Lickin' License Part 2: More Sex, More Saga

by Intelligent Allah

  Rich maintained his cool, practically snatching his hand back, because Nia didn't let it go.

  “Your accent, where are you from?” she asked.

  “New York. Harlem actually.”

  “What brings you to Atlanta?”

  “Business.”

  “Well, Rich from New York, Atlanta has a lot more to offer than money.” Nia flashed a seductive smirk. “Don't let it pass you by.”

  Zora's eyes beamed at Rich as he watched Nia strut off, her hips sashaying as her butt protruded from her pinstriped skirt. “Come on, Rich.” Zora tugged on his hand. “I wanna show you the stock room.”

  Competition. Rich knew Zora had just encountered her first challenge. He followed her into the large windowless room filled with boxes and a copy machine. Rich ingested the scent of paper and the cardboard boxes that housed it.

  Zora locked the door behind them. “Only a select few people are allowed in here,” she said, stepping in front of Rich. “It's where we keep hard copies of the records most essential to the company.”

  Rich turned around, taking in the sight of cardboard boxes stacked neatly against the back wall. File cabinets lined the remaining walls. The fact that King's company had accumulated so many records was impressive. The atmosphere diverged so much from their past, that Rich could not help but think back to the days he had helped King develop schemes to extort street hustlers. Back then, the thought of Rich being escorted by King's personal assistant through a corporation owned by King was unimaginable.

  “Check this out, Rich.”

  When Rich turned around to Zora, her hands were planted on a file cabinet, her slacks at her ankles. Rich gazed at her thong that vanished in the crack of her ass. He was momentarily startled, but he knew Zora was a spontaneous freak. Their sexual introduction in the elevator was proof of that. An episode they later had in a movie theater confirmed it. But sex in the stock room of her job was the kind of risk that could leave her unemployed and interfere with the bond and potential business Rich and King were working on. But Rich was a risk taker too. “So this is what goes on in a modeling agency?” he said.

  “Competition, remember? Water cooler discussions in the company are like a gossip column in the Enquirer about who's fucking who. But I told you that few people come in here, and I locked the door for a reason.

  Rich looked around, and then back to Zora's perfectly round ass. He peeled out of his blazer, dropping it on a shelf. Then he dropped his pants. He took one step forward and slipped his index finger under her thong and glided his hand over her rear as he removed the thong. His dick was a brick. It had burst through the slot of his boxers the second he saw Zora's ass swallow her thong.

  “Come on, Rich. Nothing extravagant, just a quickie.”

  He grabbed Zora's ass with one hand and used the other to guide himself inside of her. “Ahh,” she panted.

  Her hot flesh tightened around his dick as he slammed into her. “Damn, girl. Shit,” he mumbled.

  “Go deeper,” Zora uttered. She rocked her ass back into Rich's thrusts.

  Rich gripped her waist tighter, entering her quicker.

  “Yes, yes, ahh, yes.” Zora's moans came out faster as Rich increased his pace. He continued for minutes, before he turned Zora around and pulled her down. She squatted in her Gucci pumps, taking Rich into her mouth. She sucked the hot nectar from his stiffness.

  “Yeah, like that, girl.” Rich grabbed the top of the file cabinet for support.

  Zora slid her tongue down the side of his dick until she took each of his balls into her mouth.

  “Damn,” he moaned.

  She began jerking his dick, while slurping his balls.

  Rich closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as a jubilant sensation resonated throughout his entire body.

  Zora continued jerking and slurping, before wrapping her lips back around his dick and juggling Rich's balls in her hand. As she sucked, she circled the head of his dick with her tongue, drawing Rich to a climax.

  “Shit, damn, wooooo,” Rich was breathing heavy as Zora swallowed his load.

  She stood up, wiping her lips. “Nia ain't gonna take care of you like that.”

  “Nia?”

  “I got twenty-twenty vision and a one-twenty I.Q., so I saw how she was on you and I know her intent.”

  Rich secured his belt and dusted off his blazer. “We got a good thing going, but I don't remember walking down no aisle.”

  “There's a level of respect that accompanies even open relationships. And that entails you not creeping with people I have to see every day for eight hours and on holidays at company events.”

  Rich pulled Zora toward him as she adjusted her blouse. He kissed her. “I do a lot of dirt, but I got more sense than to dump it in front of your door.”

  Zora looked into his eyes. “I hope so.”

  Rich had previously sensed possessiveness in Zora. Her mouth said open relationship, but her actions spoke a loyalty shared by people who exchanged vows and engage in pillow talk until Alzheimer's set in and they were parted by a casket. Rich had been through more drama than he could remember because of possessive women. The type of drama he hoped Zora didn't reintroduce him to.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  DOMINGO

  Domingo was inside Vera's apartment the day after Leah was murdered. He was seated beside Vera on a couch in the living room. Mimi and Chanel were sitting across from them on a loveseat. Domingo had been listening as the women tried to make sense of Leah's death while they grieved. Domingo was still surprised that Candy and Vanessa actually killed Leah, her unborn child and her husband. He had underestimated their appetite for vengeance and willingness to go to the extreme of killing her child and husband. While Domingo knew Candy's kidnapping and torture could turn sweet women like her and Vanessa sour, the only image he had of them were the delicate, beautiful women who seemed harmless.

