Lickin' License Part 2: More Sex, More Saga

by Intelligent Allah

  LICKIN' LICENSE II

  More Sex, More Saga

  A Tale of Street Erotica

  by

  Intelligent Allah

  CHAPTER ONE

  CANDY

  Put it in my mouth,” Candy begged as she dropped to her knees and reached for Rich's dick.

  Rich cradled her head in his palm, steering her toward his dick as Vanessa juggled his balls in her mouth. He tilted his head back and gazed at the sky from the 21-story balcony of the MGM Grand Hotel in Las Vegas.

  Candy twirled her tongue around the head of his 10-inch anaconda, then gripped it with both of her hands. She closed her eyes and savored the juices remaining from the past twenty minutes when he had sexed Vanessa against the sliding glass door of the balcony. Candy removed her hands and took in almost all Rich had to offer. She could feel the blood circulating in his veins as it pulsated his erection. She pulled Vanessa's head until they both were working Rich's shaft.

  “Damn,” Rich mumbled. “Shit.”

  Candy's eyes rolled up to his dark, chiseled chest, then to Vanessa's bushy 'fro and flawless, light skin. For over two years the trio had been experiencing an unconditional love that had snatched Candy from a world of lesbianism and introduced the curvaceous beauty to her bisexual identity. It didn't matter that she had sexed some of the most notorious hustlers in Harlem before she ventured into the world of girls. She was done with men until Vanessa convinced her to have a threesome.

  “Yeah, work that shit,” Rich mumbled.

  Candy watched the dark skin of Rich's six pack illuminate under the sunlight as he gripped her head tighter. She knew it was a sign that he was about to cum. She worked her tongue more and swallowed deeper. Her lips touched Vanessa's as they both pleasured Rich's thick shaft.

  “That's it,” Rich grunted before his knees buckled.

  Candy closed her eyes and swallowed every drop of cream that spurted from Rich's chocolate rod.

  “Damn, y'all ain't nothin' to fuck with,” he said as he regained his composure.

  Candy turned to Vanessa and they began kissing passionately. In seconds, Candy's amazon figure was entangled with Vanessa's petite frame. The two lovers pleased each other on the air mattress beneath the sky. Vanessa's head was clenched between Candy's thick thighs while Candy's tongue stimulated Vanessa's clit.

  Rich leaned against the door, watching the women engaged in sixty-nine.

  “Ahh, ahh,” Candy moaned. The redbone with the face of a model palmed both of Vanessa's small buttcheeks, slipped her tongue inside of Vanessa, then back and forth to her clit.

  “Yes, God,” Vanessa muttered as her body began to shake uncontrollably into a climax.

  Candy slurped Vanessa's juices, probing the slippery folds of her jittery frame until she was still. When they separated, Candy stared into Vanessa's blinking eyes. Candy always enjoyed the expressions of satisfaction she gave Vanessa.

  Rich grinned and stepped off the hotel balcony into their suite.

  Candy gently smacked Vanessa's butt. “Shower time.”

  The two women headed inside, showered and dressed. Candy was sitting on the king-sized bed, tying the straps of her Roberto Cavalli heels around her ankles when she got a glimpse of Vanessa that caused her to contemplate. Vanessa stood in front of a mirror applying cocoa butter to her face. The Bohemian beauty was dressed in a paisley dress, Howard University T-shirt and short blue blazer. Beside her clutch on a nearby chair was a small .380-caliber Grendell.

  Vanessa turned around. “What's up? I can see you watching me through the mirror.” “Nothing.” Candy smiled.

  “You never was a good liar and you know I don't enjoy people pissing in my ear.”

  Candy huffed. “I was just thinking about all we been through. How the hell somebody like me, with the hottest salon in Harlem and a line of hair care products, end up hiding out in Vegas?”

  “Hiding implies that you're scared of someone. And scared people don't empty a full clip into someone's face at point-blank range like you did to Chase.”

  Candy watched Vanessa walk toward her. Vanessa put her hands on Candy's shoulders and gently massaged her. Candy placed her hands on Vanessa's waist, then palmed her butt. “What's funny is I've been on the streets of Harlem with hustlers and thugs damn near all my life,” said Candy. “And you're the one who seems to be holding up better than me. Vanessa Denay, the college student raised in a Park Avenue condo. How did you, me, Rich . . . how did we end up here?”

  A glassy look was developing in Vanessa's eyes. An image caused by emotionally painful droplets slowly released from her tear ducts. Vanessa’s eyes began watering. She gently rubbed her hands over Candy's face. “Those bitches destroyed everything we were building. That's how we got here. And that's why every last one of them has to die.”

  The seriousness in Vanessa's eyes evoked all the memories and anger that Candy had been trying to suppress since she and Vanessa killed Chase. But Candy knew he deserved it. Rich had forced him to reveal who had helped him kidnap, torture, and molest Candy and then beat Rich's baby from her womb. Virtually everyone who was someone to the threesome was involved. Candy’s former salon employees, Chanel, Meisha and Leah. Candy’s ex-lover Vera and her twin brothers. Vanessa’s former friend Mimi.

