by Noire
Cooter Jackson, Moonie’s flunky, was standing in the doorway smiling and holding the cordless phone. “D-d-dicey on the phone, Juicy. Sh-sh-she say she sick and can’t come in t-t-today. You wanna tell G, or you w-w-w-want me to tell him?”
I reached back and made sure the robe was covering my shoulders. “You can let him know when he gets here, Cooter. I was just about to go in the back and wait for Jewel to fix my hair.”
I waited until Cooter walked away, then without speaking to Ursula or even looking at her, I wrapped myself in the silk robe and went behind the partition to get dressed. I tried to calm myself down. To bring my ass back to my senses. I didn’t want to get fucked by no woman. Wasn’t even attracted to females that way, and I sure wasn’t gonna let no dyke bitch from Sweden take advantage of my situation and turn me out. When I stepped out from behind the partition I was fully dressed.
“Ursula.” I spoke quietly even though my body was on fire and I could still feel her hands on me. “This G pussy you fucking with, and if he ever finds out you stuck your fingers in it, that vacation you claim you need might just be a permanent one.”
I didn’t wait for her to answer. I ran down the hallway, barely controlling myself long enough to get into the bathroom. I rushed in and locked myself in a stall, then quickly unzipped my pants. I leaned against the door and stuck my fingers into my panties, then bit down on my lip and finished what Ursula had started. I didn’t even feel bad when I was done and my nipples were getting soft again. Wasn’t no need in feeling shame now because I was happy as hell. Dicey had just called and given me my alibi, and I was gonna go to that party tonight and find out exactly how naughty I could get.
It was good to know that I wasn’t the only sister out there who craved orgasms and needed to get sexed on a regular basis. There were a bunch of women in Brooklyn who weren’t hardly shy about their bedroom needs, and it felt good to be around regular horny sisters like me instead of lap-dancing hoes who just did it for the money.
Getting out of the Spot had been real easy. Cooter had given G the message about Dicey being sick, and I made up a lie about her bleeding through her pads and passing huge nasty clots that made G’s black ass turn gray. As soon as I mentioned her period he spazzed out and waved me away. Told me to tell Dicey to stay her ass out of the cut room until she got that shit taken care of. Of course I missed my Saturday night event; watching the men do their thing onstage for Ladies’ Night, but it wasn’t no big thing because I planned to come home with some toys that would put my fingers and my fantasies to shame.
G told Pacho to drive me over to Dicey’s, so of course that’s where he expected him to pick me up from. And there wasn’t a thing wrong with her either. We watched from the window together until Pacho drove off, then Dicey waited ten minutes before calling a Black Pearl cab to come take us all the way downtown to Brooklyn.
“You got some funds, right?” Dicey asked as we sped down FDR Drive. I nodded. The hundred dollars I’d gotten from G was safe inside my purse. Dicey was wearing this leopard-print top and a matching skirt and she really looked nice. She’d dyed her red hair platinum blond, and had stuck about thirty earrings in each ear. At first I wondered if I was dressed right for a Naughty Girls party and worried that I would look out of place because I had on a pair of Donna Karan jeans and a white silk shirt that had cost over a yard, but looked really simple. But when we got there it was all I could do not to laugh. These sisters were hooked up just like the hoes back at the Spot. They were parading around the apartment wearing g-strings and push-up bras, lace teddies and satin thongs.
The apartment belonged to the aunt of one of Rita’s friends named Vickie. Vickie was another programmer who went to Fordham with us, and since her uncle was a truck driver who was out of town on a long run, her auntie let her host in her apartment for the night. There was fried chicken, empanadas, yellow rice, macaroni salad, and a bunch of other stuff spread out on card tables, and even though we were getting our grub on, food damn sure wasn’t our focus. The whole mood was up, up, up. Wasn’t a buster in the crowd. Just a bunch of hot women, young and old, who were feeding their sexual fantasies and weren’t shy about it neither.
