by Noire
“What the hell you staring at frog-face?” she demanded. Salida knew she looked damn good and she knew Ace couldn’t resist her no matter how much she demeaned him.
“You wanna stare at something? Come over here,” she ordered as she sashayed her cute fanny over to G’s desk. Without hesitating she swept her arm over the surface and sent everything on the desk flying to the floor.
With a look of pure disdain in her pretty eyes, Salida climbed her lithe body on top of the desk and struck a pose on her hands and knees. Her tooted-up starfish puckered and her juicy slit glistened with creamy need. “Bring them googly eyes over here and stare up my ass,” she told him as she glared over her shoulder. She sneered at the horny look of adoration on Ace’s face as he walked up on her and tried to cover the bulge in his crotch behind his cupped hands.
“Sssss . . .” Salida hissed and sucked air between her clenched teeth as Ace got up on her and parted her swollen pussy lips with his thumbs and tantalized her clit with his tongue. “Yeah, you muskrat-lookin’ imp, you! Lick my stuff out. Lick it nice and soft, just like that.”
Ace didn’t care what kinda names Salida called him. She coulda called his dear mama a string of dirty-ass hoes for all he cared. The only thing he was concerned about was sucking out that na-na and making his baby feel good. He stiffened his meaty tongue and curled it inward like a flute. Teasing her asshole with his finger, he inserted his warm tongue deeply inside her pussy, marveling at the way her inner muscles locked down on him and squeezed deliciously as he mouth-pumped in and out of her.
Salida’s fleshy ass jiggled and turned him on even more. Ace palmed both her cheeks and squeezed and kneaded the thickness of her booty as he continued his oral fuck-fest. Withdrawing his tongue from her dripping cave, he extended it and gave her a big long lick from her public mound all the way back to her asshole. Salida jerked and moaned at the sudden sensation of his warm tongue bath, and Ace repeated his long, slow pussy-to-ass licks as her back arched in pleasure and her body trembled exquisitely.
“Oh-oh-oh!” Salida cried out in ecstasy. Reaching around her hip, Ace briefly massaged her clitoris, then inserted his middle finger deep into her honey pot and pumped it. Moments later he felt her inner walls begin to spasm, and he withdrew his dripping finger and reached for her firm breast. Biting gently on the fleshy piece of meat right next to Salida’s asshole, Ace cupped her titty and rubbed her wetness all over her erect nipple, causing sticky sparks of pure electricity to shoot through her body.
Sliding his mouth over just a bit, Ace licked her hole, pinching her nipples as he gently tossed her salad, and the moment he felt her body stiffen with intense pleasure, he pressed his palm down on her lower back and thrust his entire tongue up her ass.
Salida screamed in delight as an orgasm tore through her body and caused her to buck back at him with short, hard thrusts. Ace’s tongue was a real muthafucka, but she needed something stiff and thick to put out the fire that was burning inside her pussy. She jerked her ass to the side as he tried to stick his finger up in her twat again.
“Dick!” she screeched madly. “Come on, you dog-faced mothafucka! Fuck me with your dick!”
Ace fumbled with his pants and extracted his monster dick. The head was so swollen it looked like it was about to bust, and a long string of pre-cum dripped from the tip.
Gripping it with his left hand, he guided his chocolate iron toward Salida’s waiting pussy, and just as the head touched her hole, he hauled off and slapped her ass-cheek hard enough to make her scream.
“Agghh!” Salida threw her head back and yelped in surprise. Ace had never put his hands on her with nothing but a tender touch. Thrusting his meat deeply inside her, he slapped that ass again, and Salida felt lightheaded from the explosion ignited in her burning flesh and steam-rolled through her dripping pussy.
“Slap me again, mothafucka!” she demanded as Ace held her by the hip and monster-fucked her so deep she got disorientated. She was having multiple orgasms. One would barely subside before another one popped off inside of her again.
