G-Spot 2 Lust: The 5th Deadly Sin (G-Spot 2: The Seven Deadly Sins)

by Noire

  Moaning, he palmed my skull like it was a basketball and pushed his meat deeper into my mouth. My tongue twirled all over that chocolate pop as I opened that trap door in my throat and sucked him in.

  “Yeahhh,” he groaned out his encouragement. “Suck this big dick, baby. Suck it.”

  I went to work even harder and I really put that neck pussy on him as he mouth-fucked me like he was really up in my guts. I cupped his balls and let my cheeks collapse, blowing his head and making him grunt for more.

  Moments later he shuddered and pulled away. I grinned up at him, knowing that I had almost copped that nut.

  “Your turn,” he said as he pulled me to my feet. It was all about me as he covered my lips and slipped his tongue deep inside my mouth. He unbuttoned my shirt and my firm twins jumped right out, rowdy and free. My nipples stiffened like pebbles as he unzipped my jeans and slid his hand inside my panties.

  My pussy juices burned his fingers as he inserted them in my snatch. He stroked my swollen clit, slowly at first, and then faster as my hips started to thrust. Slowly, he used his other hand to inch my pants down around my hips, and they were barely past my knees when he lost it and gripped the cheeks of my ass. He bent down and bit into my pussy like it was a big juicy apple.

  I shuddered as soon as his tongue touched me. “Uh-huh, give it to me,” he demanded as he parted my pussy lips with his fingers and plunged his tongue deeply inside my wet forest. I yelped as he lapped up my juices and then used his soft tongue to spread them all over my clit.

  He ate my pussy like he was a starving man, and when I felt him gripping my ass, spreading me open wide, I arched my back and clenched my teeth. His tongue felt just like a little dick as he inserted it deep inside me, and when his finger pressed up against my back door and then slipped up in there too, it was my turn to palm his head as I screamed and spurted sweet cum in his mouth, coating his tongue and lips with the big load of honey that I had just spilled….

  I dropped my pen and sat up. Sweat had dripped from my face and fallen onto the paper. My pussy was wet. It was hot and it was ready. I wanted to open my legs and get the dog shit fucked outta me but the problem was, it was all just a fantasy. The same type of crazy stories I used to write back when I was a sexually frustrated teenager who was dying to get fucked.

  The words I’d written had started out small and neat, but by the end of my little story they’d gotten big and loopy. I closed the notebook and slid it under my pillow. I thought back to the days when I used to masturbate on the pull-out sofa in Grandmother’s living room, and then to all those nights that I had fingered myself to a silent orgasm while laying in the bed right next to G.

  I had always craved dick. It was just in my nature to want to fuck. And right now I wanted to reach down in my panties and rub my pussy until it exploded, but I didn’t. Because it wasn’t a finger or a fantasy that I wanted. It was a man. And hell, since there wasn’t nobody around to judge me but me, I just went on ahead and admitted it.

  I wanted Trey.

  $$$$$

  When Chiney showed up at the homeless shelter begging me to come back to Harlem I thought she had lost her damn mind. I was stretched across my bed reading a real sexy book called, “Knockin’ Boots” when one of the counselors banged on the door to tell me I had a visitor.

  “Me?” I said stupidly, “Somebody is here to see me?”

  I glanced at Egypt, terrified. The first thing that ran through my mind was that Flex had found me and had come to finish my ass off.

  “It’s a young lady,” the counselor said. “Kinda tall, light-skinned. Pretty in the face.”

  “Come with me,” I asked Egypt.

  Chiney was waiting on the front porch when we got downstairs. A white sedan was parked at the curb. She broke out grinning as I stepped outside and we hugged each other tightly.

  “Girl, what the hell are you doing here?” I said after I introduced her to Egypt. “You scared the shit outta me! When they said I had a visitor I thought somebody had found my ass!”

  Chiney laughed. “I did find your ass! I came to get you, Juicy. To break you up outta here.”