Brooklyn naughties sure knew how to throw a party. There were gift bags stuffed with sexy favors, card games where the winners got to choose from a table full of whips, handcuffs, and nipple clamps. And one sister even got up and read from a book of erotica she had written and was trying to get published. I dug down into my gift bag, and when I saw what was in there I felt faint. Anal beads and two butt plugs. Not even. They could have kept that mess. G had cured me of any asshole desires I may have had, and I traded those shits with Dicey for some vanilla-flavored clit cream and a penis ring.
I chilled with some really cool women, naughty girls for days, and just sitting around talking shit and watching them guzzle fruit punch spiked with Bacardi made me feel good. Made me feel young and freaky. This was the type of stuff I should have been doing every weekend. Chilling with girls my age, partying, eating home-cooked food, getting my hair braided and playing cards. The whole scene was live. It reminded me of one of Grandmother’s rent parties, and just seeing how free everybody else was made me realize how tight G was choking me. His habits were stifling my groove. Squeezing all the juice out of Juicy.
By the end of the night I had spent every dime G had given me and had even borrowed twenty dollars from Dicey. We called another taxi, and as Dicey gave the driver her address I sat back clutching my packages. I couldn’t wait to get home and try out my Ben Wa balls. I’d wanted to slip into the bathroom and put them in and enjoy myself all the way back to Harlem, but I made myself chill. There would be plenty of time for that later.
Instead, I sat quietly as Dicey chatted all the way home. When she wasn’t scaring the shit out of me about G’s missing or dead ex-women, I liked listening to Dicey talk. Getting with G meant I had to drop the few friends I used to have, and aside from Brittany and Rita, Dicey was the only woman in my life. She was street-down and she had a knack for saying stuff that lifted me up and made me wanna be my own person. I felt she was dropping knowledge bombs on me and I did my best to get right up under them so I could get hit.
Of course, tonight the conversation was all about sex. Dicey was telling me that it was natural for me to want more than G was giving me in bed.
“Look, Juicy,” she said. “You too young to be so frustrated. If you had some balls them shits would be blue and backed all the hell up. Don’t let nobody deprive you of what God gave you to enjoy. You just gotta be real careful ’cause you fuckin with a maniac, and that’s the goddamn truth. Dig,” she said, “I probably fucked over two thousand men when I was out there hoeing. They tell you a ho ain’t supposed to get off when she getting fucked by no trick, right?”
I nodded. I’d always heard that hoes got run up in so often that they couldn’t even feel a dick when it was inside them. It had something to do with the high mileage.
“Well, don’t you believe that shit. I made sure I got my nuts one for one.”
“One for one?”
“Damn straight. Every time a trick busted him one, I busted me one too!”
We laughed until tears were coming out of our eyes, and by the time we pulled up outside of Dicey’s apartment it was after two A.M.
“You gonna stay the night?” she asked.
I shook my head. I had never stayed out all night on G before, and he was sure to get suspicious if I tried to start tonight. Besides, my night wasn’t over yet. I had a whole lot of activities planned. I called Pacho on his cell phone and told him I was ready to go home, then I sat outside on the stoop shooting the shit with Dicey until my limo rolled up.
I had Pacho bypass the Spot and take me straight back to the apartment. When I got inside I was mad because Jimmy wasn’t home yet and I couldn’t think of anything happening in the streets that he needed to be involved in at this time of night. I promised myself that I would slap him upside his head as soon as h
e showed up, but I didn’t want to let my anger spoil the vibes I was still feeling and ruin the plans I had for the rest of the night.
I was so excited I had to make myself slow down. G wouldn’t be home until the sun came up, so I brushed my teeth then took a hot bath in some creamy oils made from milk and honey. I’d brought the Naughty Girls’ bag into the mirrored bathroom with me, and the whole time I was in the tub I kept glancing at it and licking my lips like there were a tribe of fine black men waiting to jump out those boxes and jump my bones.
With my skin still damp, I rubbed myself down with the same brand of milk-and-honey-scented lotion I’d bathed in until my body was glistening and every one of my nerves was tingling. I had to force my fingers to stay away from my nipples because they were stiff and aching to be rubbed and squeezed.