Behind her, Ace was almost in tears. Salida was a prime bitch, and this was the best piece of ass he had ever had in his life. He grunted as he pounded his meat between her sucking pussy lips, loving the way her asshole looked as it clenched and puckered with each stroke. Leaning forward, he slobbered on the smooth skin of her back, then licked it up as he cupped her grapefruit-sized titties and rubbed her nipples between his fingers.
He felt her body stiffen and suddenly her pussy clamped down on him and held him in a vice grip. Ace whimpered as his dick seemed to get harder and swell up to twice its normal size, and when Salida screamed and collapsed face-down on the desk of her dead ex-husband, Ace gripped her ass, gave her two more hard, fast pumps, then busted a whole grove of walnuts up inside of her and collapsed down on top of her.
Ace knew he had laid some demon pipe on Salida and fucked her so good she had shot a gallon of cream outta her pussy. But if he thought all that good dick-action had earned him a moment of tenderness from his boss-boo, his ass was sadly mistaken.
“Get your heavy tail up offa me,” Salida barked just moments later. Both of their bodies were covered in sweat and Ace was still trying to catch his breath. He let go of her and straightened up on his feet as his softening dick slid outta her pussy with a loud slurping sound.
His dick was still at half-mast as he stood there with the scent of her twat on his lips and her tangy juices coating his skin.
Salida eased herself down from the desk, and then walked naked over to the armoire. It was back-to-bizzness time and she looked down at the wet skirt suit that she had recently pulled off and discarded, then kicked it in Ace’s direction and snapped, “Get rid of this stankin’ shit. Toss them damn soggy-ass shoes I had on somewhere too. And when you’re finished,” she ordered, smoothing her hair and checking her fine self out in the mirror, “send somebody back downstairs to get Nooni high, and then I want you to go down there and kick the shit outta her ass again.”
CHAPTER 3
I stayed up at that hospital praying over Rita practically 24/7.
The cops claimed they had searched the G-Spot and Nooni was nowhere to be found, and Chub was being held somewhere by child protective services. The homicide detectives were acting all clueless and they told me and Dutchy there were no leads pointing toward the identity of the gunmen who had pulled this bloody caper.
“Fuck the cops,” Dutchy kept saying over and over. “This is me right here! Lemme find out who did this shit, man. Just lemme find out. The streets are gonna start talking in a minute and somebody is gonna get X’d the fuck out,” he swore one night as he stared down at Rita’s battered face with tears in his eyes. “That’s word to my mother. The muh’fuckin’ streets are definitely gonna talk.”
I was scared as hell behind all this. I didn’t know whether Rita getting shot was just a random act of violence, or whether it had something to do with all the people who were out there gunning for me. I got even scareder one day when I was sitting in the waiting room and Chiney called to tell me a big bouquet of sympathy flowers had been delivered to the crib. She said the card was made out to me, and it wished Rita a speedy recovery.
“Who is it from?” I had asked her, suspicion jumping all up in my throat.
Chiney didn’t answer for a second, and then she said, “You ain’t gonna believe it, but this shit is signed, “Love, Flex.”
My heart pounded. That little buck-toothed fool had a lot of nerve sending me some damn flowers to Trey’s house. Yeah, him and Rita was cool and she was the one who had arranged for me to stay with him when I first got outta jail, but he didn’t really give a damn about her getting shot. Flex didn’t care about nobody but himself. Rita had thought she was protecting me from the G-Spot crew by sending me to hide with him, but she just didn’t know how twisted that niggah was. But I sure as hell did, and I wasn’t about to give him the kind of attention I knew he was trying to get.
&nbs
p; “Is your brother home?” I asked Chiney. “Is Trey there?”
“Nah. He’s at the Crossover Center.”
“Good,” I said. “Take the whole bouquet outside and throw it in the curbside trash. Get rid of that shit, Chiney. Just dump it.”
I had gone back to Rita’s bedside clenching my jaw and making worry lines pop up all over my face. Even though the nurses only let me sit in Rita’s room for about thirty minutes at a time, I tried to be there for her the way my Italian friend Renata had been there for me when I got shot. Rita was still in a coma, but I still talked to her like she could hear me, mostly telling her not to worry and that everything was gonna be okay.