  “But how did you know—”

  “Trey,” she said quickly. “My brother told me he saw you living up in here and it fucked my head up. So I came to get you.”

  I shook my head. “Are you serious? You came to get me to take me where?”

  “Home with me! To Harlem. I stay at Trey’s crib and we got plenty of room. Ain’t no reason for you to be living like this when you can stay with us until you get on your feet.”

  I chuckled a little bit and backed up. “Uh-uh, Chiney. I’ma stay right here until they put my ass out in a couple of days, and then I’ma move on to the next shelter just like everybody else does. I’m not staying at your brother’s crib, and I damn sure ain’t about to show my face in Harlem. Niggahs is gunning for me up there, girl. I’d be stretched out cold in less than 24 hours.”

  “Juicy. C’mon now.” Chiney sat down on the top step and pulled me down next to her. She frowned and shook her head. “Don’t insult me like that. Do you really think I would come snatch you up outta Brooklyn and put you in a fucked up situation? You think I would put you in any danger, girl?”

  I shrugged. I had told her a lot about my past while we were locked up on Rikers Island together, but I hadn’t told her everything. “No, not on purpose, but it’s not about you, Chiney. It’s about my life and my situation. Hell no, I don’t think you would let me walk into nothing crazy if you knew about it. But there’s a lotta stuff going on with me that you don’t know about.”

  “Ya think?” she said.

  I nodded.

  And then Chiney proceeded to spit out all the gritty, embarrassing shit I thought I had kept secret. She knew practically everything about what had gone down in Harlem. From my days with G, to how I ran off with his son, to how Ace and Pluto had put a bounty on my head, and of course how I was now living in a shelter way down in Brooklyn.

  “Ain’t no secrets on the streets of Harlem, Juicy. You should know that by now. But trust me,” Chiney said. “I already talked to my brother, and if you come stay with us you ain’t gotta worry about nobody fuckin’ with you, Juicy. Trey’s got a crew, and they got you covered.”

  “They?” I smirked. “Who the hell is they?”

  “My brother and every other hardbody in Harlem who’s down with his Talented Ten crew.”

  I shook my head, not feeling it at all.

  “I really appreciate you looking out for me Chiney, but I don’t know if I can live with your brother.”

  “Why not?” Egypt butt in. She had been so quiet I had almost forgotten she was still standing in the doorway. “Why you can’t live with people who are willing to look out for you, Juicy? That’s kinda stupid,” she said in her typical blunt way. “I mean, you came up in here to live with perfect strangers, and trust me, if that dude who pushed you on the train tracks had busted up in here tryna get after your ass, wasn’t nobody here gonna help you. I don’t see why you wouldn’t go somewhere where somebody you trust is willing to look out for you. Don’t be like me. A shelter hopper. When you’re single with no kids it’s not easy to get a bed in this system, girl. You better jump on this opportunity and not let it get away.”

  I thought about the heat I had felt in Trey’s eyes just last night and a spark zinged through me. “I know, but I just don’t want to...”

  “C’mon, Juicy,” Chiney said and stood up. I got up too, and her eyes begged me to trust her. “We got all the room you could want, and Trey stays gone all the time. Get your shit and come home with me, girl. You won’t even know his ass is there.”

  $$$$$

  Being back on my side of Harlem affected me in a way that I couldn’t have predicted. The last time I’d seen these streets I’d been running for my life. Even in my dreams. But now, all the old sights and sounds, the corner stores and pizza shops, all of it came down on me and made my heart hurt inside my chest.


  As scared as I was of what might happen to me here, this was home. It had been Grandmother’s home, Cara’s home, and Jimmy’s home, and no matter who was after a piece of my ass, Harlem was my home too. And even though I had suffered here and lost so, so much, I had missed it.

  “A’ight,” Chiney said as she pulled up outside of a wide, one-story building with a lot of small windows on it. “This is it.”

  Chiney had told me we were gonna make a quick stop to pick Trey up before we went to the crib. She said he ran a community center for the children of Harlem, and that he had convinced a bunch of other organizations to donate computers, workstations, tables, chairs, and even after school snacks and meals.

