by Mike Sanders
For all these years I’ve kept my promise to my girl and no one will ever know about that night unless she told them because I intended to take her secret to my grave!
Ever since Sapphire had caught Travis she had been a little down in the dumps. So, I figured a night out at Nine Three Five was just what the doctor ordered to get her mind off of things.
“Look,” said Sapphire while nodding toward the dance floor. “Shabba Ranks still tryin’ to get at you.” She was referring to the guy who had called me a “conceited bitch.”
I turned towards the dance floor and spotted Dreadlocks dancing with a heavyset light-skinned chick. He was staring at me with bloodshot eyes. I held his gaze for a second, then sat my drink on the bar and raised my right hand to my lips. I blew a kiss in his direction while displaying my best fake smile.
Sapphire took a sip of her Mimosa and almost chocked when she saw what I’d just done. She choked back a cough and wiped her lips with a napkin.
“Why the hell you do that? You know he gonna come runnin’ his lil’ happy ass back over here.”
“I want him to catch that and kiss my ass wit’ it. I got his ‘conceited bitch’,” I replied while picking my drink back up and resumed to sip and groove.
“O-Kaaay,” Sapphire teased as we both laughed and raised our hands high for a high-five, then commenced to slap hands in midair.
I looked around the smoke-filled room and saw several big time hustlers. Some I recognized, others were new faces. They were all sipping champagne and trying to holla at anybody who they thought would fall victim to their prowess. My eyes wandered to one of the many pool tables in a far corner of the room where two fine ass brothers were shooting a game. It was obvious to me that they were not ball players because they just had that “street” appeal that made my spine tingle. The jewels they were draped in were shining so brightly I could see the sparkle of different colored stones even from where I was seated. It’s safe to say that they looked very appetizing.
However, I had to check myself because I’d sworn off fucking with hustlers. I absolutely refused to go down that avenue again. I’d had entirely too many close brushes with danger while fucking with those types of men in my past. I must admit though, I definitely enjoyed the benefits I’d reaped from playing my role with them, but the reward was not worth the risk.
Back in the day I had never really understood why most women were always attracted to the niggas who would have rather hugged the streets than hug their woman. That chronicle had always been somewhat a mystery to me until one day I met a street nigga named Carlos who turned my ass out! Had me running behind him and even searching for his ass in broad daylight with a flashlight. Had a bitch sprung.
I had met Carlos at a nightclub downtown in the Adam’s Mark hotel a few years back and it had been on since the day I first laid eyes on him. He was the only man who could handle me and my wild ways. He kept me laced in the latest fashions and I never wanted for anything when I was with him. But I got tired of being so dependent on him and wanted my own shit and he didn’t like that. That’s when the problems started and we ended up going our separate ways. We stayed cool, but it was never like it was in the beginning of our relationship.
Since dealing with Carlos, I had begun to understand why a woman would act that way over those types of niggas. But for the life of me I still couldn’t seem to explain it. Personally, there was just something about a nigga dressed in baggy jeans with a mean swagger and a permanent screw faced expression that made my thong sticky upon first sight. And God forbid if the nigga had a baldhead, I’d have to wring my panties out like a wet dish cloth. Like a fool, I thought I could change a hustler. That is, until I began to see a continuous pattern of those men eventually changing me. Since I’d reformed from getting seriously involved with street niggas I still couldn’t let go of the sex. I absolutely had to have me some of that “thug dick” from time to time.
It’s true what they say about thugs. They’ve got the best dick game! Whoever had coined the phrase “thug love” must have had experienced some of that same “I can’t walk straight ’cause dis nigga done fucked me ’til my pussy was raw” type sex that I’ve endured with a few street niggas, especially with my ex Carlos. Sex between the two of us had always been earth shattering!
Lately I’d been setting my sights higher and I was determined to make my dollars graduate. For instance, all of those ball playing niggas who were in the club tonight were all fair game. A little challenge has never hurt anyone before. Besides, I have always been thirsty for guap, a thirst that will never be quenched.
