Wifey, Part 1

by Erica Hilton

“Then why are you calling me the next day asking me to not call or text you? The nigga already got everything he needs in your cellie.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Yo, you knew our circumstances from jump. Why didn’t you delete all that freak shit? What if he shows my girl?”

  Jasmine’s voice elevated. “I was trying to delete the messages and that’s when he snatched my phone! He also took my pocketbook with my birthday money from my parents. He took my thousand dollars!”

  “Word,” I replied, unenthused. “I’ll replace that, no doubt. But you gotta look out for me too.”

  “Anything,” she purred, obviously thinking I was talking about sex. “Whatever your pleasure.”

  “Anything?” I repeated.

  “Anything!” she assured.

  “A’ight, just remember that.”

  Right after I hung up with Jasmine, my attorney called. He had gotten wind that the feds were working on a secret indictment that was going to be so wide-sweeping, it was probably going to take out my whole organization of underlings—the mules, corner boys, and trigger men. If convicted, everybody would be facing life sentences.

  “What does this mean?” I asked.

  “Well, technically, right now, not much that concerns you. These indictments are for low-level street dealers that are looking to cut a deal. If they cooperate there isn’t much they could say regarding your dealings with them because you don’t deal directly with them, which is good. But if they could get someone, anyone, in your organization on a higher chain of command, like your underboss—”

  “Or partner.”

  “Exactly. Anyone with substance to turn states evidence then we got a problem. The feds would much rather incorporate the testimony of high-level people in Ghetto Mafia than runners who can’t even pick you out in a lineup. If that should happen I’ll do my best for you but you got to do your part too.”

  “Which is?”

  “This is drop a hefty retainer over at my office as soon as possible. That way if you can’t get to your funds, or your assets are frozen you won’t have to worry about having a legal aid represent you against the federal government. I mean, I love you man but I can’t support my family working for pro bono.”

  “OK, done. What else?”

  “Nico, be very, very cautious on every move you make moving forward. Keep your hands as clean as possible if you know what I mean. And tie-up all loose ends.”

  I took heed to everything my attorney had to say. I took an hour to mediate on what moves I needed to make and then I redialed Jasmine.

  “Yo, I booked a room at the Marriott Marquis in lower Manhattan. Meet me there and I’ll bring you your dough. I want to celebrate your birthday. I miss you.”

  “Oh my god!” she squealed. “What made you change your tone with me?”

  I blew some air into the phone, genuinely feeling pressure and stress. “Don’t worry about all that. Be there by nine.”

  ***

  After we ended our phone call, I jumped in the shower and then drove myself to Manhattan in my Yukon Denali.

  Just as I was pulling out of my driveway, Mia was pulling into the driveway in her Range Rover with her good friend Sharmel. I stopped the car and rolled down the window and spoke to them.

  “Hey, baby,” Mia said to me.

  “What’s up? What’s good, Sharmel?”

  “Hey Nico.” Sharmel said.

  “Where you heading?” Mia asked.

  “Out.”

  Mia knew not to over question me on exactly where I was going.

  “We still going to breakfast and to the spa in the morning?”

  I looked at her in confusion.

  “Nico! Remember, I booked everything for us a couple of weeks ago?” Mia said, sounding kind of annoyed.

  “Oh yeah, yeah. I just drew a blank. I’ll be back tonight kind of late, but we’ll be good for tomorrow. What time we heading out?” I said, even though I had no idea what the hell Mia was referring to.

  “Eight o’clock I want us to leave. OK?” she asked, looking for reassurance from me.

  “A’ight, I’ll be here. So I’m out. Sharmel, good seeing you,” I said, rolling up my window and pulling off.

  ***

  I reached the Marriot Marquis at about nine-fifteen. By the time I parked the car and made it up to the room, it was a little after nine-thirty. I knocked on the door of room 2209 and waited.