  The more Candy thought of the guilty culprits, the angrier she became. The vindictiveness that circulated through Vanessa's veins pumped through Candy's blood as well. But it was Rich's constant reminder of the seriousness of their circumstances that had continuously worried Candy. Was it possible to murder seven people and get away with it? Was it worth the risk of losing the relationship and wealth they had worked hard to build? Rich answered no and Vanessa yes. Candy shifted back and forth on both sides of the coin.

  “Feel this,” said Vanessa, placing Candy's hand on her stomach.

  Candy's head dropped and she closed her eyes as she felt where Rich's seed was once cultivated. Vanessa had gone through with an abortion, against Candy and Rich's wishes. It was a rebellious act Vanessa rationalized as a show of camaraderie since she and Candy were set to give birth around the same time until Candy's kidnapping ended that.

  “I could never bring a child into this world until we take the people out of this world that took our child from your womb,” Vanessa stated.

  Her words reinvigorated Candy. They were the boost she needed but feared the flame to ignite her desire for revenge. She grabbed her iPhone off the bed and called Domingo. The mature young man was her link to the streets of New York City, the key to executing everyone on her hit list. He lived in Brooklyn's Red Hook Houses as did Vera and her brothers. He knew the other women involved through Candy's Shop. Domingo was a priceless asset. But Candy knew he was a hustler whose loyalty was to old white men with names like Benjamin Franklin and Ulysses Grant. It was for that reason Rich was always warning her not to trust Domingo.

  “Mamita, you ready to have my baby or what?” Domingo answered the phone with his flirtatious Spanish accent.

  Candy stared at the small screen on her phone, watching the young Latino sporting a fitted hat with his hometown of Brooklyn etched on it. “There's enough babies having babies in this world,” she responded.

  “Babies don't fill out a Magnum and pop Viagra like I do.”

  “Okay, enough of the Comic View. Let's get down to business.”

  “You talkin' my lingo, Mamita.”

  “What's new on Vera?”

  “I wish I could say a hairdo, 'cause her wig piece is crazy, ya heard?”

  Candy giggled.

  “Real talk, though. She gonna be in the East with the whole cre—”

  Candy stood up
and cut Domingo's statement short. “The East as in East New York? Crew meaning Mimi, Chanel, Leah, and Meisha?”

  “Everybody except the Twins,” Domingo said.

  “And I gotta call to find this out? When you was planning on tellin' me this?”

  “When you drop Rich and pick me up.”

  “Comedy is cool, but time is precious, so don't waste mine.”

  “I got you, Mamita. You got some weeks before this go down. That's why I ain't tell you nothin' yet.”

  “Date, time? I need specifics.”

  “June nineteenth, all day.”

  “Father's Day,” Candy said, nodding.

  “Exactly. The Father's Day Tournament at Seventy-two Park in the East.” Domingo explained that Vera and the other women would be at the annual Father's Day Basketball Tournament held in the park of P.S. 72. It was an East New York festivity that attracted hustlers and cheddar-chasing chicks like Chanel each year.

  “So this should be simple,” Candy said.

  Domingo shook his head. “East New York, Brooklyn ain't the Upper East Side of Manhattan. We talkin' about the Murder Capital of New York City. The place where they started bustin' shots in Cypress Projects when the mayor was speaking about stopping gun violence. Don’t think you just gonna come through, shoot shit up and bounce. If you don't come correct, don't come at all.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  VANESSA

  Vanessa and Candy were discussing everything Domingo had just said. Although Vanessa had grown up in a wealthy, virtually crime-free neighborhood, she was not ignorant to East New York. Between the news coverage of the neighborhood being violent and Chanel's war stories of drama she saw being raised in the neighborhood, Vanessa knew that pulling off a multiple homicide would not be easy. A couple of years earlier, when Vanessa was simply a straight-A college student with an apartment in Greenwich Village and a fear of violence, she would have not even considered the task at hand. But her love for Rich and Candy, coupled with the drama that the trio had experienced, had transformed Vanessa into a woman who had killed in cold blood and knew more about guns than many men.

  “We gotta plan this out right,” Candy said.

  Vanessa nodded. “On another note, you need to let Domingo know that flirting with you is disrespectful. I told him about that already.”

  “Girl, you know how he is. Been like that since I met him.”

  Vanessa shook her head. “That doesn't change the fact that it's disrespectful to me and Rich.”

  “It's not that serious.”

  Rich walked in the room, preceded by the scent of his cologne as he adjusted his striped tie on top of his Egyptian cotton shirt. “What's good?”

  Vanessa looked at Candy, then Rich.

  “Nothing.” She flashed a cheesy smile.

  Rich walked over to the bed, eyeing each woman. “The more y'alI look all nervous the more I start to speculate.” He plopped down on the bed. “So who gonna tell me something first?”