I finally looked away from the pool table where the hustlers were and fixed my gaze on the dance floor, then over to the second bar area hoping to spot a potential victim. No one caught my eye. I then gazed toward the area where the VIP was located and saw the familiar faces of several well-known athletes who were surrounded by groupies. While observing these tricks, I sucked my teeth and rolled my eyes at those cheap ass hookers who were fucking the game up for “real” bitches such as myself. I knew half of those heifers would fuck for a mere buck and the other half would do something real strange for a little piece of change. They had no idea how to get real money from those niggas. That thought alone had me seething with anger.
Sapphire must have did a CAT scan on my brain and read my thoughts. “Girl, what you over there thinkin’ ’bout?” she asked.
“See that.” I pointed towards the VIP area. “It’s hoes like that who be in the way and blockin’.”
Sapphire turned on her stool in the direction in which I was looking. She teased, “Don’t hate. Participate.”
“Chile pleeze. Them hoes can’t even smell my panties, let alone fuck wit’ my game. I’ll run circles around them square ass bitches.”
I looked at my girl and realized she didn’t have a clue as to how treacherous I was.
I thought, If you only knew.
A little while later, the drinks I had consumed throughout the evening had finally begun to catch up with me. I felt my bladder expand a little. Tiny beads of sweat began forming on my forehead indicating that I was a little tipsy. I reached for a napkin on the bar, dabbed my forehead and decided that now was as good a time as any to make that dreaded trip to the ladies’ room.
“Watch my drink. Gotta tinkle,” I told Sapphire as I grabbed my Chloe handbag from the bar and rose to my feet. As soon as I had stood up I realized I had a better buzz than I’d originally thought. When the lightheadedness finally subsided I headed towards the restroom, which seemed as if it was a mile away. I got stopped by at least six different guys while en route. While fanning my way through the thick clouds of cigarette and cigar smoke I only said “Hi” and kept it moving. It was hard as hell still trying to be cute while I was about to piss on myself.
The bright lights in the bathroom helped me shake a little of my high off. Surprisingly, the bathroom was clean despite so much traffic in and out all night. Even the air didn’t smell half bad inside. I guessed all of the trifling chicks had stayed home this night.
After finally relieving my aching bladder I decided to touch up my lip-gloss and reapply my mascara. While in the mirror minding my business I saw two of the groupies come sauntering in. They were the main two I’d seen hanging all over the ball players in VIP. The two girls, one high yellow and the other pecan tan, were visibly twisted.
The skirts they both wore were so short you could see a hint of ass cheeks hanging out. Apparently they had no shame whatsoever because they began bragging candidly about how they were going to meet up with two of the football players at the Embassy Suites hotel after the club. They even mentioned room numbers. I didn’t know if the two girls were trying to impress me or if they were just that oblivious to my presence. But I managed to keep my game face on and was filing all of that pertinent info away in my mental rolodex.
The groupies were in the middle of discussing stopping by the Waffle House before joining the players at the room when I’d dec
ided I’d heard enough. I was packing up my things and getting ready to leave the restroom when I saw the high yellow chick pour a line of coke onto a compact mirror and they both shared a hit. Afterwards, they engaged in a passionate uninhibited kiss. Other chicks were coming in and out of the restroom and acted as if the two girls’ actions were normal. No one commented, no one stared.
“Dust head, dyke bitches,” I muttered under my breath in disgust as I began to make my exit. My mind was doing cartwheels and somersaults and my mental cash register began cha-chinging like crazy. Only if those girls could have read my thoughts at that instance. My devious mind was working full-throttle!
I left the two groupies in the restroom and headed back to my seat at the bar. I almost managed to make it back without too much harassment from the hardheads. That shit is so annoying. As soon as I made it back to my seat, I saw Sapphire’s trifling ass cousin Joy and one of her girlfriends approaching the bar area near where we were seated. I nudged Sapphire with my elbow and nodded in Joy’s direction so that she could take notice. When Sapphire spotted her cousin, I saw fire jump into her eyes. I was halfway hoping she would take out her earrings and slap some Vaseline on her face old school style and beat that hoe down. But for the moment Sapphire managed to maintain her composure.
