It’s only a rental,” Carlos said modestly, getting into the passenger side.

  Carlos directed him down to Simpson Road, which was the hood for real. As Montega drove down a block, Carlos had him pull over in front of a deli on the corner. Across the street was a small crowd of dope boys gambling on the steps. Montega noticed one with an iced-out chain that had the initials ‘TG’ hanging from his neck.

  Even from a distance, he could tell he was the one running things. “You see that guy right there?” Carlos asked, pointing to the man with the tattoo under his left eye and the shining chain. “That’s Tommy Gun. Have you heard of him?”

  “Rodney said something about him running Atlanta. What is he doin’ out here in the open like he one of the dope boys?” Montega asked, watching the man fondle his girlfriend in broad daylight. There were four guys that looked like stiffs around him. The girl, however, was nice looking and had the signature down-south booty.

  He recalled seeing her somewhere but hadn’t the faintest idea where. There were so many alluring women in the city; it was hard to pinpoint where he saw her before. “Rodney said that he was considered untouchable,” he went on to say.

  “And does he look untouchable?”

  Montega scanned the area and saw how easy it was for stick-up boys to run down on the guy.

  “Put it this way,” he said. “If this was Philly, he wouldn’t even make the menu. He’d just be a snack.”

  Carlos gave him a weak smile then told him to pull off. He had Montega drive all the way to Buckhead this time, where Carlos’s nice, five-bedroom home was located.

  When the two walked inside, the first thing Montega noticed was its darkness. It had a scent of a familiar fragrance. The place was spacious but cozy with a living room of white and blue furniture that appeared outside the foyer. A ninety-inch flat-screen TV sat on a stand facing a recliner the same color as the other furnishings. There were no pictures hanging around anywhere, no certificates, no diplomas, no nothing. Montega figured this couldn’t have been a house where Carlos rested his head. He also noticed the kitchen light was on, so he assumed someone else was home.

  “It’s about time my sister remembered this address,” Carlos said. “I haven’t seen her in a while. I thought maybe she might’ve already headed back home.”

  Montega listened to Carlos speak of his sister. Before he could ask her name, she began to descend down the staircase. When she got to the bottom, she stopped in her tracks and looked as if she had seen a ghost.

  “You think you could come home once in a while to check on your brother?” Carlos said in Spanish, but she didn’t respond. She was too busy looking at the guy beside him. “Samorah, this is a friend of mines. He goes by the name, Montega.”

  “That’s funny. I thought his name was Kenny,” Samorah replied, causing Carlos to look at them both.

  Her eyes never left Montega’s, and she didn’t look happy.

  “Oh, I see. You two know each other.”

  “It’s a small world,” she said with irritation.

  Carlos patted Montega on his back. “You really do get around, don’t you? I’m surprised. My sister hates everyone she comes in contact with. I like you already. Come. Take a seat over here. Samorah, why don’t you get me and your friend here something to drink? I’ll have a shot of Louis the 13th, and what will you have, Mr. Montega?”

  Samorah answered for him. “Gray Goose and pineapple juice, right?” she asked. She was definitely unhappy about seeing him there.

  Once the two men were on the sofa, Carlos got right down to business. “Montega, your cousin tells me that you are a very ambitious man who knows a lot about moving cocaine. He says that you’re very popular in Philadelphia, and that people are influenced by your ambition. He also tells me that you’re not afraid to get your hands dirty.”

  Looking over at Samorah as she fixed the drinks, Montega replied, “That sounds about right.”

  “Yes, well, I have a lot of people who can move cocaine around here. That’s not what I’m looking for, however. What I’m looking for is a person that can get his hands dirty. From my understanding, you’re a loyal man with a heart of stone. I need people like that in my circle, Montega,” he said as Samorah handed the two men their drinks.

  She then gave Montega another look that indicated she wasn’t feeling this at all. Samorah didn’t want to admit it, but for the past few weeks, she had developed strong feelings for Montega. And even though she suspected he was a dope boy, she still looked the other way. She had no idea that he knew her brother. That right there scared the living shit out of her. Carlos wasn’t one to play around with, nor did he usually do business in a place where he rested his head. The fact that Montega was there told her that he trusted him, and trust
was bad. One fuck up, and Montega would be a memory.

  “How much cocaine have you handled at one time?” Carlos asked.

  “Uh, I would say nine ounces,” Montega said.

  When Carlos heard that, he burst out laughing. Montega frowned, wondering what was so funny. When Carlos caught his vibe, he apologized. “I’m sorry, my friend, but I haven’t seen something that small in a long time. It’s no wonder the bottom turns men into wolves when you should be considered lions. Montega, today could go two ways for you. It could either be your lucky day or your worst nightmare. Let me ask you something else; can you handle one hundred kilograms of pure-white Columbian cocaine?”

  Montega almost lost his breath. “One… hundred… k-keys?” he repeated hesitantly.

  “That’s right. I’ll have a shipment delivered to you as soon as you get back to Philly. Of course, there’s a heavy price to pay before you get that first shipment. Don’t you think I’m being generous? There are heavy strings attached. There are no such things as ‘favor for a favor’ in business. Everything costs. What do you think about that? Are you interested?” Carlos asked.

  “As a shark is to blood,” Montega responded excitedly.

  “Great. Now, before we can do business, you must pass the test.”

  “A test? What kind of test?”

  “Remember the guy I showed you earlier? Well, he’s a member of a rival organization, and someone wants him… disposed of. This is the test and the price you have to pay for the consignment of hundred keys. In fact, I’ll even throw in twenty bricks of heroin.”

  Montega got out of his seat. “Is that all you want?” he asked as if the task was nothing.

  With admiration, Carlos gave him the keys to his car. “That’s all I need,” he said.

  In a flash, Montega was out the door. There was nothing else to discuss. He was signing the contract with the blood of another man—a hundred keys and twenty bricks of dope for the price of some guy he didn’t give a shit about. He was about to find out how untouchable this Tommy Gun really was. Like KK used to say: If his heart didn’t pump concrete and his skin wasn’t made of Teflon, his blood would quench the ground’s thirst.