Hittin' the Bricks: An Urban Erotic Tale

by Noire

  “That should hold a niggah till we get to the crib,” Brody laughed. He shook his head. “You coulda got ya dick sucked on The Rock. We gone swing by the house so Charlene can tear ya off real proper, aiight?”

  That was cool with Fiyah. He stuffed his wet dick back in his pants, then sank back on the plush leather seats trying to catch his breath. Charlene smiled up at him, still snuggled between his legs.

  Brody’s joint was on Lexington Avenue and it was just as large as he was. The lobby had marble floors and smelled like lemon incense, and the mirrors and glass panels were sparkling clean.

  Fiyah tried not to act too impressed when he stepped into Brody’s crib, but that shit was so grand it was fit for a king. Every fuckin’ thing in there was oversized and over the top, just like Brody. Granite pillars were spread throughout the house and mirrors trimmed in red velvet lined the walls.

  Fiyah was thinking about Charlene’s big juicy titties and how they had jiggled under her yellow dress as she sucked his nuts. He was already anticipating what it would be like to slide between her toned, sexy legs when Brody fucked up his fantasy by tossing him off a different bitch.

  “Yo, Nakisha,” Brody barked on one of the young girls who were sprawled out on his cotton-soft leather sofas. A whole row of them were dressed in colorful thongs and bras and just waiting for King Brody to give a command. Brody had seen the way Fiyah was still digging Charlene, and he turned to the other bitches in his stable with a grin. “Nakisha, take my manz Fiyah in ya room and work him over.” He looked at Fiyah like he was just another one of his bitches in a colorful thong. “Don’t even sweat Charlene’s old pussy. Nakisha is your type of bitch now, ya feel me?”

  Fiyah looked the girl up and down. She was tall and skinny and had a body that looked like it had just started developing yesterday.

  “Damn muhfuckah,” Fiyah muttered as the girl grabbed his wrist and pulled him along behind her. Her little booty cheeks didn’t even have no fat on them. They were all lean muscle. “How old is this chick, yo?”

  King Brody laughed behind him and Nakisha laughed in front of him.

  “Don’t worry, Poppy,” she said with a slick grin. “I’m old enough to fuck without getting stuck.”

  Age wasn’t nothing but a number, and Nakisha had just shot to number one on Fiyah’s list. The girl mighta been on the bony side, but she could swivel her long body just like a snake and she was wrapping herself around Fiyah’s dick in a way that no other chick had ever done.

  “Here, nasty,” she said, holding out her first and middle fingers for Fiyah to lick. She had just finished fingering herself and her hand was dripping with young juices. Fiyah sucked them fingers up like they were made of platinum. He got all between the crevices tryna get every drop of that sweet liquid that she had just pulled out from her strawberry walls.

  After almost nine months of smelling nothing but dick, balls, and crusty assholes, the scent of pussy was driving Fiyah crazy and he drooled as Nakisha swirled her fingers around inside herself again. His dick jumped to her sexy beat as she pressed down on her clit, then flicked it from side to side. Her feet slid up toward her ass and her knees fell apart, giving him the best possible view of her naked brown pussy with pearls of cream dripping from its center.

  Fiyah went to work. He licked the insides of her thighs, which tasted just like sweet peaches. “Kiss it,” she commanded as he hesitated with his face just two inches away from her beautiful snatch. Fiyah wasn’t sure. He didn’t know this chick from the next one out there, and eating strange pussy wasn’t something he did just like that.

  But that pussy was hot and sticky and the girl was demanding. Moments later he took the dive and buried his face all up in that shit. It tasted so damn good he wanted to holler as he sucked and licked and bit into her soft wet mound like he had never eaten pussy before in his life and might never get a chance to eat it again.

  Nakisha bucked on the bed beneath him and urged him on. She had a real nasty mouth and Fiyah loved every fuckin’ word that flew from her lips. “Yeah, you pussy-eating mothafucka!” she panted. “Lick my ass too, baby. Get busy on everything down there! Don’t leave nothing out!”

