“Believe me, Mike, that won’t be a problem. I’ma fuck that nigga ‘til he in a coma!”
“Naw, naw, we don’t need him in no coma, Meka,” Ant D said, grinning. “If he can’t talk, then how the fuck we gon’ get the safe combination outta his ass?” All three of them burst out laughing.
$$$
Fresh out of the shower, Twan started getting dressed. His mind was occupied with thoughts of Meka. That was his baby. She meant a lot to him. He had yet to meet a girl that could hold his attention and keep him captivated the way she did. With the type of money he was making, he had the baddest women the south had to offer at his fingertips. But none of them understood him like Meka did.
Thoughts of marriage crept through his head while he got fresh, throwing on a cream linen suit, and some brown leather Gucci hard bottoms.
Though Twan wasn’t sitting on kingpin status just yet, he was definitely a major figure. He was part of one of The Upstate’s biggest drug organizations, and was moving about ten keys a week. His uncle ran the organization, and it was he who had put him on. His uncle told him he saw the potential in him early on, so he was grooming him to take his place someday.
Twan wasn’t a kingpin yet but he had no qualms with spending money like one. His philosophy was that you only lived once, so a nigga might as well live like tomorrow would never come. And the type of lifestyle Twan was engaged in, that was always a possibility. He was only a year in the game, but at twenty-four years old, he already owned his own 4 bedroom, 3 1/2 bathroom house, with a swimming pool, and large back yard. His estate was complete with a 3 car garage where he kept his black Range Rover, white 645 BMW coupe with Lamborghini doors, and an old school Chevy he had restored with his own bare hands in his spare time. He had everything he wanted. So now, with a girl who was wifey material by his side, he was already seriously considering getting out of the game. After he touched a few more millions, that is.
Despite his intelligence, and his uncle’s constant advice not to get involved in a serious relationship with anything but the game, Twan couldn’t help the way he felt about Meka. He had so much respect for her he never discussed his business with her. He knew she knew he was a dope boy, but he did his best to shield her from his criminal lifestyle. They’d been together for months, and he still hadn’t introduced her to any of his close friends or family. Almost all of them were involved in the dope game, in some way or another.
Twan understood the crabs in a bucket, animalistic mentality of the ‘hood all too well, so he didn’t want Meka to wind up getting kidnapped or something. He was stacking chips like Pringles, and he knew he had become prey for the predators the second he started. In the ‘hood it was simple: Survival of the fittest. The theorist Charles Darwin called it Natural Selection. So Twan took proper precautions. He had security cameras installed strategically outside his house, and a stash box in each of his vehicles for his assortment of guns and ammunition.
Before leaving his house, Twan activated the security system, and looked at the monitors in his den to make sure shit was in order. This had become a habit every time he stepped out. It was part of his routine now, since his finances had increased so drastically.
Reassured of his safety, Twan walked over to his garage and tried to decide which car to pull out. Since it was August, and the night was hot, he figured he’d take the Beemer coupe, and let the top down. Meka loved being seen in the 645. She told him that she got wet whenever she rode in it, so the 6 was a no brainer. He opened the door, got in, and started up the car. Twan was in a good mood, so he decided to blast that old school Jigga and Jermaine Dupri, “Money Ain’t a Thing.”
“In the Ferrari or Jaguar switchin’ 4 lanes - Top down screamin’ out money ain’t a thing. Bubble hard in the double R flashin’ the rings - With the window cracked, holla back, money ain’t a thing…”
Twan rapped along with Hov’, and pulled out of his garage. He was on his way to pick up his baby from her mama’s house in The District.
$$$
Meka took a quick shower, and quickly dried off. She got out, and slowly and sensually rubbed Burberry lotion all over her body. Next, she walked over to her closet and tried to figure out what to wear that night. She knew she wouldn’t be wearing whatever it was long, but Meka still wanted to be as fly as possible. After so many years of extreme poverty, her psyche wouldn’t allow her to step out of the house looking anything less than her best. She even made shit like going to the grocery store a red carpet event.
