by Tracy Brown
I held her in my arms, both of us sipping Cristal and enjoying the breeze blowing through the sunroof. Within minutes, the driver pulled up at Pier 86 in midtown Manhattan. Lucky looked like she had no idea what to expect. I explained. “I got a business associate who owns a yacht. I was trying to think of something different to do with you tonight—something that none of your friends would be doing—so he let me use it for a few hours.”
Lucky’s chin hit the floor. We tipped the limo driver and walked to the pier. When we got there, the flyest boat I’d ever seen was docked and waiting for us. The name of the boat was The Luminary, and the captain greeted me by my street name. “Good evening, Martin. I’ll be your captain this evening,” he said. Lucky looked at me like, Who the hell is Martin? I explained to her quietly that I never give my business associates my real name, and she left it at that. She had never asked me outright whether or not I sold drugs, but stepping onto that yacht I think all her suspicions were confirmed.
The first room he showed us was a large living room. It had a big green sectional and a glossy wood coffee table in the middle. The walls were covered in wood panels the same color as the table. You could fit twenty people in that room and it still wouldn’t be crowded. Lucky was amazed. So was I, but I had to act like I was used to being around that kind of luxury. Inside I was buggin’, though.
He showed us to a dining room area that had a wood table big enough to fit eight people. There were bottles of Moët & Chandon sitting in buckets filled with ice. There were windows behind the table where you could see the water while you sailed. The shit was beautiful. But my level of excitement reached the highest point when he showed us to one of the bedroom cabins. (There were five bedroom cabins on board.) Ours was painted off-white, the lights were dim, and it had a king-sized bed in the middle with about ten pillows on it. The headboard was made of mirrors and there was a big-screen TV at the foot of the bed. Again, on each nightstand there was a bucket with Moet on ice. I knew I owed my associate a big favor for letting me use that yacht. I had never seen anything so nice in all my life.
Lucky stood motionless in the middle of the room with her hands over her mouth. The captain went off to set sail around the New York Harbor, and I walked up behind Lucky and slid my arms around her slim waist. She turned toward me and said, “Lamin, you didn’t have to do all of this …”
I cut her off with a kiss and I pulled her close. As she kissed me, she pulled my tuxedo jacket off and flung it on the floor. I undid the clasps on my cuff links. Once I took my shirt off, Lucky stepped out of her shoes and with her standing five feet, eight inches to my six-foot, four-inch frame, I felt the full advantage of my height. But Lucky wasn’t relinquishing control that easily.
She pushed me onto the bed and for a minute, I was surprised. But she didn’t give me long to react. She strolled over to where I sat at the edge of the bed and reached both hands to the nape of her neck. She unhooked her dress, and the pretty fabric fell to her feet. Lucky stood before me naked except for a soft green G-string the same color as her dress. What bugged me out was Lucky’s confidence. She didn’t try to cover anything or seem uncomfortable as I stared at her perfect body. She looked me dead in my eyes with a smile on her lips that said, Yeah, I know I’m sexy. Her titties stood out firm and succulent. Her brown nipples were hard as rocks and I couldn’t wait to suck on them.
“Come here,” I ordered her in a low, deep voice. Lucky had me hot for real. She came closer and rubbed her titties in my face. I kept thinking, Wait till I get up in this girl. She just don’t know! But Lucky’s body was so beautiful that I wanted to take my time. I licked the left one like an ice cream cone. Lucky liked that ’cause she moaned and her head fell back as she straddled me. So I sucked on that nipple—not too hard, but just enough to make her say my name. Then, I licked the other one. Lucky was in ecstasy by then. Soon, I slid my hand underneath her G-string and stroked her clit. I knew I had her then, and in the blink of an eye I had two of my long fingers inside her moist, warm pussy. Lucky was all mine.
I flipped her over onto her back and slid that little G-string off. Lucky was floating already, but I wanted there to be no question as to whose pussy that was. I put my face between her legs, and she started to quiver. I knew that last nigga Jamal had never tasted her ‘cause Lucky’s response was phenomenal. I licked and sucked her sweet pussy until she came, and the whole time she was making the sexiest fuckin’ sounds I ever heard. She was grabbing my head, watching me while I was down there, and telling me how good it felt.