  She didn’t have a problem with it when Fiyah flipped her over onto her stomach then pulled her hips back until her ass was aimed at the ceiling. He licked her mounds with his whole damn tongue and dug up in her from the back, sucking her out like a crazy man as she squealed and yanked at the sheets and bucked backward, gyrating her hips and rubbing her pussy all over his face.

  That little bit of cum that Charlene had gotten outta him in the car was nothing but a memory now as Fiyah felt his nut steamrolling up from his balls and swelling up the head of his dick. He rose up on his knees and wiped sweat from his eyes as he plunged into her deeply, licking his sticky lips as he tasted her pussy and fucked it at the same time.

  He was pounding into that ass with long, deep strokes. Nakisha wasn’t talking shit no more. She was trying to take all that dick without screaming as she scooted forward on the bed and moaned and raised her ass as high as she could to meet his wet, shocking thrusts. Fiyah placed one hand on her lower back and held her in the right position as he backed out of her slowly, then slammed back in as hard as he could. He stuck his pointer finger up in her pussy, right along side his dick and wet it up. Then he pulled it out and rubbed it around the rim of her asshole, then jammed his finger inside her back tunnel to the same pace that his dick stroked the front. He was moaning himself now, whimpering too, when suddenly the door burst open and King Brody stood there bare-dick-naked with a big grin on his face.

  Fiyah jumped so hard that his dick slipped out and Nakisha was left with both her holes wide open and gaped open at him.

  “Yo, man! What the fuck you doin’, Brody?!?”

  Brody didn’t say shit. He snapped his fingers three times and instantly Nakisha jumped out the bed leaving Fiyah on his knees as she rushed over to him. Without a word, the girl knelt down in front of Brody and started licking his dick.

  Brody balled up his fists and placed both hands on his waist. He stood there looking like a giant African king as Nakisha deep-throated his dick and slurped at it noisily. Fiyah cursed inside as the girl jetted her neck back and forth, taking almost all of Brody’s thick black dick down her throat as her hands moved like feathers over his hanging balls.

  Brody groaned a few times, then gripped her by her neck, freeing his dick and bringing her to her feet. He turned the girl around and bent her over on the bed, then rammed his wet penis up inside her so hard that she screamed in pain, trying to muffle the sound with the sheets. Fiyah was stunned as Brody dicked her ten times deeper than he ever could. He slung meat up in the young chick so hard that she started shivering and hiccupping with each stroke.

  Then suddenly Brody pulled out of her and snapped his fingers three times.

  Nakisha moved fast. She crawled up on the bed on her hands and knees. She scooted herself around until she was once again in the perfect position for Fiyah. Her ass was high in the air and her juices were glistening on her wet and ready pussy.

  Brody chuckled as Fiyah looked amazed.

  “This is Harlem, baby. My town. You can’t even get no pussy up in this city unless I give the word.”

  Fiyah was stunned for several seconds even after Brody left and the door slammed behind him. What Brody had just done was real fucked up, Fiyah thought as he flipped Nakisha over and slid back up inside her warm pussy. He sucked a small titty into his mouth and pumped into her with quick, strong strokes, determined to blow his load and then get as far away from Brody’s nutcase ass as he could.

  Fiyah stood outside of his building as the black Escalade driven by Rolo pulled away from the curb. He was fucked out. Brody’s two women had drained every drop of backed-up cum he had in his nuts and now he was cool and could think straight. Pacing around in that jail cell he’d had a thousand dreams of coming back to this place, but now he wondered why. The crib looked even more run-down
and dilapidated than it had when he’d left.

  He looked up at his windows and spotted Rosa sitting outside on the fire escape. Her eyes were big and thoughtful in her pretty brown face. Fiyah grinned. He waved at Rosa and walked toward the stoop.

  It was early, but already some of his neighbors were chilling outside. Mr. Ramirez was sweeping down the steps and he looked up as Fiyah approached.

  “’Sup, Mr. Ramirez.”

  “Fuego,” the old man said. “Glad you’re back home.”

