by Erica Hilton
I couldn’t believe how good her tongue felt. “Ohhh shit!”
“I told you to be quiet.” Jasmine smiled.
All I could do was direct her head back to my balls, and she continued to suck on them. Jasmine then turned her head in a way where her head was underneath my balls and she took her tongue and started to lick the area in between my balls and my asshole all the while stroking my dick. That shit felt so good, I had to stop her because I was going to bust in two minutes.
I guided Jasmine up to her feet and she looked at me and smiled because she knew she had perfect dick-sucking skills.
“Take off that thong,” I said to her.
She slipped out of the thong and laid down on the bed, her legs spread apart, and she started to play with her pussy. “Is it fat enough for you?” she asked seductively.
I was so ready to run up in her raw, but I knew Shabazz had been fucking everything that moved, so I played it safe and I went into my pants pocket and took out a Magnum and slid it on my dick. I told Jasmine to turn around.
Jasmine turned around so that her ass was facing me, on her hands and knees, while her feet dangled off the edge of the bed.
I slowly slid my dick into her pussy, and she gasped when my dick first went it inside her. Her pussy was tight like a virgin’s. After a few gentle strokes to get things started, I was fucking her as hard as I could.
I did my best to bang Jasmine’s back out, but she was taking all of my dick like a trooper. She put her face into the bed so that her ass was fully up in the air and accessible. As I wore her pussy out, she reached and grabbed a pillow and buried her face in it to muffle her screams and moans.
After about five minutes she moved the pillow from her face, and she turned and looked at me. “You making sure I remember that dick!” she said. “Emmmmhhh! You feel so good inside me!”
At this point I could tell that all of Jasmine’s reservations were gone. She asked me if she could turn over on her back, so I let her, and then I continued to fuck her missionary style.
“You gonna make me come like this,” she said to me.
I started to fuck her harder.
“Yeah, baby!” she screamed. “Give me that dick!”
I kept fucking her, and thirty seconds later, she was coming. She wrapped her legs around me and pulled me all the way into her and grabbed my ass with both of her hands. She was coming so hard, she didn’t even realize she was scratching the shit out of me in the process.
When she was done coming, she looked up at me, breathing heavily. She playfully slapped me. “I hate your black ass! I don’t even know how the hell this happened!” she said through a smile.
I paid her no mind and kept fucking her, and two minutes later I came. The shit felt so good, I didn’t even pull my dick out of her pussy. I was just hoping the condom didn’t break or anything, and thankfully it didn’t.
“Look at you sweating like crazy.” Jasmine wiped some sweat from my forehead and smiled at me. She covered her face and shook her head.
“What?”
“Now I don’t wanna leave,” she said.
I stood up and took off the condom, and Jasmine sat up.
“I don’t wanna leave either.” I gently touched her face and gave her a peck on the lips. “We gonna get together again when we got more time for each other.”
We both began to get dressed before making our way out of the house and to my car, where my driver was waiting for us.
As we headed back to Queens, Jasmine was pretty much quiet for most of the ride. I was surprised she hadn’t even at least commented on my house, but there was no way in the world she wasn’t impressed by it, especially considering where she was living in the hood.
When we reached the Liberty Avenue exit on the Van Wyck Expressway, I reached in my pocket, took out five hundred dollars, and handed it to Jasmine.
She gave me a confused look. “What’s that for?”
“A small birthday present.”
“Awww, thank you!” Jasmine said as she took hold of the money. “That’s so sweet.” She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.
Before long we had pulled into the front of Jasmine’s house. I told the driver to give us a minute. Then I held out my hand to Jasmine and she placed her hand inside of mine.
“So we finally got to link up,” I said.
Jasmine grinned from ear to ear. “Yes, we definitely did.”
There were no other words to be said at that point, so I leaned into Jasmine’s direction and kissed her on the lips. She didn’t pull away from me. When I looked at her, her eyes were closed, so I took that as a green light and placed my hand on the back of her neck and started to tongue-kiss her. We kissed for about thirty seconds, and then I pulled away from her.
“You wasn’t lying—Your shit is fat and juicy for real.” I playfully tapped her on her chin with my hand.
“I never lie on myself.”
She didn’t wait for me to signal my driver to open the door. She unlocked her door and opened it, and as she was about to step out of the car, she thanked me for everything.
“Don’t start running from me now,” Jasmine said before fully exiting the car.
“We good. I gotchu. Keep my shit tight, ya heard?”
She looked at me and smiled, and nodding her head before closing the door.
I smiled to myself after watching her make it inside her house. I couldn’t wait to fuck her again. Jasmine had good-ass pussy and good head, but that was just a side note as far as I was concerned. She didn’t know it yet, but there was no way I was going to start running from her. I couldn’t run from her if I wanted to, at least not until I got her to set up her man for me.
I was supposed to meet Mia for lunch in Manhattan, but I wasn’t in the mood for her shit, so I called her and told her I couldn’t make it. Instead I told my driver to take me to Harlem, so I could link up with BJ. I needed him and Lo on a flight like yesterday to link up with the Haitians out in Miami.
