by Noire
Noble had hit her number later that night and laid down his ever-persuasive rap. They’d talked until his cell phone got too hot to hold. Glorious rambled on, telling him all kinds of shit. She was working on a career in the perfume industry, her last boyfriend had gotten deported back to Haiti, and in her opinion most men these days were fake-ass liars, so she’d kept her legs closed for the past six months.
“I’m not pulling off my thong until I find me a real man,” Glorious had stated boldly.
“I’m real,” Noble told her. “As real as you can get.”
“Serious shit,” she huffed. “I’m tired of all the fake-ass brothahs who either wanna live off a professional sistah, or put his foot all up in her high and mighty ass! So when it comes to getting some of this good na-na, posers need not apply.”
Noble was all for that. He was a straight-up nig, and he appreciated a woman who knew what she wanted and laid down the house rules! Matter of fact, he liked it more when he actually had to work for it, and two nights later him and Glorious were chilling at his brownstone in Brooklyn, sharing some Chinese takeout and a bottle of good wine.
They’d done all the usual first date shit without ever leaving the house. They talked about their families, the jobs, where they saw themselves in five years when they got their lives set.
“You look like you set right now,” Glorious had complimented him as she glanced around his crib in appreciation. “You living real large for a street cop.”
Noble just nodded. He knew his shit was impressively laid out. He’d paid cash for his brownstone back when they were going for pennies on the dollar, and he’d had the interior remodeled to suit his tastes. There were two gas fireplaces in the joint, loads of imported hardwood that had been etched and distressed by hand, granite, marble, antique collectibles, you name it. One of his exes had been an interior designer, and all Noble’s furniture screamed quality and class. He collected expensive sculptures, and had them artfully displayed throughout the house. Nothing Noble had was over the top for a dude whose pockets were as knotty as his, but Glorious was right. Noble’s economic status was higher than that of ten cops, but of course he kept that info under his hat.
He thanked Glorious when she complimented him again on his setup, as she smiled over the rim of her long-stemmed crystal flute. The wine had them both nice and loose, and Noble was feeling good as they snuggled up close on his sofa and acted like they were watching a karate movie.
But in reality, Glorious wasn’t watching nothing above Noble’s waist, and his love muscle was sho’nuff throbbing for her too.
“I don’t usually be all up in no strange man’s house,” Glorious giggled as she pressed her wet lips to his neck and slid her dainty hand up Noble’s left thigh.
“We’ve been talking so much that I don’t feel like a stranger,” Noble told her, rubbing his thumb across her pouty lower lip. Glorious was a real sweet package. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her curly hair, smoky eyes, juicy breasts, and thick, ghetto ass.
“But I wanna get to know you,” she breathed, rubbing up and down the hard muscle of his thigh. “Really, really know you.”
“Oh, you gon’ get to know me,” Noble promised as her hand snaked toward the hammer that was banging in his crotch. He caught his breath as she cupped his package and squeezed it gently between her fingers.
“Damn your shit is big,” she whispered.
“Yeah, baby,” Noble moaned. “It sure is. And you about to get every inch of it. As much as you can stand.”
Noble pulled her to his chest and kissed her, their tongues tangling as he probed and thrust into the wetness of her mouth. Noble hadn’t been with a woman since before he’d left the narcotics division, and it was hard to stop his fingers from scurrying all over her juicy body like ants on an apple slice.
They were both moaning now. Humming into each other’s mouths. They were as close as they could get while sitting down, and Noble wanted to push her back on the sofa and climb on top of her, but then suddenly Glorious pulled away and stood up.
Noble panted as he watched her. He wanted some of that. The sight of her rock-hard nipples poking through her thin shirt made his tongue tremble.
“Noble,” she’d whispered coyly. “We both grown so I’m just gonna put it out there. I wanna be with you tonight. I really do. But I’m scared.”
“Scared of what?” he asked. “You’re a woman, and I’m a man. And like you said, we’re grown. I wanna get with you real bad, baby. I would never hurt you.”