  There was a sign near the top with a big basketball holding up a bridge, and the emblem read, The Crossover.

  “This is Trey’s place. It’s where he sponsors basketball and boxing, and a lot of other programs for kids.”

  I got out the car and stood on the sidewalk. For the longest time I just stood there staring at the wide building as neighborhood children ran in and out of the front door. From the outside it looked like a real cool place. Some of the kids were high-school age, and others were a lot younger.

  “This is what’s up,” I said to Chiney. “I wish we would have had something like this when me and Jimmy was growing up.”

  “Me too,” Chiney nodded. “All we had was a playground with some broken up swings and see-saws to keep us occupied. But kids around here got choices now, ya know? Irish Baines’ old joint No Limitz is only a few blocks away. His boy Menace is running it now. And Candy Montana is still mentoring girls over at Power Productions with her man, Knowledge. Between places like those and what Trey has going in the community, these kids don’t have no excuse to be scrambling and slanging out on the streets unless they want to.”

  The front door swung open again as we were talking. This time, instead of a bunch of lanky boys in basketball jerseys pouring out, a tall, well-dressed brother with amazing dreadlocks and a curly goatee stepped out. His legs were all-day long in his expensive slacks, and his shoes were made of quality leather without going overboard with it like Flex did with his countless pairs of imported alligators.

  He crossed his arms over his broad chest as he stared at me and Chiney. The look in his eyes was unreadable, but it was focused and intense.

  “Sup!” Chiney said, sauntering over to her brother.

  The contrast between the two of them was crazy. They looked alike, but they weren’t alike. Both of them had smooth skin, but Chiney’s was light and Trey’s looked like yummy milk chocolate. They both had the same nice features too, but that’s where it ended. Chiney was all street and Trey looked like he was all about his bizz. Chiney was small up top and round on the bottom and had on loose jeans and red and white plaid men’s shirt, where Trey was beastly, all dude. He had a muscled-up chest, broad shoulders, and banging arms.

  I watched as Trey reached out and hugged his little sister and then kissed her on her forehead. She threw her arm casually around his waist. I felt some kinda way inside as they approached me, and I realized it was jealousy. Trey and Chiney were a heart and a soul. I could tell just by the way they looked at each other. I wished my brother was still alive so we could show each other that kind of affection and he could look out for me. Even though I had been the oldest, Jimmy had always, always protected me. Hell, he had given up his life for me.

  Trey never took his eyes off mine as he walked up on me and stared without speaking.

  “Stop playing,” Chiney laughed. “Say hi to Juicy,” she said, nudging him with her hip.

  “What’s up, Juicy,” he said quietly. His eyes were so dark and so damn sexy. “It’s good to see you again.”

  He nodded toward the building. “Welcome to The Crossover. Come on in. I gotta finish up a couple of things before we head to the house.”

  A cool blast of air hit me as soon as he opened the front door. I had expected to see a smelly, dusty gym, but instead it was bright and white and sparkling clean inside. A huge mural hung from a gold-trimmed board, and I could tell one of the dudes in the picture was Trey when he was younger. He was with another young dude who looked real familiar to me.

  “That’s Mayhem,” Chiney said, standing next to me as I studied the picture. “Trey’s best friend. Messiah and Mayhem. You remember him?”

  I nodded. I did. He had been real tall like Trey, and both of them had been real popular. I kept staring at the picture. Trey looked so young and innocent with his body covered in sweat as him and Mayhem hugged each other while walking off the court.

  “Yo, y’all come on,” Trey interrupted us as he held the foyer door open and motioned for me to walk through. He led us up about four or five steps and directly into a large, open room that had most of it sectioned off as a basketball court. There were a bunch of kids running and dribbling and shooting the ball at the six rims they were sharing. Leaving me with Trey, Chiney ran out on the court and stole the ball away from one of the boys, and then she hiked up her pants and took him straight to the hoop.

  “You a coach?” I asked Trey.