She finally decided on a slinky black Prada dress. Twan had dropped a couple of stacks on that dress for her a few months back. It was one-shouldered, and accentuated her best assets. To add a splash of color and set the dress off, she selected a pair off metallic gold, opened toed Jimmy Choos. They were five inch stilettos, with straps up to her mid-calf. She sat down and put on her shoes first. Afterwards, not bothering to put on any underwear, she slipped into her dress.
“Meka, there’s somebody at the door for you,” hollered Glo from the living room.
Meka glanced at her diamond encrusted Cartier watch, which was another gift from Twan, and saw that it was nine o’clock.
“Ok mama, I’m comin’!” yelled Meka. She sprayed herself with expensive, exotic scented perfume, and headed for the living room. When she stepped out there and saw Twan’s face, immediately she knew she had made the right wardrobe decision.
“Damn, girl! You lookin’ sexy as hell!” exclaimed Twan.
“Thank you, daddy. I wanted our time together this weekend to be unforgettable,” said Meka, with a sly little smile on her face.
“Come here, girl. Let me get a taste of them lips real quick.”
Meka walked over to Twan, and hugged his 6 foot 2 inched frame. He bent down and slipped his tongue in her mouth, and sucked on her lips. Her scent was intoxicating to him.
Meka became aroused, and her nipples fought to break through the soft fabric of her dress. She pulled her head back, and said, “Let’s go, daddy. I’m starving.” She massaged his dick over his pants, and wondered if he caught the double meaning of her words.
Twan nodded, adjusted his stiff dick, and smiled. On the way to the car, he smacked Meka on her soft, round ass, and noticed that she was panty-less. That only excited him more. He honestly wanted to skip the restaurant, and head straight to the house. But he wanted to make the night special for his lady.
Inside the car, Twan put on some old school Jodeci. “Every time I close my eyes, I wake up feeling so horny. I can’t get you outta my mind, sexing you is all I need. I would do anything just to make you understand me - I don’t give a damn about nothing else, freakin’ you is all I need.”
“Oh, you thinkin ‘bout freakin’ me tonight?” asked Meka.
“Damn right,” replied Twan.
“Well guess what, daddy. Tonight, your wish is my command.” She gave him a smile that cemented her intentions.
$$$
At 9:33 P.M. Twan pulled up at the Red Dragon, an upscale Mandarin Chinese restaurant. They had the best oriental food in the upstate of South Carolina. Twan parked the car and put the top back up, and then he killed the ignition. When he opened the custom doors, they slid up, instead of out like every other car in the parking lot. An elderly white woman who was leaving the restaurant just stared with her mouth ajar, probably thinking she’d just been transported into the future.
Once inside the restaurant, Twan chose a table away from the crowd. He wanted them to have a little privacy. The tables in the restaurant were candlelit, adding a soft, warm effect to the establishment. Twan knew that would only enhance their dining experience.
Their waiter soon arrived at their table, and handed them both menus. They ordered appetizers to start out with, and glasses of white wine.
The couple made small talk, and exchanged sexually charged glances amidst the sensual oriental ambiance of the restaurant until their food arrived. When the waiter returned with their orders, he refilled their glasses with chardo
nnay.
Twan and Meka were eating, when over walked Rico, one of Twan’s workers. Rico had his main girl with him. Her name was Tasha.
“What it is, Twan?” asked Rico.
“Ain’t shit, Rico, just enjoyin’ a lil’ time out with my ol’ lady, ya heard?”
“Hey Twan,” said Tasha.
“What’s up, Tasha, what’s good?”
“I’m good. But you obviously ain’t,” replied Tasha, looking directly at Meka. “Not when you fuckin’ with them 2-5 bitches.”
Meka put her fork down, and said, “Hold up, you frog lookin’, STD infested, broke ass slut. The next time you call me a bitch, you better be ready to fight, bitch! Don’t hate on the District just because all you Fieldcrest bitches get A.I.D.S. while we get money!” exclaimed Meka, loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear.
“Only reason half y’all bitches be gettin’ any bread is ‘cause you suck and fuck for it,” retorted Tasha.
Meka lunged across the table at that bitch with a fork in her hand. Her plan was to stab her in the face with it, but Twan held her back. She knocked over their drinks in the process.