Glorious shook her head. “I’m not scared that you’ll hurt me, I’m scared you might ... well ... judge me... .”
Judge her? It was Noble’s turn to shake his head. From what he could see, Glorious was simply fuckin’ glorious! Phat and stacked. The girl had the type of body every man wanted.
“Judge you for what?”
She looked down at her feet and blinked hard a few times.
“Well, just so you’re aware ... I know I look good, but everything about me isn’t quite perfect. Some men can’t handle that.”
Noble was confused. Her body was a work of art, and she had his drawers straight rocked up. What could be more perfect than what she was holding? Instead of responding, Noble stood and swept her up in his arms. Walking carefully, he carried her into his bedroom. He flipped off the light switch as he went through the door, and he was just about to lay her down on his five-thousand-dollar king-sized bed when she stopped him.
“Hold up,” she said firmly.
Sighing, Glorious wriggled out of his embrace.
They stood by the bed, both of them breathing hard like they were ready to get it on.
“Can you cut the light back on, please? I need you to see all of me. The real me.”
Noble nodded. His eyes were hungry for her and he did like she asked.
When he was standing in front of her again Glorious locked her gaze on his. She reached up and tugged at her hair, and then suddenly her beautiful curly mane was dangling from her hand.
“My real hair is natural,” she explained as Noble stared from the large swatch of silky hair in her hand to the half-inch of afro-puff covering her head. “I’m letting my new growth get a little longer, and then I’m gonna start twisting my locks.”
Noble nodded. Black chicks and their damn weaves. When would they learn that most dudes were more interested in the hair on their pussies than what was on their heads?
“Cool,” he said, and then added truthfully, “I like the way women look with locks.”
Noble’s dick was still on throb, and her fake hair wasn’t about to stop no show. Reaching for her hand, he took the wig from her and placed it gently on his dresser. Then he pulled Glorious back into his arms and held her tight, pressing her coconut-sized breasts into his chest and drooling at the thought of rolling those thick nipples around on his tongue.
Wordlessly, they grinded their lower bodies in sync, dry fucking like teenagers who wanted to tear off their clothes. Noble’s dick was straining to bust outta his drawers, and the heat coming from between Glorious’s legs had him imagining just how nice and wet her pussy must be.
His fingers crawled over her toned back, then he slid his palms up her sides and brought them around to squeeze those thick, extra-firm breasts.
“Umm, chill for a second,” Glorious whispered, pulling away again.
Noble just stood there as she stretched the neck of her sweater out and peeked down into her bosom area. She fumbled around down in there for a moment, and his eyes got wide as she plucked out first the right flesh-colored false titty, and then the left one.
Noble winced. She was holding those juicy, fabulous titties in her hands! To his horror, those bad boys were cinnamon brown, and had stiff little rubber nipples on them!
“I’ve lost over a hundred pounds,” Glorious explained. She chuckled like she was embarrassed, then gave him an awkward grin. “Breast tissue ain’t nothing but fat anyway, so ‘the girls’ were the first things to go.
I have to use these,” she said, holding up the two firm pieces of molded gel that Noble had been feeling all on, “because I lost the fat, but not the skin. Sorry”—she shrugged—“but my natural breasts sag a little bit. You said you wanted real? Well, this is what’s real.”
Noble stared at the deflated area of her chest and tried not to frown. C’mon, dude, he chastised himself. Not every woman is gonna have nice big knockers. Breasts—just like dicks—come in all different shapes and sizes.
“It’s all good,” he assured her. This chick was turning out to be full of surprises. But it was cool. After all, Noble had a little surprise of his own to reveal. He was just waiting for the time to be right.
Glorious tossed her fake titties up on the dresser next to her fake hair, and then she stepped up on Noble real close again. This time when she pressed herself against him she felt hard and skinny instead of soft and juicy. Her body had a whole different feeling going on in his groin. Noble had liked the other feeling much better.
Glorious raised her chin and they went back to kissing, but when she tried to touch his dick again, it was Noble who pulled away.