After she came, I tried to suck her perky titties a little more, but she kept begging, “Pleeeease, Lamin, put it in.” She snatched the condom out of my hand, opened it, and rolled it onto my dick pleading, “Put it in.”
I did. And the feeling was like heaven. Lucky’s pussy was so tight, and her walls were warm and dripping wet. I almost came immediately. She asked me to be gentle, and I was really trying. “Your dick is so big, Lamin.” Those words are music to a nigga’s ears. I stroked her slowly as she held on to my back tightly.
“I love you, Lucky.” The words came out of my mouth without me giving it any thought. Once I said it, I realized that it was the truth, and I said it again. “I love you, girl.”
Lucky looked in my eyes as I continued to stroke her. “I love you, too, Lamin. I really do.”
“You do?” I asked her in my sex voice. “Show me, Lucky.”
She smiled at me and flipped me over. I chuckled a little, as she straddled me, planting both her feet on either side of my body on the bed. She took my dick in her hands and rubbed the head back and forth against her pussy. My dick jerked from the feeling and then she slid it inside her. Lucky proceeded to ride me slowly, up and down, as I stroked her hard nipples. Her rhythm increased, and she gyrated her hips like a reggae dancer. The motion of the boat rocking and Lucky riding me was too much. I came, and she collapsed on my chest and we both struggled to catch our breath.
She looked deep in my eyes and asked me, “Did you mean what you said, Lamin? Do you love me?”
I gave her a serious look. “My grandfather told me that the most dangerous thing you can do is play with somebody’s emotions,” I told her. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.” Lucky kissed me and laid her head on my chest. We dozed off for a little while, and when she woke me up it was 1:47 A.M.
“Lamin, let’s go sit outside and see the skyline.” I rubbed my eyes. She looked so sexy with her long hair falling around her shoulders. I realized we were both naked, and I got an instant erection.
“Kiss it for me, first.”
Lucky looked at me like I had asked her to kiss my ass. “Kiss what?” she asked.
“My dick,” I replied with a smile. I had imagined her sucking me off on at least four occasions, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try.
“I never did that before, Lamin.” Lucky seemed almost embarrassed by her lack of experience at giving head. In my eyes, that was a plus. Now, I was determined to make mine the first and last dick she sucked.
“You don’t wanna do it?” I asked her. I hoped she would recall how well I ate her pussy not too long ago. Hopefully, that would convince her to return the favor.
“It’s not that,” she said. “I just wouldn’t know how.”
“I’ll teach you,” I told her, referring to her earlier statement.
She was quiet for a while. Then Lucky gave in and said, “Alright.”
I knew that I had a lot of respect for her because I suggested that we take a shower together first. I washed her up, making sure to lick and suck her enough to get her horny. Then she washed me from head to toe. I stepped into the stream of warm water to rinse the soap off my body. When I submerged my face in the water streaming from the showerhead, my eyes suddenly flew open. I felt the sensation of Lucky’s mouth wrapped around the head of my dick. I looked down, and she was on her knees sucking it. I was gone! In retrospect, I probably sounded like a bitch moaning and groaning as I felt the
suction of her lips and her tongue on my dick. She was no pro, but the shit felt good!
The warm water was falling and pounding on our bodies. She looked so pretty when she was wet, and her flawless body looked even more erotic. I watched her sucking and licking me. I had to give her pointers like, “Ow, ma! Watch your teeth.” But she got the hang of it. In no time, I was watching my dick glide in and out of her mouth. I could feel her tonsils touching the head as she tried to take all of me into her mouth without gagging. Soon, I was cummin’. I warned her. “Lucky, stop, I’m cummin’,” I told her. But she kept sucking until I erupted in her mouth. Lucky swallowed my whole nut, and looked up at me with her pretty Asian eyes.
“Like that, Lamin?” she asked.
I had to chuckle. The girl had me weak in the knees from the head she’d just gave me, and she had the nerve to ask that question.
I nodded with a smile. “Yeah. Just like that, baby girl.”
I knew at that moment that I would kill a nigga over Lucky. We got dressed and went out to the deck.
