A Project Chick

by Nikki Turner

  The dinner went well. Mr. Bill was a perfect gentleman, until he needed to stop by his house to get some movies he wanted to drop off at Video World. She timidly stood by the door while he went to get the movies. He came into the foyer and put the movies onto the bottom of the steps and then told her he wanted to give her the grand tour of the house. Once he got to the master suite, it was then he asked her. "Look baby, let me lick that sweet clit.

  That's all I want, to taste you I'm going to look out for you real big."

  After the long day she had, she wasn't turning down Mr. Bill. Although this was there first date, right at that moment, it wasn't any shame in her game. Getting some release from all the built up stress that she'd been dealing with for months, and the day she had at work was just the tip of the iceberg. So, the song Mr. Bill was singing was something she needed and wanted. So, why the hell not let him show her what he was working with? She stood by the door as he walked around her licking his lips taking in her gorgeous body. The countless hours of working out during her lunch break at the YMCA wasn't for nothing. He moved behind her and then carefully leaned forward so that she could feel his breath on her neck. She tensed up for a second, but he whispered into her ear, "relax baby," as he undressed her and laid her diagonally cross the big California king size bed.

  Tressa's nipples tightened as he began kissing along her neck and ear. She didn't speak when he whispered into her ear how hot she looked, instead groans escaped her 136

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  lips. Slowly he moved forward, she could feel his breath on her nipple before he enclosed his mouth around her nipple sucking tenderly at first, then releasing it. Her mind was racing, keeping pace with her heart. Tressa arched her body, wanted to tell him to cut the chase and explore more of her. Instead, he began giving her other nipple the same attention, bringing loud moans from her. By this time, she was gasping for air, and he could tell just how hot and ready she was.

  She could smell his cigarette breath on her lips as they shared a hot kiss. When he was trying to kiss her, she kept trying not to. She didn't want to mess up the mood, so she held her breath and tasted the nicotine. As his tongue flicked in and out of her mouth, the taste of the nicotine was making her feel like she was about to vomit, but she kept her compulsure. He whispered in her mouth, "not yet baby" and moved away.

  "Oh my god." Her mind is screaming. "Mr. Bill, Mr.

  Bill, I am ready to cum. I don't have the time for these damn foreplay games, just handle your damn business." All of a sudden, he moves behind her taking her breasts in his hands squeezing them, her nipples didn't need any help getting harder. Squeezing and releasing,

  "mmmmmmm" he says, as he moves closer she can feel his rock hard penis pressing up against her butt. She could feel his hips swaying against her butt. She was thinking to herself, he better know I don't take it in the butt, but on the real, this damn ole man knows how to work his stuff. He began rolling my nipples with his finger, and by this time, she was begging, whimpering and squeezing her legs together. She felt him pulling her back towards the bed.

  There she was, laying smack dead in the middle of the bed, body glistening, squirming legs spread, Mr Bill began running his hands slowly down her stomach, watching as she drew in deep breaths as her chest heaved up and down, his hand slipped underneath her to remove her soaking wet thong, revealing how wet her pussy already was. Moaning as his fingers moved up to run lightly over her sensative clit, nearly brought Tressa off the bed. He leaned in between her legs, and anticipation was killing her as she felt his hot breath blowing on her pussy lips. Her hips slowly rose to greet him. Mr Bill's tongue slipped up and 137

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  down Tressa's clit, slowly and tenderly drawing it from its hiding place. Her legs were shaking like jelly. Now, make no mistake about it, Tressa has experienced oral sex before, but dammmmm, not like this, not with such expertise. She felt him slowly and carefully run his tongue from her clit down through her wet lips. He felt her hips bucking as he moved back up and slides his tongue deeper into her hot pussy. Tasting her excitement as she tried to grind back on his tongue, Tressa begans begging for release as he brought his tongue up through her lips to run the flat of his tongue along her clit. Then slowly but firmly stroking it.

  "O shit, got dam, what da!" Tressa screamed. That was all it took, it was a done deal! She arched her back telling him suck harder, begging him. "Please don't stop." Tressa began hitting one orgasm after the other, grinding her pussy on his tongue, bucking wildly. Mr Bill placed his hands behind Tressa knees allowing him to take her even further. Once Mr. Bill was done working his magic, Tressa lay on the bed for a minute wondering why Mr. Bill wasn't hugging her. She snapped out of her trance, opened her eyes only to see Mr Bill walking to the bathroom to wash the cum off of his face.

  The orgasm sure fitted the bill. Boy, did Mr. Bill have her climbing the walls for the next two hours. When it was all over, Mr. Bill gave her a bubble bath and a long message. Once he was in front of Tressa's building, he handed her a wad of cash, and said. "Told you I was gonna look out for you real good, here's a little something to help you out." She happily took the money and went up to her apartment.

  Once she was upstairs in her apartment, Tressa thought, d amn I can't believe this man gave me five hundred dollars just to lick the clit. Shoot, where has he been all my life? And he did it just like it was his profession! Life is good! Tressa didn't feel like a prostitute at all, she was getting paid for her services and doing what she had to do.

  The next day at work, she gave the money to Wanda for the car, and on their lunch break, Wanda took her to the DMV to get the tags and title transferred over. She knew Wanda told her that the car needed some bodywork, but she had no idea that literally, the only thing on the car in great condition was the motor, which ran great.

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  The car was every aspect of a bucket. The liner in the roof of the car was hanging down. The outside paint job was shot to hell. The original paint job was black, however, there were rust spots all over the car, and to top it off, one of the fenders was red. None of the remaining three hubcaps on the tires matched. The trunk didn't even open, it was tied down with a piece of rope. Only one windshield wiper worked. The driver's door handle was broke, which meant she had to roll down the window and open the door from the outside. She had scrambled, begged and went through the agony of giving Lucky the satisfaction of asking him for the money, to buy a 19 year old 1978 Z-28 Camaro that was all banged up.