“Yo, Glo,” he chuckled gazing down into her gorgeous face. “You ain’t got no more surprises for me, do you, baby girl? I mean, those are your real teeth in your mouth and your real eyes in your head, ain’t they? I mean, you ain’t gon’ pop one of your eyeballs out and play skelly with it or nothing, are you?”
She bust out laughing and punched his arm.
“Yeah, boy! Stop playing. These is my real eyes.” She grabbed Noble’s hand and pressed it between her legs and humped him. “This my real pussy too.”
The crotch of her pants was hot and wet, and Noble could feel how swollen her pussy lips were as he rubbed his fingers back and forth across her fat clit.
He had gotten the top button on her pants loose and was just about to slide her zipper down when she clenched his wrist and stopped him.
“There’s one last thing,” she said, looking up at him with those soft, pretty eyes.
Noble sighed and braced himself. What the fuck was it gonna be this time?
To his surprise, she unzipped her pants the rest of the way, then wriggled around sexily as she slid them over her curved hips. Her panties were bright orange and looked stunning against her glorious chocolate tummy and thighs. She had him wanting some sho’nuff Reese’s Pieces.
“Take ’em off, baby,” Noble panted as he grilled her lower body. He cupped his dick through his pants and gave it a nice strong squeeze. “Go head and take ’em off... .”
Glorious took them panties off all right.
And she took her whole ass off right along with them.
“What’s that?” Noble hollered as she stood in the middle of the floor holding her thick, round, gangsta booty in both hands.
“It’s a butt pad,” she said simply. “I told you I lost a lot of weight. The booty got a bit jiggly. I wear a pad to round it out.”
Noble bucked inside. This chick had seriously misrepresented. He wasn’t mad, and he damn sure still wanted to get him some, but he was gonna get her ass back.
“All right then,” he said, fumbling with his belt buckle. Since this chick wanted to take fake shit off, they could take some fake shit off !
Noble grilled her dead in the eye. He unzipped his pants and pushed the crotch down under his swollen nuts, and then with a ruthless grin, he reached inside his boxers and unstrapped his fake ... leg!
4
Noble had lost his leg doing what he was born to do. Police work.
The stump of his thigh throbbed angrily as he remembered that shit like it was three minutes ago. And no matter how much he replayed the grisly scene in his mind, the truth was he had gotten ganked. Ambushed. Set up.
Noble was one of the few young cats who was well respected in the police department. He had competed against nine other officers for that prime undercover assignment. But when the contest ultimately came down between Noble and some shiesty-looking street cop looking to earn a rep, Noble had gotten the job.
Operation Green Ice was based outta Brownsville’s Van Dyke Projects, one of the most crime-infested areas of Brooklyn. Noble had inched his way in good with a power playa called Big Bump, and for five months he rolled like a slanger and pulled felonious drug capers with some of the major bosses on the grind.
A critical buy was about to kick off, and everything was going according to plan. The task force was right on the verge of taking down two high level shot-callers when Noble’s shit got flipped.
“Yo, this niggah foul.”
They were standing in the middle of an abandoned auto body shop, and the accusation came outta nowhere. Noble looked up and cursed inside when he saw which capo was bringing it.
It was that niggah Dent. A powerful street broker who worked with a connect out of some projects in East New York. He’d been suspicious of Noble from the gate. And now, with the goods spread out all over the table, the distrust in his hooded eyes was cold and deadly, and aimed straight at Noble Browne.
Dent nudged Bump, the dude who had brought Noble in. Bump stood with an AK-47 slung over his shoulder and another one gripped tight in his fist.
“Yo, I’m telling you, Bump,” Dent spit. “Ya boy stinks, man. Like a sewer rat. Somebody betta check him.”
Noble had cold grilled that niggah. This fool wanted to check him? Wasn’t happening! Noble was wired up like a goddamn telephone pole. Nah, that shit wasn’t happening!
Playing the role, Noble swelled on Dent. His eyes were colder than a winter breeze as he spit, “You might wanna watch your fuckin’ mouth about who you callin’ a rat, son. Now, we can take care a this bizz and distribute this cash, or we can start tearing off some heads.”