Joy sashayed her narrow ass over to where we were seated. The baggy pants suit she was wearing seemed to swallow her small frame. The shoes she had on were so ran down it looked as if she had been running track in them. Her micro braids were frizzy as hell and her eyes held that glossy, ex induced look. Just one glance is all it took for me to tell that she was “rollin’.” Her big-boned girlfriend was right behind her looking twice as jacked up as Joy was.
Joy looked at me and rolled her eyes with one hand on her skinny ass hips and the other clutching a half-empty Heineken bottle. She turned to Sapphire and before she could fix her mouth to speak, Sapphire spat, “If you ain’t comin’ to tell a bitch that your triflin’ ass got the Ebola virus and finna die within the next twenty-four hours I suggest you not open your mouth! ’Cause I don’t feel like hearing shit you gotta say! ’Cause I’m about two seconds off your ass! I really feel like gettin’ all up in yo’ bizness right about now!”
It was obvious that Sapphire was having flashbacks of walking in on Joy sucking Travis’s dick. And the more she thought about it the more heated she became.
Joy stood there with a dumbfounded expression glued to her face while Big Boned stood behind her looking like she had something to say. I sat there stunned because I had never seen Sapphire this heated before, but I guess she had good reason to be. The way she was looking all fiery-eyed and screw faced almost led me to believe she was about to invite Joy out to the parking lot. She knew I had my “baby .380” in the car, and judging from the size of this chick Joy had with her, we would have definitely needed it for her swole ass. Besides, I was just too cute that night to be taking an ass whippin’.
Joy looked at Sapphire with a scowl and turned to walk away. Before she walked off she stated a defiant “Fuck you!”
Hearing this, Sapphire rolled her neck ghetto-style and returned, “Nah, fuck you! You bum bitch!” Sapphire put her drink down and started to rise up off her stool. I grabbed her arm and stopped her. I looked around and saw that we were getting a few unwanted, inquisitive stares from individuals who had evidently heard the berating between the two cousins and were undoubtedly expecting a catfight.
After Joy and her friend had left I tried to calm Sapphire down. I patted her thigh and said, “Girl, fuck Joy. She can’t help it that she’s a nympho. All that bitch think about is dick. Dick, dick, dick. If it ain’t on her mind, it’s in her mouth.”
Sapphire looked at me sideways.
“Okay, bad choice of words. But you know what I mean. Let that bitch have sloppy seconds. You know she wasn’t doin’ nothing but tastin’ you when she was suckin’ Travis’s dick.”
I watched Joy as she snaked her way through the crowd.
“Up in here lookin’ a hot ass mess,” I added as I saw Sapphire trying to surpress a smile. I could tell she was lightening up a little.
“I know right? Did you see the shoes that hoe had on?” Sapphire added as we shared a small laugh.
A few minutes later, the atmosphere had calmed down a little. I looked over at Sapphire and tried to figure out where that sudden violent streak had emerged. Ever since I’d known Sapphire she had always been the cool, peaceful type. Only this night I saw something in her that made me look at her in a totally different light. I thought for a moment that maybe my girl was finally ready to get down with my hustle and roll with a bitch. Then on second thought, I rationalized that she was not yet ready to jump out there with an ocean full of sharks. For the simple fact that some of the shit I was into was so devious and conniving that it had my own conscience fucked up at times. I concluded that she was definitely not ready.
While I was in deep thought I happened to see the same two groupies from the restroom saying their goodbyes to the players. I couldn’t quite figure out which two of the players they had planned their rendezvous with but then again, it really didn’t matter because they all had dough, and I definitely wanted some of it.
“Gotta go do somethin’ right quick. Be right back,” I told Sapphire as I fished my phone out of my purse and quickly headed toward the club’s exit.
Once outside, I stood a few feet away from the exit door and punched in digits on my cell. I was trying my best to ignore the “Yo, ma” and “What up, shorty” from the niggas who were milling around and loitering. They truly acted as if they had a lack of anything better to do.