  After about a minute or so, Jasmine unlocked the door and opened it. I can’t front—She looked good as hell, and instantly my dick got hard. She was wearing an all-black crotchless fishnet body stocking along with a pair of black marabou slippers with a three-inch heel. A smile came across my face, and I walked in.

  Jasmine closed the door behind me. “Shhhhh,” she said to me. She put her index finger to her mouth and prevented me from saying anything.

  After dimming the lights in the room, she took hold of my hand and led me from the foyer and into the room and stopped me right in front of the king-size bed. She started rubbing on my dick through my jeans, and tongue-kissing me. After about a minute of kissing, she unbuckled my belt and then unbuttoned the fly to my jeans and pulled out my hard dick. Before I could blink, she was on her knees and sucking my dick just like she had done in my crib. The only difference was, this time she was deep-throating my shit, and she wasn’t using no hands.

  I was speechless, enjoying everything.

  While Jasmine sucked my dick, I took off my hat, my leather coat, my shirt, and my wife-beater. I massaged her soft hair while she pleased me with her tongue. Jasmine definitely had skills, and she knew how to suck dick better than women twice her age.

  “Yeahhhh, make that shit nice and wet for me, baby,” I instructed her.

  Like a pro, Jasmine continued to please me, making sure not to use her hands.

  “Ohhh shit! I love that right there.”

  Jasmine licked my balls with her tongue, while deep-throating my dick. My dick had literally disappeared in her mouth, and her lips were touching my balls. Then, somehow, with my dick literally touching her tonsils, she managed to slide her tongue out and was licking my balls with her tongue.

  I had fucked many bad-ass dime pieces, hood rats and everything in between, and hands down, by far, Jasmine was giving me the best blowjob I’d ever had.

  Ten minutes into the blowjob, Jasmine wasn’t showing any signs of slowing down or quitting or even getting tired. Most chicks would have been complaining of lockjaw or saying that they were tired or something like that by that time. But not Jasmine. She was a certified pro, and she was going hard.

  To encourage her, I grabbed the back of her head and guided her in rhythm back and forth on my dick. It felt like an instant replay of the last time she had sucked my dick.

  I let go of Jasmine’s head and told her I was about to come.

  Finally she spoke her first words since opening the door for me. “I want you to come in my mouth.” She stuck out her tongue and waited for me to shoot my load.

  When I came, my sperm shot everywhere. Some of it got in Jasmine’s hair, some of it landed on her neck, her cheek, her collarbone, and a lot of it landed right on her tongue and she swallowed it like it was jelly.

  Jasmine then smiled. She looked up at me and watched my reaction. “I like this big vein on your dick.” She giggled before getting up off her knees. She stood up and went to the bathroom and came back real quick. She must have gone to the bathroom to clean herself off, because when she came back all of the come was out of her hair and off the rest of her body.

  Jasmine lay down on the king-size bed, her legs open, and tapped on her pussy with her right hand. Again, this was like déjà vu, because things were so reminiscent of how they had been in my crib.

  “My turn,” she said.


  “Your turn?”

  “Yup. I mean it is my birthday. I want you to eat me.”

  It was at that moment I realized a slight bruise on the left side of her face, no doubt from Shabazz. Something had gone down in the wee hours of the morning, but whatever happened, I doubted I’d get the true story.

  I slipped out of my boots, took off my jeans, and climbed onto the bed. I went face first into Jasmine’s pussy. I rubbed on her spot and slipped my middle finger inside of her, and she moaned, closing her eyes and rotating her hips in pleasure.

  “Look at this clit.”

  “You like it?”

  “I love it! It’s fuckin’ fat as hell!”

  “I was trying to tell you.”

  I sucked on her clit and simultaneously worked my finger in her pussy, forcefully massaging her G-spot.

  “Oh my God! Nico, you gonna make me come!” Jasmine was working her hips and grinding her pussy into my tongue faster and faster. Then she grabbed hold of the back of my head and forced me to stay right where I was at.