Noble pressed his arm close to his side. He was comforted by the feel of his tool digging into his flesh, and the knowledge that there was a team of SWAT cops listening in and ready to blast niggahs out if shit got shaky.
“Either way,” Noble growled at the young connect, who as it turned out, had a damn good nose, “you better watch what you say to me, niggah.”
Dent was unfazed. That niggah just sneered. His lips curled down but his eyes stayed flat.
“You talk a good one ak, and you probably as G’d up as you come across—” Suddenly his tone dropped low and his knuckles tightened around his heat. “But believing a mothafucka’s words ain’t why I’m here today. I survive off wit, instinct, and the feelings in my own fuckin’ gut, and all three of them things is telling me you’s A MOTHAFUCKIN’ COP!”
Noble couldn’t tell who shot him first, but when that hot lead started flying from all directions it wasn’t hard to figure out that he’d been peeped and set up.
Falling back on his training, Noble had pulled his gat and started sparking off rounds too. The sound of gunfire exploding all around him was deafening, and with his cover blown, the SWAT team had moved in with their superior weapons and tactical skills, taking niggahs down hard and fast.
By the time the smoke cleared there were bodies strewn all over the greasy garage floor. Including Noble’s. He’d taken five hot slugs, three of them hitting him in his right leg, shattering bone, arteries, and other small blood vessels.
Them niggahs had blasted him good. His leg was shot out. There was way too much damage for even the most skilled surgeon to repair, and three hours after Noble got to the hospital his right leg was amputated five inches below his hip.
Rehabilitation had been a real bitch, but Noble had taken it on the chin, like he took everything else that life dished off. He worked hard on his physical therapy, and always went above and beyond what the trainers told him to do. It took a minute, but he persevered, and the next thing he knew he was being fitted with a prosthetic leg and was back on his feet.
But a one-legged narc was like a pit bull with no teeth, and to Noble’s disappointment, a couple of weeks later he received a certified letter ordering him into retirement with full pay and benefits, courtesy o
f the NYPD.
But Noble wasn’t going out like that.
While government benefits and free money was always cool, Noble had no need for that little-ass paycheck they were trying to dish off. At the age of twenty-nine he wasn’t nobody’s retiree. He was a cop, and he had paid for that title with his flesh and with his blood. Wasn’t nobody gonna sit him down like some old dog that needed to be put up on the porch.
Even with one leg Noble was still young and fit, his mind was sharp, and his pockets was crazy swole. So he got bizzy. Noble cashed in a couple of departmental favors that was owed to him, and a few weeks later the medical board reversed its decision and came up with a creative plan for his career path.
On paper, Noble would still be a cop and receive all officer pay and allowances. But on a daily, he would be on loan to the Traffic Enforcement Agency, where he’d pull duty as a traffic officer in midtown Manhattan. No, he wasn’t gonna be out there ganking kingpins and bustin’ bad guys no more, but he wasn’t gonna be at the crib chillin’ on the couch neither.
Noble gave it some thought and decided he was cool with it. He would have to give up his gun, but he would get him a whistle. Without further hesitation, he signed the agreement and reported for duty at the TEA.
Noble was back in uniform, and once again life was sweet.
5
“You stupid bitch!” the young chick barked. Eyes blazing, she burst outta the doors of Fine Headz with a plastic smock draped around her shoulders and wrap lotion slicking down her hair.
She snatched the parking ticket that Zsa Zsa had just slid under her wiper blades, then balled it up and threw it in the street.
“I ain’t paying that shit!” the girl spit. “The meter just ran out two minutes ago. All these goddamn criminals running around New York and your dumb ass is out here fuckin’ with me!”
Zsa Zsa Flynt rolled her eyes as the young guttersnipe clanked quarters into the expired parking meter and talked mad smack. Zsa Zsa didn’t care whether the chick picked the ticket up outta the gutter or not. If the fine didn’t get paid on time, the price was just gonna get higher every day. And once the city added on all those penalties and interest and shit, sistah was gonna wish she had just went on and paid the $115 and been done with it.