The rest of the night was sweet. We talked for hours, and being out in the middle of the Hudson River was like being in another world. Eventually, we docked at the pier. My car was parked there. (I had taken care of that before going to pick her up for the prom. I thought of everything.) That song “Breakin’ My Heart” by Mint Condition came on and I sang along, serenading Lucky as we headed toward Staten Island on the Verrazano Bridge. Lucky laughed at me and seemed to be as happy as I was.
We pulled up in front of her house at exactly 5:01 A.M. Lucky leaned over, stroked my face, and kissed me.
“I love you, Lamin,” she said. “I’ll never forget this night for as long as I live.”
I kissed her back and took notice of the lone light shining in her living room window. I knew Mr. Matheson was up waiting for her.
“I love you, too, Lucky. I’ll call you in a few hours.”
She put something in my hand and stepped out of the car. As she walked up the driveway toward her house, I looked down and saw that what she had handed me was her G-string. She reached her front door, turned, and winked at me. I winked back and pulled away just as Mr. Matheson opened the door.
I sang “Breakin’ My Heart” all the way back to Brooklyn.
SIX
slippin’
Zion
While Lamin’s love life was in full bloom, I was trying not to notice that his sister was growing up. Olivia was looking good! I knew she had a crush on me, and out of respect for Lamin I stayed away from her. But that was getting harder to do. Olivia looked like a fuckin’ supermodel, and she had the baddest walk! Whenever she’d strut her sexy self in my direction, I’d have to pray that Lamin didn’t notice the bulge in my pants.
Another fucked-up situation was the little turf war we were having with these Jamaican niggas from Park Hill. Me and Lamin had workers in the Hill who were coming back and reporting to us that they were being threatened. One of the workers had even been shot at. Apparently, these rastahs didn’t want us selling on “their” turf to “their” customers. Fuck that. A crackhead is a crackhead, and every crackhead is fair game. Ain’t nobody gonna tell me that I can’t put workers where the fuck I want to. Fuck them niggas. If Lamin hadn’t been so caught up in his romance with Lucky, he would have seen how serious the situation was. But since he was blinded by love, he never saw it coming.
Olivia
Zion had it going on. He was intoxicatingly fine. Whenever he came around, all the ladies would drink him in with their eyes like a tall glass of water. To me, he was beauty personified.
Maybe he held the appeal of contradiction and contrast. This nigga had been raised in the group homes and institutions of New York, but he looked like he belonged in thousand-dollar suits. I hadn’t met too many brothas who could make me weak in the knees. But Zion did, every time!
I asked Lamin why he was so against me getting with Zion. He told me that first off, Zion was his friend, and no man wants to think of his friend bonin’ his little sister. Second of all, he said, “Trust me, Olivia, men are dogs. They chase tail all day, and Zion is no different.” I didn’t care what Lamin said. I wanted Zion to chase my tail.
Lucky turned out not to be so bad after all. I grew to like her although I still maintained a comfortable distance between us. I have this thing about females. The few that I’ve had as friends always seem to reveal some ugly true colors. Females are emotional and sneaky. They’ll be jealous of you and still smile in your face. You’ll never know that they’re secretly praying that you fall flat on your face. I’ve had a lot of “friends” like that. So I was wary of Lucky at first. But when shit started going down, Lucky showed me that she was worthy of my trust—and my friendship.
June 1992
Lamin
The night Lucky graduated from high school was when all hell broke loose. I didn’t go to her graduation ceremony since I didn’t feel like dealing with her father, so I told her that I would take her and her friends out to celebrate that night. Lucky brought her friends Audrey and Veronica and my sister. (Olivia and Lucky were like Thelma and Louise all of a sudden.) None of them had ever been to a club before so they were all excited.
At that time, there was a club on Bay Street in Staten Island called Consequences. That was my spot! Every Friday and Saturday, I could be found at the bar spending big money. I hadn’t learned yet that the worst thing a “get money” nigga can be is predictable. Zion was there that night, and since Das EFX had performed there the previous night, the crowd was packed with fly ladies. A lot of them were underage (like Olivia and Lucky), and the clowns at the door knew it. But with all the skin they were showing, none of them were turned away. Lucky wasn’t one of those broads who stay glued to your side all night to make sure no other bitch has a shot at their man. She gave me my space, and I was grateful for that. She danced with her friends to CeCe Peniston’s “We Got a Love Thang,” and she seemed to be enjoying herself. I noticed a lot of dudes looking at her on the down low. None of them said a word, though, since they all knew she was mine.