  Candy looked at Rich and then reached for her iPhone on the bed.

  “You gotta be quicker than that,” Rich said as he snatched it up.

  “A former drug dealer is tapping my phone,” Candy said, sucking her teeth. “Guess I'm good enough to have sex with, but not good enough to trust, huh?”

  Rich pressed redial.

  Oh God, Vanessa thought, peeping the nervousness plastered on Candy's face. Vanessa could still envision when Rich chastised her and Candy days earlier after he discovered they were still in contact with Domingo. This was after they had conceived their plot. But Rich instructed them to forget the idea and to never contact Domingo again.

  Rich stressed not only Domingo's untrustworthiness, but also that it was important that their contact with people in New York be limited. Vanessa had maintained contact with her father and her literary agent. Candy stayed in contact with the manager who oversaw the employees of her hair care line. Rich spent a limited amount of time at the exotic car rental service he co-owned with his uncle. Rich stressed that the trio's presence in New York City should be minimal, because there was speculation that they had killed Chase. Although two years had passed since Chase took his last breath, they had to be careful because murder had no statute of limitations.

  Rich let out a deep breath when he saw Domingo's face pop up on Candy's iPhone. He hung up immediately, then turned to Candy. “Why it's so hard for you to listen to me?” He turned to Vanessa. “I taught you to use a gun. I'm the one that was duckin' bullets in the streets and puttin' in work. I seen grimey dudes like Domingo pull snake moves on a regular. I’m puttin’ you on to shit because I lived it.” He tossed Candy’s phone on the bed.

  “You ain't the only one that was in the streets,” Candy said.

  Rich grinned. “It's a big difference between fuckin' gangsters and living the life of a G.”

  “Gangsters don't leave beef unresolved,” said Candy.

  Rich laughed and shook his head. “Candy, you're a beautician not an expert on gangsters and beef.”

  “Fuck you, Rich!” Candy barked.

  “All right, all right, all right.” Vanessa stepped in front of them. “We're not actors and this is not some television drama. There's no way I'm going to sit here and allow Chanel and the rest of these hos to damage our relationship anymore than they have already.”

  Candy looked at Rich. “You know I love you and Vanessa more than life itself.”

  “Then give me the benefit of the doubt on my assessment of this situation. We got nothing to gain.”

  “Peace of mind, Rich. That's what we stand to gain,” Candy said.

  “She's right,” Vanessa agreed. “We haven't been the same since this situation happened.” She recapped how their relationship had been reduced to a war that pitted Rich against her and Candy. Rich had managed to retire from the streets that he had run on since a preteen. He knew all that the streets entailed and was adamant about staying away from them. On the opposite side of Rich's argument was Vanessa's and Candy's newfound thirst for gunplay and their relentless hunger for revenge.

  “I can't rest until they're dead,” Candy said.

  “Me, either,” Vanessa added. “We've been holding back because of you, but it's time to finish what they started.”

  “Pardon me,” said Candy as she answered her phone and smirked at Rich. “You sure you need me?” Candy huffed. “Okay, Okay.” She dropped her phone and shook her head.

  “Who the fuck was that?” Rich demanded to know. “Better not had been Domingo again.”

  “I gotta go to New York City.”

  Rich shook his head.

  A million things were running through Vanessa’s mind. New York City was off limits. It was a zone that could place them in jeopardy of prison.

  “What’s up?” Vanessa asked Candy.

  “The business.” She explained that the executive team she oversaw needed her physical presence at an important meeting.

  “You know the rules.” Rich shook his head.

  “Cash Rules,” Candy said. “You make things a lot easier for me, but I never depended on a man for money. My ship is sinking and they need the captain.”

  Rich stood up and looked at both of his women. “I guess this is Fuck Rich Day.”

  Candy frowned. “That's the fuckin' problem. It ain't about you, Rich. The world don't revolve around Rich.”

  “A reckless mouth ain't gonna do none of us no good, so turn down the volume and swallow the venom.”

  Candy reached under the mattress and pulled out a .22-caliber Walther PPK, then tucked the small handgun in her Prada bag. She turned to Vanessa. “I got better shit to do than listen to this, and I know you do.”

  Vanessa kissed Rich on the cheek. “I love you, Rich.” She paused. “But if we wanna save our relationship, we have to get rid of the people causing us problems.” Vanessa walked out of the door with Candy.

  * * *

  Vanessa rode with Candy down the crowded elevator in silence. They exited at g
round level and strolled through the hotel lobby toward the front door.

  “Where are we going?” Vanessa asked. “New York?”

  “Not yet, just where our feet take us.”

  “That's real definitive.”

  “Was I wrong?” Candy asked.

  “Huh?”

  “Rich. How I handled him. Was I wrong?”

  “You were truthful, and that's all that matters.”

  “We're in Vegas and you still can't call a spade a spade.” Candy chuckled.

  “It's Sin City, I'm entitled to a lie or two every now and then. But I think you handled Rich fine. It's a harsh reality that I know he understands.”