by Noire
Somehow we ended up on the couch.
For somebody whose woman thang was supposed to be dead, my poor panties were soaking wet. It was shameless the way I threw one leg over the back of the sofa and invited him in. Trey lowered himself on top of me, his tongue never leaving my mouth.
He grinded into me, his hardness trying to penetrate me through my jeans. I threw my pussy up at him. We were humping like two kids trying to sneak a nut on the back staircase in school. Trey took off his shirt, then pulled my blouse up. My breasts jumped free from my bra like two wild beasts. My nipples pointed at the ceiling, and I practically screamed as he cupped them and brought his soft lips down to cover them.
I was in Heaven as he licked and nibbled and sucked all over me. I was alive! I was alive! It had been so long since I’d allowed myself to feel any type of sexual stimulation from a man that I was like a virgin, experiencing pleasure for the very first time.
I reached down between us and felt for his dick. Dude was a piper! I almost screamed when I felt the long, thick imprint standing out prominently from his body. Trey held himself up with his arms, hovering over me as I undid his belt and yanked at his zipper. When his pants were open he lowered himself down on me again and we kissed and moaned into each other’s mouths.
We were panting and sweating. Fucking through our clothes, and I wanted to be closer to him. I reached between us again and started fumbling with my top button. Trey moved my hand aside and opened my pants and pulled them down just below my hips. I arched my back and shuddered as I felt his big dick stroking between my pussy lips, with just our underwear as a thin, moist barrier between us. I knew he was gonna split my pussy wide open when he finally got up in me, and just imagining how good he was gonna pound my guts and mash me out had me about to cream. I couldn’t even wait to get my panties down. An intense storm of bliss had started barreling through my groin and pushing its way out of my dripping tunnel, and I was just about to tip over the edge of steaming hot pleasure when Trey’s cell phone started bleeping in a very strange pattern.
He pushed himself up on his forearms and listened.
“That’s a 911 call,” he muttered under his breath. He leaned over to get it from the table and I clung to him, damn near dragging him back down on top of me. I threw my pussy up at him again, my body desperate to cum, and even with the phone bleeping in his hand, his hips started grinding and working me over once more.
The bottom halves of our bodies were glued together and moving to a serious fuck-beat as Trey pushed the talk button and pressed the phone to his ear.
First his hips stopped moving. And then I watched his whole face change. By the time his short conversation was over that bucket of ice water I said would be the only thing that could separate us came splashing down on both of our heads.
Trey pushed himself off of me and stood up. His chest was still heaving and his dick was about to explode through his drawers like a mothafucka, but there was nothing but frozen rage in his eyes.
“What happened?” I whispered. The first thing that came to my mind was that something bad had gone down with Chiney, but then I realized I was way off when Trey finally answered me.
“That was my boy, Rain,” Trey said quietly. “Somebody found little Taleah on the staircase in her building and took her to the emergency room.”
“What?” I shrieked and sat straight up. My eyes darted back and forth as I searched his face for the answers to the questions that rolled off my lips. “What happened to her? Is she okay?”
He shook his head. “She’s in intensive care. She took a beat-down and got all her front teeth knocked out. Somebody musta given her some dope too, because she OD’d in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.”
“Nooo,” I moaned as I sat up and clutched Trey around the waist trying to comfort him. I pressed my face to his belly and squeezed him tight. Just a few hours ago that beautiful little girl had been up on a stage rapping about her self-worth and having the time of her life. And now she was in the hospital fighting for her life!
“And that ain’t all,” Trey said coldly as he pulled away from me and started zipping up his pants. “Rain said Taleah can’t talk and tell nobody who did that shit to her, but she did write a name down on a piece of paper.”
“She did?” I asked, as I stuffed my titties back inside my bra and started fixing my clothes too. “Well if she knows who the dude was then the cops can go get him and lock his ass up! Well what did she write? Who did that shit to her?”
To my surprise I saw a single tear forming in the corner of Trey’s eye. And then he opened his mouth and said the last word I had expected to come out of his mouth.