  Just inside the vestibule and out of the sun, a small group of older women sat on folding chairs and overturned milk crates as they smoked Newports and Kools. One of them smirked and said, “You see whose car he just got out of, right? Keep riding with that fool and he ain’t gonna be home for long.”

  Fiyah just stayed quiet. These old ladies used to whip his ass when he was a little kid. If he gave them a reason they’d still fuck him up now.

  He bounded up to the second floor and the door was snatched open before he could knock.

  “Fuego!” Rosa jumped into his arms, laughing. “Aunt Milena!” she yelled. “Fuego’s home!”

  Fiyah’s mother came out of the bathroom smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer. Slim and shapely, she had on a pair of tight jeans and a white shirt, and those who didn’t know better often mistook her for Fiyah’s older sister.

  He held out his arms. “Hi, Ma. I’m home.”

  Milena walked right past him. “I got something on the stove,” she said, her hips shaking as she went into the kitchen to turn off a pot. “Rosa, where’s all my pot holders? Bring me a towel!”

  Milena burned her finger and cursed in Spanish.

  “Lemme get that, Ma,” Fiyah said. Using his sleeve, he slid the boiling pot over to a cool burner. He bent down and kissed his mother on the cheek, and she turned her head away as soon as his lips touched her skin.

  “I guess I’m right on time to eat.”

  Rosa came in and sat at the small table. She smiled at Fiyah and he winked back.

  “Actually you’re almost a year late, Fuego. But what the fuck. Who counts time when they’re busy counting dollars?”

  “What’s wrong, Ma? You ain’t happy to see me? Come on, they cut me loose early. Good behavior…”

  “I’m happy to see you’re back to help with some of these damn bills.”

  Fiyah watched his mother move around the tiny kitchen. He remembered the days when she was strung out, skin popping and picking up dudes off the street and bringing them home to fuck. Shit had gotten so bad that he had gone to Brooklyn to stay with Eva and Rasheena, but none of that had made him love his moms any less.

  “We didn’t have no heat this winter, you know,” she complained. “The boiler broke and the landlord wouldn’t do shit about it until Eva called the news hotline. If it wasn’t for them showing up and blasting his ass all over the television we woulda froze to death in here.”

  She slammed a bowl down on the table in front of him, then sat down.

  “Shit, you had it good out there on Rikers. At least they have heat in jail. There was a whole lotta nights where I envied you. I woulda switched places with you in a heartbeat just to keep my damn feet warm.”

  Fiyah stood up. He put his hands on his mother’s shoulders.

  “Ma, I’m home now. I’m about to get on my grind. I’ma be making music and making money. It’s gonna get better, Ma. I promise you.”

  Milena smirked. “Yeah, okay. I’ll believe that shit when I see it.” She shrugged his hands off her. “Sit down, Fuego. Your food is getting cold and we sure ain’t got no food to be wasting.”

  Fiyah sat back down. He got busy with his chicken and rice. Milena could burn, and this was the best food he’d eaten all year.

  “Man, look at you,” he said to Rosa. “You getting big, girl. You’re almost grown up.”

  Milena touched Rosa’s hair and agreed. “She is big,” she said, bending over to kiss the little girl on her forehead. “In a minute she’s gonna be wearing Eva’s clothes.”

  “I went on the Cyclone,” Rosa said.

  Fiyah looked at his mother. “The Cyclone? In Brooklyn? At Coney Island? What was y’all doing over there?”

  Milena pushed her plate back and lit another cigarette.

  “My new friend Brody took her.”

  Fiyah froze. His stomach went liquid as he searched his mother’s eyes.

  “King Brody? He been coming around here?”

  “What the fuck you lookin’ at me like that for? He helps. Shit, we owe him.”

  “How much you owe him, Ma?”

  “He took Rosa to Coney Island. I needed a break.”

  “How much, Ma?”

  Milena shrugged. “Not a lot. He helped me out with the bills last month. Bought some food. He didn’t have a problem with it, Fuego. Hell, I been sick. If it wasn’t for him our asses mighta got put out on the street last month.”