  He nodded. “Yeah. We’ve got about ten teams we sponsor through our Crossover league,” he explained. “We catch these kids when they’re about seven or eight years old, and then we train them all the way through high school. It ain’t just about basketball, though. We teach them how to survive and prosper too.”

  Off to the right was a raised boxing ring, and the floor area around it was cluttered with weight benches, speed bags, and a bunch of different sized kettle balls and other gym equipment.

  “Over there is where we make men out of our boys,” Trey said, following my gaze. “We put ’em in the ring and give ’em a safe place to get all that anger and frustration out, nah’mean?”

  I nodded as he stopped in front of row of vending machines along the wall. Instead of being packed with the usual junk food these machines were full of bottled water, and apple, orange and grape juice.

  “What’s ya poison?” Trey asked, clinking some change around in his front pocket.

  “I’ll take an apple juice. Thanks.”

  He put those eyes on me again, and then nodded. “Good choice.”

  “Oh, I got a little change,” I said quickly, digging in my back pocket.

  He waved me off. “I’m good. They only cost a quarter. We keep it cheap so our kids can afford to buy it.”

  I stood there feeling kinda useless as he fed the vending machine. On the one hand, I felt like I had just dumped myself on some dude I didn’t even really know, but on the other hand I couldn’t get him out of my head.

  Trey handed me an apple juice, and then he got a grape juice for Chiney and led me into his small office.

  He nodded toward the couch and then went around and sat behind his desk. His office was painted in the Crossover colors of royal blue and white, had large glass windows that allowed you to look out on both the courts and the entire gym area. I sat on a soft white leather sofa and waited while Trey shuffled through a stack of paper that was on his desk. His phone rang and when he answered it I stood up and started checking out the hundreds of photos and plaques and awards framed neatly all over his walls.

  I checked out some of the framed articles that were about an organization Trey had founded called The Talented Ten. The newspaper said it was an alliance of businessmen who worked together to keep the drug dealers from taking over the community and extorting money from legitimate businesses. According to the article they provided security in the neighborhood, mentored kids, and generally worked to take Harlem back from the hustlers and playas that had run the town into the ground.

  There was another article about them on Trey’s wall, and this one said the Talented Ten was made up of a group of local entrepreneurs who owned barbershops, grocery stores, urban clothing outlets, communications franchises, fish markets, fast food restaurants, computer repair shops, dry cleaners, and check cashing places. They seemed to have
their hand in a lot of pies, and although they ran on the right side of the street, they had a lot of clout and a lot of power.

  “You ready?” he asked me when he finished his call. I held up one hand as I finished reading all the way to the end of the article. I could hear Trey behind me as he locked a few file cabinets and pulled down the shades and a few moments later he said again, “You ready?”

  “Yeah,” I pulled my eyes off the wall and kinda smiled a little bit without looking at him. I never knew he was so large in Harlem, but after reading all that I was even more impressed.

  We walked out of his office together and it was like I didn’t even know how to be around a man like him. He was hardbody and street, I could tell that. But he wasn’t rough or gutter like most of the dudes I had been exposed to were.

  Just like Gino had been, I could tell Trey seemed smart and educated. He was also fine and his game was silky smooth, and he smelled so damn good…every time I looked into his eyes I felt like I was gonna drown in my own juices.

  Stop playing yourself, stupid, I fussed at myself. I’d seen plenty of cats like Trey before. Their fine asses had money, they had a little positioning in the community, and they were usually dirty as hell. And talk about women? They had chicks out the ass. A big, powerful man like Trey just had to be a pussy magnet. He probably had women hiding in his bushes, under his bed, and all up in his clothes closet too.

  We were walking through the center when I noticed the crazy shadows that were being cast all over the floor.

  “What’s that?” I asked looking up. A skinny dude was at the top of a long ladder. The ceiling was made of thousands of panes of glass, and almost every one of them had something written on it in shiny gold lettering. The noon sun was beaming brightly down inside the gym, and it caught the outline of the letters and cast them as shadows on the floor.