He said, “Maleek.”
CHAPTER 13
There were several jiggle joints that Slick Sallie coulda found his pleasure in that night, but the part of him that was Irish had always been drawn to danger. He chose a nightclub that had once been known as the grandest in all of New York City. The cover charge had been a grand a head, and the owner of the club had attracted such high-profile, crucial, and iconic celebrity clientele that his spot used to be busting at the seams as he turned away droves of customers at the door each night.
Sallie knew he coulda picked up another piece of trim right off the track if he’d wanted to, but the prominent bite mark standing out on his forehead was a stark reminder of how dangerous and unpredictable street girls in Harlem could be.
Besides, Sallie was done picking up hoes like Karisma. Tonight he was going to a place where he knew he could find the kind of woman he craved and they could do their thing without a whole lot of drama. And he was also going to the one place in the world that he knew Juicy Stanfield was guaranteed not to be.
Slick Sallie was going to the G-Spot.
$$$$$
“Make that money-money! Make that money-money! Make that muthafuckin’ money-money, honey!”
The heat was spiked up sky-high at the G-Spot Social Club and Monique was stripping mad.
Kiss my ass, perverts! Lick my twat, assholes!
Mo-Mo had an attitude as she performed for the crowd of drunk, horny men. Yeah, these fools were tossing mad green doe on the stage and making it rain all over her head, but these bastards still wasn’t appreciating her shit the way they shoulda been!
She frowned out into the crowd as them hard-dicked mothafuckas got off on the scent of her pussy as it blew through the air. It was an all-out freak-fest up in that joint as she turned her back on them and made her thick booty cheeks jiggle wickedly, clenching and flexing one well-defined hump at a time.
Those niggahs loved it!
“Mo-Mo! Mo-Mo! Mo-Mo!”
They screamed out her name as she worked her hips and performed her nasty dance under the filtered spotlight, bucking and gyrating like a glistening silver pole was about to come sliding outta her twat.
“That’s birthday cake!” A hustler with a row of gold fronts screeched as he stared mesmerized at her stunning bottom half. Monique knew she looked crucial as hell up on that stage. She completely understood why every niggah in the joint wanted to fuck her lights out.
But what she couldn’t understand was why three magnificent titties and an extra-large hunk of tail is all they saw when they looked at her? Yeah, every last one of them were ballin’ and would toss down good money to spend a few hours knocking her back out. But didn’t these niggahs know she had a heart too? A soul? Didn’t these fools understand that she was a woman who wanted her a paid-out-the ass, halfway-decent man?
Twisting up her lips, Monique squeezed her firm knockers in her hands and raked her nails back and forth across her inch-long nipples. Ducking her chin to her chest, she did the same old tired shit that never failed to get the club jumping. She extended her tongue and gave the tiny third nipple in the center of her chest a nice long lick.
Niggahs wilded out! Everybody loved a freak!
But a freak wasn’t all Monique wanted to be. She’d had her sights set on becoming a real classy business
woman, an icon of fashion and style, the kind of bad-ass bitch who dressed in silk and expensive jewels and ran corporate shit from top to bottom.
All this gutter action has to go, Mo thought as she dipped her chips and gyrated her hips down to the floor. She wasn’t never gonna get more than a stiff dick doing this type of freaky shit. She stretched out seductively on the stage and lifted her shapely, and perfectly proportioned legs high in the air.
The noise in the room amplified, and Monique frowned up her face, disgusted by the unseen wads of cum she knew niggahs was about to start shooting off in their drawers. She arched her back up real high until only her shoulders and her thick mound of ass were touching the ground. She clenched her stomach muscles and rotated her hips in tight, suggestive circles as she pretended to be fucking an imaginary lover.
Closing her eyes, she shivered as multiple C-notes fluttered down and stuck to her moist skin. The lover of Monique’s fantasy pressed his pelvis down on top of hers, and she threw her pussy at him like she was a wild animal going for broke during mating season.