  “Why?” Vera asked to no one in particular as she gazed at the ceiling fan. She leaned her head on Domingo's shoulder.

  He wrapped his arm around her. It amazed Domingo that none of the women had even speculated that their actions and Leah's had caused her demise. It's been a couple of years, though. Guess they rocked these chicks to sleep for real. A substantial amount of time had elapsed since Candy's kidnapping and torture and her name rarely entered conversations between the women. But Domingo still assumed the women were street savvy enough to at least speculate on the possibility of Candy, Vanessa or Rich being involved in the fatal shooting.

  “She didn't deserve that shit, feel me?” Mimi wiped the tears from her slanted eyes. The Asian hood chick had seen a lot coming up in Queen's Baisley Projects. But witnessing her pregnant friend get gunned down was new to her. She was in the back seat of the truck, but had been engaged in an intense phone call so she had stayed inside while Leah exited. Mimi nearly peed her pants as shots were fired and she watched Leah and her husband get brutally gunned down. Fear had paralyzed her in shock, making it hard for her to see through the tinted windows at the faces of Candy and Vanessa. “I'll never forget seeing Leah and Moses get shot. All I remember is how their bodies dropped.”

  Chanel stood up in the center of the living room, strands of her long weave shifting beneath the ceiling fan. The sexy, chocolate beauty dressed head-to-toe in Chanel looked at Vera. “What if Rich did this shit?”

  “That motherfucker been missing in action for a couple of years now. Him and his chicks,” Mimi said.

  “What that 'posed to mean?” Chanel asked, shrugging her shoulders.

  Vera said, “The chances of him being involved in this are slim.”

  Chanel shook her head. “You don't know Rich.”

  Mimi nodded. “People get rocked to sleep in the hood on a regular, feel me?”

  “All right, all right, all right,” Domingo said. He stood beside Vera, facing Chanel and Mimi. He cared less about Rich getting fingered. It might actually be a good thing if there was no potential for hearsay leading to the truth. Th
at truth could cause Domingo to lose out on the constant stream of money from Candy for him relaying them information. And his hope to get inside her panties would be undermined by something happening to her. “Ain't no use chasing ghosts,” he said. “Rich, Vanessa, Candy—they probably was in Westbubblefuck somewhere having a ménage when them hot rocks hit Leah. You need to be thinking about Jennifer.”

  “Jennifer?” Chanel shrugged her shoulders after voicing the name of Moses' ex-girl who he had dumped for Leah.

  “You know she ain't get along with Leah,” Domingo said.

  Chanel shook her head. “But I can't see her trying to kill Leah.”

  “What's good?” Meisha asked. The chunky Harlemite walked into the room while moving her curly hair behind her ear.

  Domingo turned to the brown-skinned woman who he considered Chanel's flunky since the day he met them both in Candy's Shop. “Chanel was over here pulling a mixtape.”

  “Mixtape?” Meisha's eyebrows rose.

  “Freestyling like she on a mixtape,” Domingo grinned as he adjusted his Gucci specs.

  Chanel said, “We was talkin' about Leah—”

  “And you started freestyling about Rich killing her,” Domingo cut Chanel short.

  “Domingo thinks Jennifer might have did it,” Vera said.

  Meisha flopped down on the recliner beside the sound system in the far corner of the room. Suddenly there was a somber look on her round face that appeared to be rooted in something deeper than Leah's death.

  “Meisha, holler at ya boy,” said Domingo.

  She broke down, crying.

  Chanel rushed to her aid, placing her hands on Meisha's shoulders. “What's up?”

  After a moment of silence, Meisha wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “Domingo might be on the right track.”

  “What?” Mimi asked.

  “I didn't think about it until y’all just said Jennifer.”

  “Think about what?” Chanel asked.

  Meisha huffed while slowly shaking her head. “Leah had told me Moses owed some money to Jennifer's brother and he was some major cat in the Bronx.”

  Domingo shook his head. “Can't be playin' with people bread. Dudes want they gwap.” He sat down and listened as the women speculated about this mysterious man from the Bronx. He reflected on the memories of Candy and Vanessa as friends of the women in front of him and he was amazed. He knew Candy and Vanessa had a vendetta, but he still experienced an awkward feeling from the reality of them killing Leah. Domingo had seen countless failed attempts to kill official thugs in the hood. He had also seen bullets separate friends. But the killers had always been known gun slingers or men with reputations that made killing a logical step up in their drama-filled lives. But Candy and Vanessa defied these odds. As Domingo looked at the women in the room with him, he felt slightly bad for them, because he knew they were ignorant to the fact they were targets in the sights of two gun-toting women who were now merciless killers.