And Dutchy was a dedicated soldier for her too. He took a week off from work right after it happened, and when he went back he still came up to the hospital every day on his lunch hour, and then he came right back to see her again as soon as he got off work at night.
Trey hung out at the hospital with me sometimes too, and I appreciated all the concern he was showing for me and for Rita, especially with all the other stuff he was juggling on his plate. Trey was a real active businessman and he stayed on the run all the time working on projects that benefited the community of Harlem. His Crossover Center was scheduled to host its first annual D.I.V.A. Day soon, so Trey was busy running back and forth taking care of all those last minute arrangements that would assure its success. Still, he swung by the hospital every day so I could give him an update on Rita’s condition, and he always found time to sit and keep me company for a little while.
Our relationship had definitely gotten closer since all this had happened, although I kept telling myself not to read anything into it. Before Rita got shot it seemed like Trey was forever either avoiding me or fronting me off, and he wouldn’t even say two damn words to me in a row unless he had to. But it seemed like he had a lot more conversation for me now. He had more patience, and definitely more compassion in his eyes for me too.
I hadn’t forgot about the way he had held me real close in his arms and softly kissed my neck when he broke the bad news to me, but I didn’t dwell on that shit neither. People did all kinds of shit and acted outta themselves when a tragedy jumped on them. I knew Trey had just been trying to soften the blow for me, and that little kiss hadn’t really meant nothing to him. He had plenty of women in his life, and I didn’t wanna read too much into his actions and twist our friendship into something it would probably never be.
But I was real grateful for his concern right now, and I was happy when Chiney came up to the hospital later that day too. She had brought me a couple of cute outfits that her girl Venus had boosted, and even though I was liked what she brought, I was worried too because every time I saw Chiney with Venus they were both high as hell. Trey had already told her she better not bring Venus back up in his crib no more, but that didn’t stop Chiney from hooking up with the girl on the streets. I stared at her real close and there was no way for her to hide the fact that she was flying high.
“You better slow down on that shit you smoking. I know you not sneaking no chicks in the house and getting lifted are you?” I asked with a warning in my voice. “You know how your brother is.”
Chiney grinned. “Nah, I’m straight. I don’t be smoking no shit in the crib, man.”
I gave her a be-for-real look. I knew Chiney was lying, but what could I say? I didn’t like what was going down with her, but I didn’t know what to do about it neither. I wasn’t about to bust on her to Trey though. Chiney was my girl and she always looked out for me. I just hoped one day I could find a way to look out for her too.
“Yo, you hungry? Did you eat anything today? You want me to go get you a hero or some Chinese food or something?” she asked.
All I could do was smile at her. Chiney was such a giver. She was always trying to do something for somebody else. I thought about that time when we were locked up on Rikers Island and that stud freak named Psycho had come at me in the shower. That grisly bitch had laughed in my face, and then pinned me down to the shower floor and tried to get all up in my coochie.
Chiney had come to my rescue outta nowhere and saved me from that humping-ass hood bitch. I was grateful to have a chick like Chiney down on my team, but I shook my head no on the food request. The truth was, I really didn’t have much of an appetite because my nerves were all fucked up. It was bad enough that Rita was all laid up the way she was, but Chub and Nooni stayed on my mind too.
The day after Rita got shot I had called around to find out where lil Chub was and how she was doing. I pretended like I was Rita’s sister from Puerto Rico and I spoke to a white lady who told me that Chub was still in state custody and receiving around the clock protection. She said she couldn’t give me any additional information, but hell, she didn’t have to. After witnessing a straight-up bloodbath, the murder of her two little friends, and being taken away from her sister and stashed with strangers, it wasn’t hard to figure out what kind of hell poor little Chub was going through.