***
It was nearly three o’clock in the morning, and I could hear my cell phone vibrating from across the room. Mia stirred in bed, pretending to be asleep. I walked across our massive bedroom and grabbed my phone, thinking that it was Jasmine. To my shock, Bebo was blowing me up.
“Yo,” I said.
“Yo, Nico, what took you so long to answer your phone?” Bebo asked, aggressively.
“I was ’sleep, muthafucka. Fuck you think took me so long?”
Bebo paused momentarily, “I need you, my nigga.”
“A’ight, we’ll politick in the morning.”
“Nah, this can’t wait. I can’t talk this shit through the wire. Those peoples might be listening.”
I exhaled as my mind raced on what to do. “So what you thinkin’?”
“Come through to the underground. I’m already here waitin’ on you.”
The underground was code for a basement stash house that we used for business meetings and other illegal shit. The apartment building was off of Hillside Avenue and 179th Street in Jamaica, Queens, where we would pay the super of the building a few grand a month. My gut told me something wasn’t right—that this could be a setup. I could count on two hands the number of niggas I knew who left their cribs in the middle of the night to never come back. When Mia saw me getting dressed she began to panic.
“Who you going to meet?”
“I got shit to take care of.”
“This late?”
“Go back to sleep. This shouldn’t take long.”
When she saw me reaching for my Glock, I could almost see her eyes relax, and I wasn’t sure if I liked that. When she thought I was going to meet some bitch she was all worried and ready to beef. The moment she saw me reaching for my burner she was content with a nigga going out
in the streets to possibly put my murder game down.
As soon as I got in my truck, I called BJ.
“Yo, did you get a call from Bebo?”
“Nah, why, what’s good?”
“That nigga just called and asked me to meet him at the underground.”
“This time of night?”
“Exactly.”
“You want me to come through?”
“No doubt. And go by and pick up Lo. I don’t trust Bebo. This might be an ambush, and I want to be on point. I don’t want to walk in outnumbered and outgunned.”
When I pulled up on the block I didn’t see BJ and Lo, so I circled the block a few times just to see if I could spot anyone creeping. The block was desolate and quiet other than a few livery cabs driving down every few minutes. I was just about to hit BJ on his jack when he hit me.
“I see you,” BJ stated. “We’re parked down by the bodega. Come down and pick us up.”
My eyes scanned the block and BJ flickered his high-beam lights. As my car crept up the block, I kept wondering what the fuck was so urgent to pull me out of my bed. When BJ and Lo got in my car they were wondering the exact same thing.
“Yo, this don’t feel right,” BJ stated the obvious. “That nigga didn’t give you a hint as to what was up?”
I shook my head and tried to remain focused. “If y’all even feel like shit ain’t right, just start blazing.”
When we got downstairs to the lower level we heard a few hushed voices. Finally, Bebo called out, “Yo, Nico, that’s you?”
“All day,” I replied as I bent the corner. Look at this dumb muthafucka, I thought. With his mouth and hands duct-taped behind his back, battered and bruised sat Brandon. He was real fucked up. And surrounding him was Bebo, Corey, and Earl. When Brandon fucked up the hit on Skeen by allowing Shabazz to get away, I told him that he had to lay low until the dust settled. He sure had enough paper from the hit to get outta Dodge. As soon as our eyes met, I knew what time it was. He’d given me up.
“What’s good?” I asked Bebo as if he didn’t have a prisoner just inches from my face.
“I didn’t know we was having a house party,” Bebo remarked dryly. “Why don’t we film this shit and put it up on YouTube?”
I smirked. “What are you talkin’ ’bout?”
“You actin’ brand new, Nico. I called you out. No disrespect, but why you bring your bodyguards.”
“These are our soldiers, man. They’d take a bullet for you!” I stated, trying to feel out the situation. “You coulda been hemmed up in here for all I know, and if that were true, you woulda been happy to see these muthafuckas.”
I wanted to mention that he had Corey and Earl flanked at his side, but that wasn’t really the point.
Ignoring my last remark, Bebo walked over to Brandon and ripped his duct-tape from off his mouth.
“Listen to what this muthafucka is saying ’bout why he killed Skeen.”
There wasn’t anything that Brandon could say that I didn’t already know. I took out my Glock and emptied three joints into his chest cavity. No need in prolonging the inevitable. There wasn’t any way that he was walking out of there alive and on the strength of his sister—an ex girlfriend of mine—I put him out of his misery.
“Damn, Nico, why the fuck you do that?!” Bebo barked. His pressure had risen because he didn’t get the show he wanted. He wanted to see the look on my face when Brandon said that I’d paid him to murder Skeen.
“It don’t matter why he murdered Skeen. Y’all niggas shoulda handled this already. I don’t know why you sittin’ here babysitting this muthafucka!”
BJ wasn’t a dummy. He chimed in to help bolster my action. “Y’all know Nico is quick to let his thang go! If you wanted someone more diplomatic, then you called the wrong dude.”