  She lit another cigarette and took a deep pull. “Brody’s got a job. He came through the door with cash money. You got a problem with that?”

  The look on her face was straight nasty.

  Fiyah fumed. “Nah, Ma,” he lied. Hell yeah he had a problem. Brody hadn’t waited for him to get off The Rock after all. Coming around the crib and taking Rosa out just so he could get next to Eva? That shit was foul.

  “I ain’t got no problems. I’ma handle it. Where’s Eva?”

  Rosa started grinning at the mention of Eva’s name.

  She got up and took a card off the refrigerator. On it was a color photo of Eva in a model’s pose. She passed it to Fiyah.

  “Eva Patterson for Birthday Cake? What’s this?”

  “Your cousin’s out there doing her thing,” Milena said. “She got a new job at some modeling agency downtown. All I know is between her new job and her new man, that ass ain’t never home no more.”

  Fiyah took a close look at the card. He turned it over and saw an address on the back.

  “Eva got a boyfriend? She working today?”

  Milena shrugged. “How would I know?”

  Rosa answered. “She works there every day from seven to five. Then she goes out with her boyfriend after that.”

  The little girl grinned at Fiyah and it twisted his gut to see how much she looked like India.

  “Cool. Yo, Rosita. Can I hold this card?”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll be back, Ma,” Fiyah said, putting the card in his pocket.

  Pulling deeply from her cigarette, Milena looked up at her son and rolled her eyes.

  The Manhattan Parole Office was packed. Fiyah sat in the waiting room, slouched down in his chair. The room was overflowing with a bunch of black and Latino men who had the same bored look on their faces as he did.

  He watched a fat white PO walk past with a frown on his face. The PO looked at the men like they were shit on his shoes. Dude carried a 9-mm tucked into his shoulder holster and Fiyah figured the piece was what made that lumpy cracker feel brave.

  The guy spotted Fiyah scoping him.

  “What the fuck you lookin’ at?”

  Fiyah just stared. He hadn’t been out twenty-four hours yet and this cat was fuckin’ with him. With music on his mind, he stared hard at the PO but kept his mouth closed.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Got this place looking like a fuckin’ social club for the criminally insane.”

  A few minutes later an overworked white parole officer in his mid-forties stepped into the waiting room and called out Fiyah’s name.

  “Fuego Perez!”

  Fiyah came out of his slouch and faced the man. They grilled each other for a few seconds, then Fiyah followed the PO down a hall and into his small office.

  Fiyah looked around as the PO skimmed his file. There were stacks of folders all over the place, and wanted posters covered the walls.

  “It ain’t your first time being locked up, but it’s your first time on parole? Right. Just the first time you got caught by the righ
t people. What kind of work did you do before your arrest?”

  “I rapped. I’m a rapper.”

  “Yeah.” He sounded bored. “You and every other wanna-be on a street corner. Here’s the way it’s gonna work, so listen up. I’m placing you on the intensive track. That means you get a job and report to me once a week.”

  “Every fuckin’ week? What? I got caught with a toolie but I didn’t shoot no fuckin’ body!”

  The PO slammed the file down on the desk, then pushed a form at Fiyah for him to sign. “That ain’t all. I’m gonna drug-piss you every fuckin’ week too, and if you come back hot, I’ll violate you on the spot. Your curfew is ten p.m., unless you ask for a work exception in advance.”

  “Ten o’clock? You gotta be bullshittin’—”

  “Nine on weeknights. Don’t fuck with me, though. I’ve got insomnia and can’t sleep worth a damn, so I make bed checks instead. If you ain’t in yours when I come creeping, that’s another on-the-spot violation. Get three of those and I’ll handcuff you and send you back to The Rock to complete the rest of your sentence and that’ll be one less ex-con weighing down my caseload. Now, moving on. You’re not allowed to associate with known criminals, so kick all your felonious homies to the curb. Don’t leave the state without my permission, and don’t spend the night no place other than your residence of record. You got all that?”

  Fiyah was too mad to talk. He grilled the dude hard, then snatched the form and scrawled his name across it. Pushing back his chair, he stormed out of the office.