I stood on the curb with my phone glued to my ear and my eyes were trained on the club’s exit waiting for the two groupies to emerge. I was hoping they’d come right out behind me so I wouldn’t have to be outside too long. Although it was still summer, the night air was chilly and my arms were starting to form chill bumps.
I listened as the line rang three times before it was eventually answered. Coincidentally, as soon as the line was answered I spotted the two chicks coming out of the club giggling and staggering slightly. As I watched them stroll through the parking lot, I spoke into my phone. I kept my eyes on them until they reached their car, a late model Honda Accord. That was all I needed to see. I then turned my attention away from them and resumed my conversation.
After a few minutes of idle chatter I finally ended the call with my younger brother Monk and attempted to re-enter the club. Just before I reached the entrance I felt a hand on my arm. The vulgar comments and crazy ass looks from niggas I could deal with, but putting your hands on me without my permission is a straight-up violation!
Instinctively, I spun around with all intentions of checkin’ whoever this nigga was that had the audacity to put his hands on me. I turned on my heels with my mouth open, ready to go off. However, I was repressed when I came face to face with one of the finest pieces of masculinity I’d ever seen! My demeanor immediately softened as I blinked twice in succession to make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me and to make sure the liquor didn’t have a sistah hallucinating.
The first thing I noticed was his complexion. His skin looked as if someone had dipped him into a bowl of creamy chocolate, then sat his ass out in the sun to dry. I was loving that! Purely out of habit, starting with his shoes I gave his attire a quick once-over as my eyes scanned his body like a bar code. He had on spotless white on white Prada sneakers and Mek jeans. He also had on a button-down shirt that was unbuttoned, revealing a broad chest covered by a white tee. I couldn’t even front, I was feeling his appearance. I realized that he must not have been inside the club because he wasn’t wearing what the dress code had required. I wouldn’t have been able to miss all of that up in there anyway.
He looked to be at least six-three because I stand at five-seven without heels and this night my heels had four inches on them. Even with the heels on he was still towering over me by at least three inches. And, oh-m
y-God, his head was as smooth as a baby’s naked ass!
“Excuse me, can I have a minute?” His voice boomed with so much baritone-like bass that it made my nipples tighten up!
I wanted to say “A minute? Hell, for you I got a whole lifetime.” However, I folded my arms across my suddenly erect nipples and responded, “Maybe. Depends.”
I was demurely biting my bottom lip, trying my damnest to look sexy while continuing to hold his gaze.
He flashed a Taye Diggs-like smile displaying even, pearly whites, then he casually stroked his well-trimmed goatee before extending his hand to me
“I’m J.T.”
“Justice,” I blurted out. Then I flinched at the realization that I’d just given him my real name. That was something I very rarely did upon first introduction.
Damn I’m slippin’, I thought as I allowed him to take my hand. He raised it to his luscious lips and blessed it with the most seductive kiss I’d ever felt. I had to shake my head in an attempt to snap out of the spell this nigga had put me under.
This nigga got a bitch straight trippin’.
I took back possession of my hand while further observing this Adonis in human form standing before me. Because of his height I concluded that he was probably a “hoop nigga.” Then on second guess, the edginess he was exuding screamed “street nigga.” I had really been trying to leave those types of niggas alone, but J.T. had my ass ready to backslide!
While we were having our moment, a jet-black Hummer with a set of big ass chrome rims pulled alongside us and stopped. The windows were so heavily tinted the only thing I could see was quick flashes of light, which was radiating from several TV screens inside the truck.
Suddenly the driver’s side window slowly descended and a voice came from within. Had a bitch almost ready to hit the deck, thinking it was a roll-by or something. Can’t just roll up on black folks all slow with dark ass tinted windows like that. I’m from Chi-town and I’ve seen it happen entirely too many times in the past. One minute a vehicle would creep by all slow and shit and the next thing you knew everybody would be running and ducking bullets. That shit is not cool!