“Rico, get ya’ girl, homey! I don’t even appreciate her comin’ over here wit’ that bullshit, disrespectin’ my lady while we out tryna have a good time.”
“That’s my bad, Twan. I just came over to discuss a lil’ business wit’ you real quick.”
“Get at me Monday, my nigga. During business hours. This weekend right here is already reserved,” stated Twan, glancing at Meka.
“Bet it up. Come on, Tasha,” Rico said, snatching her by the arm.
“Nigga, don’t be snatchin’ on me! I ain’t no muh’fuckin’ doll!” Tasha looked like she was fuming on their way out of the restaurant.
A few minutes later, Twan noticed Meka wasn’t eating. He asked, “What’s wrong, Meka? Why you ain’t eatin’ the rest of your food?”
“That frog lookin’ bitch done spoiled my appetite,” said Meka, with a frown on her face. She just sat there playing with her food with her fork.
“Come on, baby, it ain’t that serious.”
On any other night, Twan would’ve been right. But it wasn’t the comments that Tasha made that had Meka so upset. It was the fact that her and Rico would be able to say that she was the last person seen with Twan while he was still alive. But she told herself it wouldn’t matter. Meka was ruthless when it came to men, so she dismissed those second thoughts fast. That nigga Twan was on the list, and it was going down.
She said, “Daddy, to be honest with you, I’m ready to go. Let’s get outta here so I can go ‘head and feed you yo’ dessert.” Meka licked her glossy lips, knowing that drove Twan out of his mind.
Just as she expected, he said, “Fuck it, lets ride.” He dropped a crisp hundred dollar bill on the table to pay for the $72 meal, and cover a hearty tip.
They exited the restaurant, and headed to the car. After they got in, Twan peeled off toward his house.
Chapter 4
As soon as Meka and Twan walked through the door of his house, they were all over each other like two wild animals in the jungle. Twan de-activated the security system, and he was so preoccupied with Meka he forgot to turn it back on after he shut the door. Meka peeped this, and smiled to herself.
Her performance as Twan’s leading lady gave Oscar winning actresses a run for their money. But one thing she never had to fake with him was sex. When he ripped her little dress off and put his hand between her thighs, he discovered that she was already dripping wet. She was ready. His excitement showed through his pants. He fumbled with his belt, anxious to get inside of her.
Finally, with Meka’s help, he got his pants undone and let them drop to the floor. Fully erect, he picked Meka’s small but voluptuous frame up, and entered her roughly.
She clawed his shoulders, and screamed, “Oh my God!” His landing was rough, but she took it. Meka moaned and cried, “Fuck me, Twan. Fuck me, daddy. I wanna feel that dick, baby! Give it to me!”
She wrapped her thick brown legs around Twan’s waist. Twan was pretty average sized, and he was trying to bang Meka’s back out, but she acted like it wasn’t enough. She screamed, “Harder! Harder, daddy! I wanna feel it!”
Twan obeyed, and thrust himself inside of Meka even harder. Both of them were sweating profusely. It was too much. He yelled, “Oh shit, baby! I can’t hold it, Meka, I’m ‘bout to bust! Aahh, I swear! I’m ‘bout to bust!”
Meka sucked on his earlobe, and said, “Bust that nut in me, daddy. I wanna feel it up in my guts.”
As soon as she said that, Twan released his load inside of her. When she felt his penis softening, Meka caressed him and cooed, “Now let’s go upstairs, so I can get you back hard, daddy.”
After he caught his breath, Meka grabbed his hand and led him up the stairs to the master bedroom. As he ascended the lavish carpeted steps behind her, Twan could see his sticky semen sliding down her inner thighs.
Once inside the bedroom, Meka dropped to her knees and began giving Twan some brain. She used techniques she had seen in a few porno movies. She worked on his dick slowly, licking it and kissing it, all the while inhaling the musty scent of his sweaty balls. Seeing that it was taking him a minute to get back up, she decided to try a different strategy. She took Twan’s meat out of her mouth, and positioned herself behind him, while still on her knees. She spit saliva into her right hand, and then Meka did something she had never done before. She placed her face between Twan’s buttocks, and started licking his asshole, simultaneously using her hand full of spit to jack him off. She felt him jump with surprise, but she could tell he liked it.