I wrapped one of those fifty-dollar towels that G had bought around me, then carried the bag into the bedroom and sat it next to the bed. I was like a kid at Christmas. I couldn’t wait no longer. I took out the smallest box, the one with the Ben Wa balls, and opened it. I held the two shiny silver balls in the palm of my hand for a hot second, then I quickly opened my legs and slipped them into my coochie.
I didn’t have an instant orgasm like I was expecting, but the more I moved around, the more they moved inside of me. I got up and walked around the room butt naked, watching myself in the mirrors and enjoying the feel of the metal as the balls clicked against each other and made my pussy wet.
Next out the bag was the vibrating eggs with the remotecontrolled power pack. They were even better than the Ben Wa balls, but as good as they made me feel, I was worried about what kind of radiation and whatnot that battery pack might be shooting up inside of me so I took them out and put them away.
I decided to try the Fukuoku, which were three lady fingers made out of a soft blue material. Laying back on the round bed, I looked up into the mirrors and watched my fingers move as the tips of the Fukuoku vibrated. I pushed two fingers inside me and ran my thumb back and forth over my clitoris, moaning out loud the whole time. It was a much better experience than using my fingers alone. My pussy got so hot!
I experimented with everything. There was Millie the inflatable mouse; Dong, a ten-inch dildo with a clit stimulator; and an eight-inch thruster with a suction cup. Instead of riding the thruster, I pushed it into me and held it steady with both hands as the head vibrated and the hinges moved it in and out. By the time I’d gone through my whole bag of tricks I had come so many times that I was whipped. Exhausted and too tired to get up and wash my ass, I rolled over onto my stomach, pulled the comforter over my legs, and fell asleep.
When I opened my eyes again the sun was peeking into the room and I heard somebody moving around in the kitchen down the hall. Not sure if it was G or Jimmy, I jumped up and grabbed the shopping bag and searched for someplace to hide it. The footsteps were coming closer now and I knew I didn’t have much time. I ran across the room and pulled the leather chaise lounge away from the wall and stuck the bag behind it. Then I ran back to the other side of the room, snatched my robe from the closet, and managed to get one arm in the sleeve and pull back the covers, then dive into the bed before the door was flung open.
I lay there playing possum like a mother. Doing my best to control my breathing so G would think I was asleep. I heard him lock the door to our suite, and then I felt him standing over me, just staring. All kinds of shit was running through my mind. G forbid me to sleep naked, especially without no drawers, and I would have to come up with an excuse as to why my ass was hanging out all over his bed. He was probably wondering what time I’d come home, and then I remembered. He’d told me that when I left Dicey’s I was to either come on back to the Spot, or call him on his cell phone when I got back to the apartment.
In trying to get my freak on I had forgotten all about it, and I knew that even a small thing like this was enough to make G suspicious and jealous. I knew he was mad, and I thanked God that Pacho could vouch for me. He could verify that he picked me up from Dicey’s and brought me straight back to the crib.
G was still standing over me. I dared not open my eyes, or even let them shits flutter, but neither did I have to. I could feel him twirling his ring. Probing at me, taking everything in and examining it like a spy, and when I heard him turn and walk away, I wanted to jump up and praise the Lord.
Instead, I cracked one eye open just a peep, and watched as G headed out of the room, but then he turned around and I thought sure he was looking straight into my face.
But he wasn’t. He was looking at something on the nightstand, and I almost shit on myself when I saw it. The box from the Ben Wa balls. It was sitting right there in the open. I closed my eyes again as G came back over to the bed. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit was flying through my mind as I heard him pick up the box, and I knew he was trying to figure out what had been in it.
My heart was thudding and my body broke out in a cold sweat. G walked away again, but not toward the door. Peeping through slits, I watched as he opened dresser drawers, searched through the highboy, and even looked under the bed. He’d gone through the closet and had started searching my purse when he decided to check out the Ben Wa box one more time. I had no idea what he was thinking, but when he walked over to the chaise lounge I felt all the blood rush to my head and I was so scared I felt like I was gonna pass out.