And going through hell went for Nooni too. Trey and Dutchy both had put some feelers out on the streets trying to find her, but nobody had seen the girl, and when the cops went to the G-Spot looking for her they didn’t find her there neither. In a nutshell, the shady po-po in Harlem still had Nooni listed as a runaway teenager, and when I tried to tell them that Nooni had gone back home to Rita’s apartment and then disappeared all over again when the bullets started flying, they told me I didn’t have no proof that she was ever there, and then they acted like they didn’t give a good goddamn.
The one bright spot that I could see in all this was that even though Rita still had a bullet lodged in her head and she was in a coma, her doctors said she was holding her own. I wasn’t surprised because I knew my girl was a warrior and I knew how bad she wanted to live. Even though she was unconscious I could see the fight she had in her, and how hard she was struggling to stay here in this world. I had Rita’s back to the max, and I pulled for her every day as I talked to God and whispered a bunch of scriptures and prayers that Grandmother used to say back in the day.
A day or so later while the doctors and nurses were examining Rita, I went down to the waiting room to watch television and in walked long-legged Mister Trey.
I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he moved toward me in a smooth, unhurried pace. This dude had some shit about him that was just uh-uh-fuckin’-uh. He was so damn tall and so fuckin’ beastly with his flow that he made every other dude in the room look tired and weak. I can’t lie, I started sweating and my coochie lips spread wide open like a blooming flower.
All kinds of heads turned as Trey approached. Females, young and old, couldn’t help but be impressed because his shit was truly well put together. He was tall, and the way he dressed was real casual but sharp and stylish, and his locks looked like hand-spun black velvet. His cologne was expensive but mild, and my heart banged in my chest as he sat down next to me and we just started kicking it.
The waiting room was overflowing with poor Black and Hispanic people, and every last one of them were there because somebody in their family had either gotten shot up or stabbed up, or run over by a car, or maybe they had a heart attack or some other sickness that had brought them to death’s door. People were yakking away in English and in Spanish, but somehow the only voices I could hear were mine and Trey’s.
At first we talked a little bit about Rita, and then about Chub, and then we just started vibing about shit that went on in everyday life. It seemed like all the good stuff I had ever thought about him was right on point, and I wasn’t surprised that his convo got deep and passionate when he talked about drugs, guns, gangs, and all the other madness in the streets that had led us to the point that we were at today.
And yeah, papi was fine as hell, but even more important I liked the way this dude’s mind worked. I could tell Trey was a thinker and a strategist. I had figured that out right off the bat just by the way he had organized his profitable Talented Ten click in Harlem.
He wasn’t the type of dude who just ran off randomly at the mouth neither. Everything that flowed from his lips seemed like he had considered it real careful first. Chiney had told me that he used to be a high-post lawyer and he had worked in the stock market too, which was where he had made all the money that he now invested back into the community.
After a while we gave up our seats to two old black women who had come in, and we walked down the hall to get something from the vending machines. I got a cup of hot chocolate and Trey got a cold bottle of water.
“You know, Harlem is my shit, Juicy,” he said as we took our time walking back to the waiting room. I love this hospital ’cause I was born here, but I hate this place too because it symbolizes sickness and death, nah’m sayin?”
I looked at him and nodded. Harlem Hospital was a big part of the community. Me and Grandmother had sat up in this place with my brother Jimmy on many, many days. That boy had stayed getting hurt. If he wasn’t busting his head open or damn-near cutting off one of his fingers, then he was being mentally evaluated because of that crazy bug that lived in his head and kept him acting off the wall. I used to beg Jimmy to stop talking idiotic shit and act right because I was scared the doctors would cart his ass off to the psych ward at Bellevue where our father was locked up at.
“You had a lot of sick family come through here or something?” I asked Trey as we walked back inside the crowded waiting room. The intensive care unit was on jam, and people were steady coming and going.
“Yeah,” he nodded as he held the door open and let me go in first. “Family and friends too. Actually,” he said offhandedly, “I got knocked from here. Matter fact, they slapped the cuffs on me right here in this room.”