Twan would have never let her put anything up his ass, but he had to admit he liked the rim job Meka was giving him. In fact, it was driving him crazy. In seconds, he was hard again, and ready to bust before he knew it.
Meka could tell he was close to the edge, so she worked her hand even faster. She still had her face buried between his ass cheeks, tornado tongue twirling his hole. The tickling sensation was driving him mad. That nigga had his toes curled.
“Goddamn, Meka, you killin’ me, girl!” Twan yelled.
Meka stopped working his shaft, and gently squeezed his balls. That pushed him over the edge. Spurts of semen skeeted wildly from his dick. Twan closed his eyes, and mumbled Meka’s name over and over again, like he was in a trance. Damn, no woman had ever made him feel that way. He wanted to marry that girl.
Just then, two masked figures came through the bedroom door brandishing black pistols that matched their attire. Meka pretended to be too afraid to scream. Eyes wide with horror, she jumped up and grabbed a sheet, attempting to cover her naked body.
Twan was still in a daze, and physically weak from all the sex. He didn’t even notice the intruders, until one of them smacked him on the back of the head with his pistol. “Yo Twan, what’s up, my nigga?”
The force of the blow made Twan spin around. He was greeted by two faceless figures, both pointing pistols at his melon. Twan stared into the seemingly infinite holes of the barrels, and was paralyzed with fear. His bowels loosened, and his stomach emptied right there. Loose, hot shit traveled down his legs, and embarrassed him even more in front of Meka. The stench of his feces quickly permeated the bedroom. Twan’s weakened legs gave out on him, and he fell back onto the bed. Everything happened so fast, he didn’t know what to do, or say.
“Goddamn, nigga! You done shit on yo’self?!” asked one of the masked assailants rhetorically. “Look here, Twan, we gon’ make this shit real simple, ‘cause I swear to God I ain’t tryna be smellin’ yo’ shitty ass all night! I’ma ask you some questions, and I want some honest answers, dig? All we want is the paper, nigga. We get that, and you live. We don’t, and you die. See how simple that is.” The man’s voice was slightly muffled from the mask.
Twan was still in complete shock from the situation. He could only nod his head “yes.”
“Alright, where’s the stash at?” The masked
man to his right asked.
Twan finally remembered how to move his lips and talk. He said, “Look man, I-I-I d-don’t keep no money here at the house.”
“Wrong answer,” stated the masked man to his left. He already knew that was a lie. He walked over to the bed and began beating Twan mercilessly with the butt of his black .44 magnum. Twan balled up in the fetal position and tried to avoid any more damage to his face. It was already bleeding and swollen in several places. From the looks of it, his nose had to be broken because it was gushing blood.
“Now we gon try this one mo’ time!” yelled the man who had just finished pistol whipping Twan. “Where the fuck the stash at!?”
“Man l-listen, I swear on my m-m-mama’s life there ain’t no money in here,” Twan stuttered. His normally deep baritone had become a falsetto.
“Wrong answer,” stated the other masked assailant. “It looks like he wanna be brave, and do this shit the hard way,” the man said to his partner.
Meka finally spoke up. “Twan, please just give them the money! It’s not worth our lives, baby!”
“You better listen to ya’ girl, dog. She tryna save you a lot of pain and suffering.”
Twan just remained silent.
“Look here, nigga. It’s too late for you to be tryna play tough guy after you done already shit on yo’self.”
Twan still refused to speak.
The masked man on the left said, “Alright, fuck it.” He placed the pistol on the bottom of Twan’s foot, and squeezed the trigger. Blood, bone, and pieces of flesh splattered everywhere, and Twan screamed at the top of his lungs. He sounded like a wounded animal being devoured by a hungry predator.
Now Twan realized the seriousness of the situation. It wasn’t a game. Half of his foot was missing. He finally spoke, his voice quavering with fear. “It’s… it’s in the closet,” he whimpered.
“Speak up, mothafucka! I can’t hear you,” the masked man commanded.
ANYTHING 4 PROFIT (ANYTHING FOR PROFIT) Page 3