I went to the bar and ordered a drink. The bartender was some new chick that I didn’t recognize (and I was in Consequences enough to recognize most of them), but she had a real fat ass. While she mixed my gin and juice, I got a nice eyeful. I turned around to survey the club, and I saw Olivia talking to Zion at a table in the corner. She seemed to have his full attention. I couldn’t imagine what that conversation was about, but I wasn’t that concerned. I trusted Zion. Plus, I couldn’t help being preoccupied by a nigga sitting across the bar from me. He was shooting daggers at me, eyeing me like he wanted beef. I had a 9 mm on my ankle, so I wasn’t concerned about handling him, but my confusion was over the fact that I didn’t recognize him.
I couldn’t figure out where I knew him from, and he was really grillin’ me. By now I was starting to feel tipsy, and that wasn’t like me to get lit off of one damn drink. Weed is my preference anyway, ’cause it don’t have the side effects that alcohol does. But despite the way my head was spinnin’, I knew that this nigga was staring me down.
Lucky came over to the bar where I was seated. She put her arms around me, but she noticed that I didn’t respond to her like I usually did so she looked at me. “What’s the matter, Lamin? You look sick.”
By the time it dawned on me that someone had put something in my drink, it was too late.
“Lamin. Lamin!” To me, it sounded like Lucky was speaking in slow motion—her voice sounded all funny. The music started sounding slow and warped. I rubbed my eyes because the room was starting to look blurry. The next sound I heard was the heavily accented voice of the guy across the bar saying, “Yo, Lamin! Say goodnight.”
That message was followed by the sound of gunshots. I tried to turn and run but it was too late. My back felt like it was on fire, and the pain traveled all through my body. Then everything went black.
Lucky
Lamin fell in a heap onto the floor. Ever
ybody started running for the exits and screaming. I refused to leave Lamin laying there, so I yelled for someone to call an ambulance. Olivia and Zion ran over and saw Lamin’s blood all over the place. I was crying. Olivia flipped out! She was yelling, “They shot my brother! Somebody shot my brother!” Zion put his arms around Olivia to calm her down, but she wasn’t having it. All I could think about as tears fell down my face like a waterfall was Lamin, please don’t die. Baby, please don’t die!
Zion got down on the floor beside Lamin, and started digging through his pockets. I didn’t know what he was looking for, but he pulled out a whole big knot of bills from one pocket and a bag full of drugs from the other. Then, he lifted up Lamin’s pants leg and removed a black handgun. I thought, Damn, I’m his girl and I didn’t even know he had all this with him. I knew that Lamin was a hustler, but seeing all this was too much for me. Zion looked at me and told me that he was taking Lamin’s “stuff” so that the police wouldn’t get it. He shoved all the money and drugs into his own pockets, he grabbed Olivia, and they went to his car. I stayed with Lamin, and the paramedics came soon after. I felt abandoned, with the man I loved fighting for his life.
“Hold on, Lamin,” I told him. The paramedics said that Lamin had been shot twice in the back. Both bullets had exited through his stomach. All I could do was pray. I rode in the ambulance with Lamin, and I noticed Zion following in his car with Olivia. We got to the hospital, and Olivia called her family as they wheeled Lamin into surgery. I fell apart, and Zion held me. “Don’t cry, Lucky,” he said as he shoved tissues into my trembling hands. “Lamin is tough. He won’t die.” It sounded to me like Zion was trying to convince himself as well as me. He was fighting back tears, but he was strong because I needed him to be.
Soon, Olivia joined us, and I tried to say something comforting. But Olivia seemed to withdraw into herself. “He’s all I got, Lucky. Lamin is all I got.” That’s all Olivia kept saying as she rocked back and forth in her seat. Thirty minutes passed, and soon a commotion could be heard as a ranting and raving woman came flying into the ER. Olivia leaped to her feet.