  * * *

  Later that night Domingo blew out a cloud of weed smoke and poured his third shot of Patron from the bottle that circulated through the room. He passed the blunt to Vera, who sat beside him. It was one of two blunts making its rounds to Mimi, Chanel and Meisha. Domingo didn't know if it was the weed and liquor, but he could have sworn Mimi actually peeped up Vera's skirt for what appeared to be the third time in the last ten minutes. The thought of Vera moaning out Mimi's name when he was eating her out flashed in his mind. He had never seen a sign of Mimi being interested in women. But Vanessa had revealed Mimi having at least one female affair. They gotta be messing around. Must be that piff and Patron. Mimi can't hold her liquor or handle weed.

  Vera leaned back and stretched out, her dreads dangling behind the couch and her breasts bulging from her shirt as her back arched. “This Patron is serious,” she giggled.

  Domingo felt his dick getting hard as his eyes beamed at her breasts and quickly drifted down to her thick thighs. He thought about how he had struggled to get his tongue inside of her. Damn, I gotta get my dick in that tight-ass lesbo pussy.

  Vera leaned forward, making eye contact with Domingo. She smiled and shook her head, before standing up. She began strutting to the back of the apartment.

  Domingo watched Mimi's eyes following Vera's butt switch from her high-heel stride. Mimi definitely got her lickin' license.

  “Pass that bottle,” Chanel said.

  Domingo handed the Patron to Chanel and gazed down her cleavage as she reached for it. “You need to cover up those tig old bitties before I lose control up in here.”

  Chanel laughed. “You gotta be gettin' it like Bill Gates just to drink from these D-cups.” She laughed as she poured a shot of liquor. “But if you got Warren Buffet money, I'll let you get a close-up.”

  “That's a lotta paper for some eye candy,” said Domingo.

  “The Chanel Legacy is for the rich and famous,” Chanel responded.

  Domingo reached underneath his shorts and pulled a 40-caliber Walther from his waist. “This is for the rich and famous.” He chuckled. “They make it, I take it.”

  “Shit, the way you reach in your pants, I thought you had the heart to show me something else,” Chanel said, before sipping some Patron.

  Domingo grabbed his dick through his shorts. “I pull out this Bazooka, you gon' run for cover before it start spittin', ya heard?”

  Chanel's chinky red eyes shut as she downed the last of her shot. When they opened, she pointed at Domingo. “I got you by ten years, so let me tell you a jewel. Sometimes you gotta spare the rod to spoil the girl. 'Cause I need a tongue to cum, and I'm not talking no lickin' license shit.”

  Domingo stood, his high hitting him on another level. He braced himself, grabbed his crotch, and then flashed a peace sign with his other hand. “Deuces. I gotta go empty out this Bazooka.”

  “You are crazy,” Mimi said as he stepped off.

  Domingo walked into the back of Vera's apartment toward the bathroom. Stepping through the narrow hall, he watched her saunter toward him, her hips swaying rhythmically. As they neared each other, he gently grabbed her hands and stared into her dilated pupils. “When you gon' let me hit that?”

  She giggled, the scent of liquor oozing from her. “Stop playing.”

  “Games for kids and I'm a grown-ass man, ya heard? You let me eat it, now let’s take this to the next level.”

  “When you start wearing skirts and bras, call me.” Vera grinned and pulled her hand from Domingo. She began walking off.

  “Skirts and bras like Mimi?”

  Vera stopped. Her jaw dropped as she turned around. “Excuse me?”

  Domingo stepped over and grabbed her hand again. “You was calling for Mimi when I was eatin' that pussy and Mimi's eyeballs was all between your legs earlier.” Domingo placed her hand on his dick as it almost burst through his shorts. “Chanel and Meisha don't gotta know about us. And definitely not Jahiem.”

  “What?” Vera screamed and jumped back as if his dick was poison. “You tryin' to blackmail me?” She laughed. “I'm the one that blackmailed Vanessa, remember?”

  “I'm just trying to keep this between us.”

  “Oh, you don't want nobody to know how you ate my pussy and I sent you on your way? If you love your life, you definitely don't want my brothers finding out.”

  “You need to calm down.”

  Vera shook her head quickly, her dreads swinging wildly from side to side. “Fuck that. You wanna talk about me and Mimi, so fuck it.”

  This chick is wildin'. I ain't trying to go to war with her brothers, Domingo thought as he trailed behind her and she stomped into the living room waving her hands helplessly.

  “What's up?” Chanel asked as Vera took center stage beside the coffee table the women sat around.

  Vera grabbed the Patron off the table and downed the mouthful left in the bottle. She faced Mimi, then Chanel and Meisha. “Me and Mimi got it on twice.”

  “Yeah, right,” Meisha sai
d.

  “I'm dead ass.” Vera retold the story of how Mimi had cried on her shoulders after an argument with Jahiem. Conversing led to a hug that led to Vera's lips and tongue relieving Mimi of her stress before they ended up naked in bed. Mimi admitted to having had an experience with a woman before. She and Vera admitted to having a second affair within the following week.

  Domingo was silent.

  “This shit is crazy,” Chanel said. “It's Candy and Vanessa all over again.”

  “It happened and that was that,” Vera said. “Shit happens.”

  “Yeah,” Mimi confirmed.

  Vera pointed at Domingo. “But this flirtin' motherfucker ate my pussy and tried to blackmail—”