I was fully expecting G to find my sex stash and then strangle me with a vibrator cord, but what he did next made me frown and put my brain on alert. G reached up and took a whole mirrored panel down from the wall. Just like that, he lifted it away and sat it down on the dresser. Built into the wall was a metal box with a turning dial. G looked at me just once over his shoulder, and satisfied that I was asleep, he turned his back and spun the dial. I opened my right eye real wide. 32-6-14-41. Hot damn. We were in there.
Chapter Eight
I couldn’t tell whether G had put something in the safe or taken something out, but I’d been watching him and hadn’t seen him holding anything in his hands. I lay there faking sleep like a pro. I even threw a snore and a fart up in there for good effect, and so far it was working.
32-6-14-41, I repeated the numbers over and over in my head, but there was really no need. Like flies on shit, them numbers weren’t going anywhere. There was no doubt in my mind that one day I was gonna get in that safe and see what G had hidden there. I knew he had all kinds of bank, but where he kept it, I sure didn’t know. I figured he had it stashed in a bank somewhere, all that money just sitting there drawing interest and making more money.
G had just closed the safe and replaced the mirrored tile when I exhaled. He was probably checking the room looking for some business papers or something he’d misplaced, I told myself. That’s all. I was damn grateful that it hadn’t been me who had gotten his radar up. But then he moved over to me again and I felt him staring down at me with I don’t know what in his eyes.
“Juicy,” he growled.
I didn’t answer. I was playing possum, remember?
“Wake your ass up, girl.”
I rolled over and stretched, then pretended to snuggle into the pillows and go back to sleep. G pulled the comforter clean off of me and I could feel the whole left side of my body exposed to him.
“Get up, Juicy.”
Something in his voice prompted me to move. I opened my eyes and tried to play innocent. “Huh? What’s wrong, G? What’s going on?”
“What did I tell you to do last night?”
I gave him a confused look. “You told me to go tell Dicey not to come back to work until she stopped bleeding.”
“What was you supposed to do when you left there?”
I snapped my fingers and sat up. I pushed my hair away from my face and yawned. “Damn, baby. I’m sorry. I know I was supposed to call you when I got in, but Dicey was so sick that I ended up cleaning her house and cooking for her, too. I was so tired when I got back that I took off my clothes and fell straight to sleep.”
“Is that right?” His eyes said he doubted me.
“Yes. I’m sorry, G. Next time I’ll remember.”
“Where your drawers at, Juicy?”
I stared at him. “In the bathroom. In the dirty clothes. Why?”
He didn’t answer. “Open your legs,” he commanded.
I was scared, but I didn’t know what for.
“W-w-why you want me to—”
His hand was around my throat before I even saw him move.
“You questioning me, Juicy?”
It was all I could do to squeak out the word no. When he let me go I spread my legs and brought my heels up.
G kneeled on the bed between my thighs. Then he did something that really fucked me up. He lowered his face down between my legs just like he was gonna lick my pussy, but instead, he spread my lips apart and I heard him sniff deeply as he took a good long whiff of my stuff.
I just knew I smelled like sex. I’d stroked and poked myself to multiple orgasms and had fallen asleep without washing. But, I reasoned, I could only smell like me. I mean it’s not like I had no real dick inside of me. Nothing to mix with my stuff and make me smell like a night’s worth of real fucking.
G got up and I couldn’t read his face. “Go get them panties you had on last night.”
I jumped from the bed and scurried into the bathroom and came back holding my champagne lace thong in my hand. G took the thong and looked all in it, then did the same thing he’d done to my crotch. He sniffed those panties like he was a bloodhound, and I prayed that he didn’t smell anything that even almost made him think I’d been with a man.
I was standing there with one arm in my robe and one arm still hanging out. G handed me back my panties and started loosening his belt and unbuttoning his shirt like he was ready to hit the bed. I had just turned to walk into the bathroom to put the panties back in the hamper when he hit me from behind.