The crowd was now at the height of excitement, and Monique spun around quickly and gapped her stunning legs open wide. Licking her index finger, she gazed out at the men with a blank expression on her face, and then she thrust her finger deeply inside her twat and began masturbating her wet pussy in deep wet strokes.
Normally, she would be getting to the part she loved best right about now, but not tonight. Yeah, all three of her nipples got hard and her pussy began to simmer and leak, but in reality Monique wasn’t feeling a damn thing except disappointment and disgust. She wanted out of the strip club scene. Out of the G-Spot. She wanted the high-post glamorous life that had been promised to her right before G went and died and fucked up all her dreams.
Using both of her hands, she spread her lower lips wide and gave every man in the house a bird’s eye view of her pink inner walls, silently inviting each of them to examine her uterus.
Dudes stared and drooled, anxious to see what she had for them next, and Monique knew if she wanted that doe to keep raining down on the stage, then she better not disappoint them. She had tons of routines to choose from, and she lay back on the stage floor with her heels up near her butt like she was about to deliver a baby. Slowly, she let her curvy thighs fall open wide as she rubbed her clit and prepared to fuck the hell outta her middle three fingers.
Going through the motions of her deep na-na act, Mo slid one finger up inside herself first, and then gradually she thrust all three in all together. Dudes screeched and stood up on tables as she gripped one of her massive breasts and then reached down and licked her lil titty again. This was usually enough to get her nut to rising, but the sparks that normally ignited in her sensitive little mini-breast failed to catch fire and Monique had to fake her way through the rest of her set.
And that’s exactly what she did, too. The way her hips heaved and shuddered, and all the moans that spilled from her mouth and the puddles of sweet cum that leaked on the floor, not a single dude in the crowd could tell she wasn’t up there having the orgasm of her life for real.
But by the time it was over, instead of feeling powerful and triumphant the way she usually did, Monique felt surprisingly humiliated and thoroughly unappreciated.
Y’all dumb-ass niggahs don’t know nothin’ about a mothafuckin’ woman! she cried inside as she ended the show by rubbing her glistening pussy juices around in the crack of her ass. Nothin’ goddammit! Y’all don’t know nothin!
The room exploded in applause as a bunch of satisfied customers wiped sweat from their brows and adjusted their dicks in their pants.
Selfish bastards! Mo-Mo mouthed at the crowd as she snatched the money she’d earned off the stage and ran off that bad boy steaming mad. She didn’t wanna be just another hot piece of pussy-for-show no more. She wanted a man who was gonna elevate her status and treat her like a queen.
“Girl, you fuckin’ killed that shit!” her girl Honey Dew grabbed her arm and beamed as Monique stormed angrily through the crowd of bodies. “You about to have a long-ass night cuz these fools done bought up almost all your chips!”
Shit! Monique grimaced, wondering how many stank dicks she was gonna have to suck as she stomped her way back to the dressing room. It was definitely time to look for a new gig. Time to find herself a whole ’nother line of work. She hardened her heart and prepared herself for a long night of misery as she flat-backed for her doe.
Monique glanced toward the back door of the G-Spot and she was real tempted to just walk straight outta that shit. She could clearly see the dead-end sign that loomed large at the end of her road. There wasn’t the slightest chance in hell that she was gonna find the kinda life she wanted up in a joint like this, and even if she got fired she was about to tell every last one of them niggahs who had stood in line and bought her chips, that they could kiss her fuckin’ ass!
$$$$$
Sallie couldn’t stop himself from drooling.
Never had he seen this much ass and attitude in one hot and gorgeous body. He stared at her with his mouth open and a look of utter amazement in his eyes. It was all he could do to stop himself from running up on the stage and begging her to sit on his face. No wonder there were so many big black dudes pulling security around the stage. This girl had something that could be worth billions if somebody found a way to bottle it up and sell it on the stock exchange. Sallie couldn’t help himself. He leaned over toward a guy at the table next to him and asked, “Who was that chick? What’s her name?”