  I could tell she was about to come because it was like all of the muscles in her body got tense, and she got this crazy Incredible Hulk kind of strength, wrapping her legs around me and squeezing on my body tight as hell.

  “Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!” she screamed as her body trembled and convulsed.

  The next thing I knew, her pussy released juices all over my hand.

  “Oh shit! Oh my God!” Jasmine said, breathing real heavy.

  I laughed. “You actin’ all crazy and I ain’t even hit you with my dick yet.”

  “I’m sorry.” Jasmine seemed kind of embarrassed, and she grabbed a pillow and covered her face.

  By this time my dick was hard again. I reached in my jeans pocket for a condom. Jasmine still had her face covered, acting shy, but I knew there wasn’t a shy bone in her body. I scooped her up by her hips and placed her so that her ass was at the edge of the bed, her back still on the bed. I spread her legs apart and pushed them back until the front of her thighs were touching the bed, and then I slid my dick inside her pussy, causing her to gasp.

  I fucked her slow in the beginning. I knew women didn’t like when dudes served up weak dick, so I had every intention of murdering her pussy just like I had done before.

  Jasmine was flexible and limber, so she wasn’t bothered at all when I repositioned her legs and pinned her feet behind her head and started fucking her as hard as I could. She was screaming, but I knew she was enjoying every stroke.

  “Yessss! That’s that grown-man dick right there!”

  “You like the way I beat this pussy?”

  “I love it! Murder that shit!”

  Jasmine didn’t have to cheer me on because my only goal was to leave her shit in cardiac arrest. Every stroke I delivered was so deep, I had to be hitting her kidneys or some shit. But to her credit she was a trooper, taking every stroke and enjoying it.

  After about five minutes, Jasmine grabbed both of my butt cheeks, forcing me to fuck her even harder. She started to shake her head from side to side, and she closed her eyes. After she finished twitching, I turned her over and started fucking her doggy-style.

  She turned and said to me, “You know you ain’t right!”

  I didn’t bother to answer her because I was too focused on coming a second time myself. I clasped both of my hands behind my head and watched her ass giggle as I pumped my dick in and out of her pussy. Before long, I was coming a second time, and that nut felt better than the first one.

  After I came, I beat on my chest like I was a gorilla.

  “Told you I was gonna demolish that shit.” I smacked her on her ass. “Happy birthday.”

  Jasmine looked at me seductively and she smiled. She then pulled back the covers on the bed and got under the sheets.

  “Nah. You gotta give me my props, though ’cause I put it on you too.”

  “Yeah, but I won.”

  “You ain’t win shit,” she jokingly said. “If anything, that was a draw.”

  I laughed. “OK, I’ll give you that. You won round one, but I won round two. So, yeah, it’s a draw.” Jasmine pulled the covers up to her neck and told me that she was tired and was going to take a nap.

  I told her I was going to get dressed and then go downstairs to the View lounge and have some drinks, and that I would be back.

  “OK, we gotta have a rematch later,” she stated.

  I laughed. I really liked her style a whole lot. She had good head and good pussy, and she seemed like she genuinely loved sex as much as a guy, so she had a lot going in her favor. But I still had to make sure I wasn’t more focused on her pussy than I was on my business.

  ***

  I came back up to the room Jasmine was asleep. I stripped naked and crawled into the bed next to her. She stirred in bed, realized I had returned, and then rubbed on my chest.

  “Your body feels so good,” she whispered. “It’s so strong.”

  I wasn’t one for pillow talk, but on this night I decided to engage in it because it gave me the perfect opportunity.

  “You trust me?” I asked Jasmine.

  The room was pretty dark, the only light peering into the room coming from the neon Times Square street lights and billboards twenty-two floors below our room. But even in the dark room I could see Jasmine look at me.

  “Do I trust you? Of course, I do. Why?”