I nodded my head in agreement as Bebo glared at me. I continued to grip the handle of my Glock, never tucking it back in my waist. If Corey or Earl even flinched, I’d body them both.
After a few tense seconds, I stated. “Yo, we out. I got outta my bed for this?”
“Oh, no doubt,” Bebo replied. He switched up his mood and body language quickly. “But, yo, what about the work? We still gonna fuck with the niggas from the party? I need you to come through tomorrow for a meeting with them.”
“Just let me know the time and place and I’ll be there,” I said. “How much work we talkin’?”
“Between seventy and eighty keys a month of that pure Columbian uncut shit. Straight off the boat.”
I nodded.
“A’ight, tomorrow. Hit me up.”
As we walked toward my car BJ asked in a rushed whisper, “We not fucking with that snitch are we?”
“Hell nah! And I ain’t going to no meeting that the feds will be listening in on. Fuck that! Bebo has got to go, but we gotta do it right. He has to disappear and never be found.” I leaned on my car. “BJ, I’m putting you on that. Get rid of that muthafucka!”
CHAPTER 12
Mia
Ever since I suspected that Jasmine might have something going on with Nico, it was almost like I had become obsessed with knowing who Nico was with and what he was doing every second of the day.
I had never spoken up and confronted him about Jasmine because I was afraid of what his reaction might be. Plus, other than the fact that they were calling and texting each other, it wasn’t like I had any other hardcore proof that they were actually fucking.
One thing I did was, I started keeping tabs on every number that showed up on Nico’s phone bill just to see if I saw any kind of patterns. Whenever I saw a number on his bill that I didn’t recognize, I would block my phone number and call that number to see who picked up. And I would also Google the phone number just to see what would come up.
Nico was staying in contact with a chick in Maryland on a regular basis. I had a good idea who she was, but I wasn’t one hundred percent sure. And there was also another chick with a Virginia phone number he was calling on a regular basis, but I had no idea who she was.
Seeing that those two chicks were out of town, I didn’t really look at them as too much of a threat, compared to Jasmine, who was right here in New York with Nico and had daily access to him.
Jasmine was not respecting me at all, in terms of contacting Nico. From the pattern of her calls and texts to him, I could see clearly that something was up because the calls and texts were all throughout the day and night. And it was starting to increase to the point where she was in contact with him more than I was.
I made sure I called everybody I knew who lived in Queens and asked them did they know who Jasmine was. It proved to be a small world, because a few people I was cool with either knew her personally, or knew of her through other people. I made sure I took mental notes on everything people were telling me about her.
I kept hearing how cool Jasmine was with some chick named Simone, and I kept hearing how she was quickly trying to become the next big video vixen. The other thing I kept hearing was that Jasmine and her crew were nothing but money-hungry, gold-digging ghetto whores.
Basically, after doing my informal background check on Jasmine, I didn’t feel like she was the absolute biggest threat in the world. But, regardless, she was still a threat, and I wanted her removed from the picture, so I kept digging and investigating to see what else I could find out.
What turned out to be a wild revelation to me was, on the same day I had called Jasmine and told her to stop calling Nico, I noticed an incoming phone number on his account history. It looked like the call went to voice mail, because it was only one minute long. So I blocked my number and called it back, and the call ended up going to voice mail. There was a female’s voice on the voice mail, but I wasn’t sure who the chick was. The fact that the number had a New York area code definitely piqued my interest, tho
ugh, so I Googled it.
I was shocked by what I saw come up in Google. There was a long list of links from Google that took me to Craigslist ads associated with the number, all in the escort section of Craigslist. I clicked on all of the ads I saw in Google, and each ad had some chick named Chyna who was basically prostituting herself, but she wasn’t making it blatant. For example, one ad said she was offering “full service for two hundred and fifty roses,” and other similar ads had different prices, but they were all obvious cover-ups for prostitution.
Immediately after seeing all of those ads, my heart started to beat with fear. I was wondering if Nico was paying for pussy, and if he was, how long had he been doing this? And with how many chicks? Why would he feel the need to fuck prostitutes?
My heart continued to pound as I looked at the ads. I was trying my hardest to see if I could recognize who the chick was. It was hard to tell for sure because, in some of the pictures, her face was blurred out, and in other pictures, she had a black line passing through the upper part of her face. In some pictures you could tell that she took a picture of herself with her back facing a mirror so that you couldn’t see her face, and you could only see her ass and the back of her body in the picture.
I analyzed every picture. All of a sudden it was like my heart stopped, and I realized that Chyna could actually have been Jasmine. “Oh my fuckin’ God!” I said out loud to myself.
Immediately I called the number back from my blocked number, and again the phone rang out to voice mail. I listened really closely to see if could make out the person’s voice, but I wasn’t able to say for sure that it was Jasmine.
I went back to looking at the pictures, and before I knew it, more than an hour had passed by, and I was still analyzing them. I was becoming more and more convinced that it was, in fact, Jasmine in the pictures. The girl in the pictures was the same complexion as Jasmine, and looked to be about the same height, and had the same hair color and hair texture.