“They call her Money-Making-Monique,” was the man’s response, and Sallie could tell by the thick tone of impressed admiration in the guy’s voice that he had enjoyed the visual stimulation just as much as Sallie did.
The room had been hazy with smoke, but the spotlight had shone down on Money-Making-Monique like she was the only chick in the universe. She’d worn a sexy little pout on her face as she pressed her chin to her chest and extended her tongue. Sallie had shivered in his seat as she licked the stiff little nipple that sat prominently in the middle of her chest.
“This broad has a freakin’ birth defect!” he had whispered out loud in amazement. Well, if you had to be born with something extra, Sallie reasoned, better it be an extra nipple than an extra nose, chin, or eyeball.
Sallie had watched as Monique split her legs in the air like a pair of scissors, then went down to the floor and lifted her legs over her head, then spread them as wide as the ocean. She’d gyrated her hips wildly as her hump of butt bounced and jiggled like it was about to break a hole in the stage floor. All kinds of hoots and hollers had cut the air when she sat up and fingered herself, then parted her lips, took her engorged clit between two fingers, and milked it until a stream of liquid sugar formed a puddle on the floor.
Now that her act was over Sallie found himself covering his crotch and breathing heavily through his mouth. He had never been so turned on in his entire life. There was only one thing left to do, and he knew he had to make his move real quick.
Bolting from his seat, he almost knocked the table over as he rushed across the room to the cashier’s window that was near the bar.
“How do I get the girl I want?” he asked the old man who sat behind the glass handling the money.
“We’re back to selling chips again. They cost two bills and they’re good for fifteen minutes a pop.”
Sallie asked, “How many chips can I buy?”
The old man chuckled. “How much ass can you handle?”
Sallie thought for a moment.
“How much time does that girl Money-Making Monique have left tonight?’
The man punched a few keys into the laptop in front of him and said, “Monique is almost booked, partner. It’s not even midnight yet and she’s down to her last four chips.”
“Only four chips left?” Sallie whined.
“Yep, only four.”
“Cool,” Sallie said, reaching for his wallet. “I’ll take ’em.”
&
nbsp; $$$$$
Look at that soft-ass muh’fucka! Pluto sulked angrily as he lurked in the shadows of the G-Spot. He sat back in a corner, sipping gin and evil-eyeing Ace and Salida as they stood near the bar cutting up like two silly young lovers.
No matter how much alcohol he slugged back Pluto couldn’t stop hearing Monique’s words in his ears as she talked to her sister on the telephone. The words that had revealed to him exactly who was responsible for cold-smoking his fuckin’ nephew Truth.
It had been painful to hear that shit though. Truth was a good soldier and he didn’t deserve to go out the way he did. And to top it off, all this fuckin’ time it had been Ace and Salida who had really set his fam up. Set him up and took him out!
Pluto watched the two of them and fumed. His boy Ace was all up on that old hag tryna smooch his lips on her neck while she laughed and pulled away like his breath stank.
“Niggah so soft he done got fluffy,” Pluto muttered and tossed back another drink. He was getting liquored up and tipsy. But one thing he was not getting was weak and sloppy. Quite the opposite. He felt betrayed, disrespected, and burning fuckin’ mad. Matter fact, he was so mad he had to force himself not to pull out his tool and pop both of them muh’fuckas right there where they stood.
It was a good thing G wasn’t around to see how bad his boy Ace had slipped, Pluto thought, lighting a blunt as he forced his anger to ease back. If the boss had been around that cold-crushin’ niggah woulda slit Ace’s punk-ass throat for letting this shrewd, diabolical bitch kill his street cred and stuff his gangsta deep in a trick bag.
Pluto tapped his foot furiously as he sat back in the cut puffing his blunt and grilling the pair. His bottom lip was turned down in disgust and his mind was clicking and whirling as he thought about what kinda tools he was gonna use to smoke his ace-boon niggah and get some revenge for his nephew. And once that fat-necked niggah was deaded, then Pluto would grab him some of Salida’s loot, and blow this fuckin town. Blow it and never look back.