  “I don’t know what it is about you, but it’s just this chemistry thing or something that I’m just really feeling. But you know my situation with Mia, and I don’t wanna fuck that up and then find out that your ass wasn’t really real. What I really should be asking you is do you love me.”

  Jasmine reached up and kissed me on my cheek. “You can trust me, baby. I don’t have nothing to hide, and I don’t have no agenda or none of that. And, as far as your situation goes with Mia, I’m a big girl. I knew what it was from the jump, but most importantly I do love you.”

  “So what’s the deal with you and Shabazz?”

  Jasmine responded quickly, “I hate him,” a sound of disgust in her voice. She continued to rub on the left side of my stomach, her face on the left half of my chest.

  “You said you trust me, right?”

  “Yeah, I do,” Jasmine replied. “Why you keep asking me that?”

  “I’m asking you because I want you to do something for me, but I need to know that you trust me and that we’re on the same page.”

  “OK, what’s up?” Jasmine asked.

  “I want you to murder Shabazz for me.”

  “What?” Jasmine said as she sat up.

  “You heard what I asked you.”

  “Whoa. I was not expecting that at all.”

  Jasmine looked at me, I think, to determine if I was serious or if I was just testing her. And I kept quiet.

  “You serious, aren’t you?” she asked me.

  I nodded my head.

  Jasmine sat fully up and then she got out of the bed and walked to the other side of the room. She reached in her bag and got a blunt, and she asked me, “Do you mind if I smoke this blunt?”

  “Nah, not at all. Do you. No judging, ever, from me,” I declared. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I wasn’t down for you. You do this for me, and I got you on whatever it is you want.”

  I got up and held her. I could literally feel her heart beating a mile a minute.

  Jasmine lit the blunt and, as she started to smoke, walked closer to the window. I followed her, and we both looked out onto the bright lights and the rich New York City skyline.

  “Why though?” she asked me. “Why me?”

  “Because I want you, and I gotta know that I can trust you, no matter what. And if I’m gonna keep it real, I just got word that an indictment is about to
come down on me, and if they get Shabazz to talk, then I’m done. Everything I built is done, and me and my whole crew will be doing football numbers in prison.”

  Jasmine was quiet, and I kept quiet as she smoked her weed.

  “But how you know for sure that he’s snitching?”

  “That’s what I pay my lawyer and his investigators this big money. They find the shit out for me.” I walked over and grabbed my phone, and then I came back over to her. “This is how good they are. One of the investigators took this.” I handed her my phone for her to look at the picture I had just opened up.

  “Oh my God! When was this?”

  I had just showed her a picture of Shabazz fucking some chick in his truck. The picture was old, and Shabazz had sent it around to his boys a while ago bragging because he’d fucked a rival drug dealer’s chick.

  “I’m just saying; trust what I’m telling you. This nigga ain’t never been down for you or for nobody else. He only been down for self, and he gotta go, or else we all lose.”

  Jasmine put out her blunt and placed it in an ashtray that was on top of a table near the window, and then she went and sat back down on the bed.

  I sat down next to her. “So what’s the deal?” I asked her.

  “I can’t kill anyone! I just know I can’t, Nico. Can’t you find someone else? Why do I have to do it? You got a whole army out there.”

  I began massaging her shoulders, which were stiff. “Jasmine, you don’t gotta do anything you don’t want to do. I asked because you’re the only one I can trust. The fewer people who know, the better. I just told you those peoples are right around the corner and they don’t knock on doors—they kick them in.”

  Jasmine began to tremble uncontrollably. “I just hate him so much that I can’t understand why this decision isn’t easier for me.”

  “He put his hands on you, didn’t he?”

  She shook her head, emphatically.

  “Jasmine, don’t ever lie to me again. I can look at you and see he hurt you. When we were making love I could feel your body tense up from pain when I’d grab your waist or arms. Tell me what he did to you.”

  Jasmine looked aloof. Instead of answering me, she said something better. “Just tell me how to pull it off, and I’m with it.”