  After a few days of driving the car, she actually came across some other things that were not working on the car.

  She found out that the gas hand never moved, it always stayed at a full tank, weather it was gas in it or not. There was a hole in the bottom of the car under the floor mat on the driver's car. Without the mat, she could see down to the ground of the car. The driver's seat could not be adjusted at all, it was stuck in the last notch all the way to the back. So, when she went to sit in the car, she had to put a pillow behind her back to bring her closer to the steering wheel. See, that was the an issue that she had to accept with having a bucket, everyday something else surprising would pop up that was wrong with the car.

  Tressa was sort of embarrassed at the appearance, but she thanked God for her transportation to whatever her destination would be.

  When she'd go places, she always parked two blocks away because she didn't want anybody to see her get out of the car. Two weeks after she got the car, she went to the beauty shop to get her hair done and, of course, Gypsy had some dirt to throw. Although she tried to keep the Z-28 a secret, Gypsy saw her getting out of the car two blocks up the street from the salon and, of course, Gypsy decided to throw some mud and rub it all in Tressa's face.

  "Girl, ooohhh, I love your Coach bag." Gypsy complimented Tressa.

  "Thanks."

 
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  "Where you get it from?" Gypsy could tell that it wasn't a bag that the bootleggers had been coming into the shop selling.

  "Oh, I got it from Hechts."

  "Girl, how much was it?"

  "It was like one something."

  "Congrats on your new car, girl!"

  "I don't have a new car." Tressa tried to play it off.

  "One of my customers, who work at the DMV, was telling us about your car. And how your Coach bag is worth more than the car you drive."

  Ouch, that hurt! I really can't wait until I get in a better position where I can just floss on these hoes. As a matter of fact, I am not even giving that hoe Gypsy one more penny of my damn money. She always talking down on me, but she going to get hers too. That bitch!

  That was a low blow. That one statement is what sent Tressa off the deep end. Although she wanted to punch Gypsy in the face, her frustration and rage turned towards Lucky. She vowed to herself that this would be one day that Lucky would feel a portion of her pain and frustration.

  Tressa stormed out of the salon and held her tears in until she got into her car. She cried hysterically, not even able to catch her breathe. The more the tears rolled down her cheeks, the more determined she felt to do something to Luck.

  Once she started the engine on the car, the radio was playing. She was thankful that if nothing else worked, the tape deck did. She pushed the cassette tape in and her theme song came on. She listened to the first verse, but the chorus is what dried the tears from her eyes, she wasn't gonna let nobody hold her down. The last verse of the song is what gave her the will to pull deep within herself and clear her mind to think straight.

  The song "Juicy", by Biggie Smalls, a.k.a. the Notorious B-I-G, was her instant gratification. This song reminded her that there was hope, the world was not over and her situation was only temporary. It was through this song that she was reminded there were brighter days ahead and that no storm lasts forever. Not only did this song give her inspiration but it pulled her out of her pity party 140

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  mindset and gave her a clear mind. With a clear mind, she was able to come up with a plan to make her feel better for the moment.

  Tressa stopped at a pay phone and called Wiggles to tell her she needed her to come over later to watch the boys.

  Without hesitation, Wiggles agreed.

  When Wiggles arrived, to her surprise, Tressa was dressed like a Ninja, wearing all black. She wore a tight fitting spandex jumpsuit, some black Reebok classics, and carried a small black leather backpack.

  "Where are you going?" Wiggles asked.

  "To combat."

  "Well, you need to call somebody else to watch the boys because I need to be with you then."

  "Nah, Wiggles, I've got this under control and I need you to be here with the boys. You know they're not going to stay with anybody else anyway."

  "If anybody calls, tell them that I am sleep, but whatever you say, don't say that I'm not here."

  "Got it."

  "I will call you if I need you."

  "OK." Wiggles said, but unsure and scared of what Tressa was up to. "Please promise me you'll be safe."

  "I will," Tressa said with a devilish grin on her face.

  Tressa took a drive to the West end part of town, a route she hadn't taken in close to a year. She reflected on how the neighborhood, she once loved so much, hadn't changed one bit since she'd left Lucky. She drove two streets over from her old place of residence, but still Lucky's dwelling.

  She checked to make sure she had a spare set of keys to the Z28. She pulled them out of her backpack, took her black leather jacket off, placed it in the car and locked the main set of keys in the running car under a big weeping willow tree. With her backpack placed securely on her back, she raced across the street and hopped over one of the houses fences. One more fence would put her in Lucky's backyard. She crept slow and cautiously like a thief in the night as she approached the fence that separated Joan and Lucky's property. She took her backpack off, got her bait out and placed her backpack on.

  With one hand, she threw herself over the fence, while 141

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  clutching onto her bait. When she landed on her feet, she saw the two rottweiler dogs headed her way. Once they approached her, although it had been close to a year, they recognized her scent and began to lick her. After all, she was the person who had taken care of them for over two years. She fed them 75% of the time and faithfully took them to all of their veterinarian and grooming visits. When they approached, she threw them a peace of turkey rolled up with two Tylenol PM tablets in it while she continued to pet them.

  I hope these daggone Tylenol PM's make them sluggish and go to sleep. Shoot, they put humans to sleep at the drop of a dime. I wish I had had a Valium. The other day Jacko took me to see that new movie called "Congo". I remember they gave the gorilla a valium to put him to sleep. I should have bought some from somebody around my way.

  That's OK, I am here now. It ain't no turning back.

  Before she knew it, within five minutes, the wild hyper attack dogs were getting sluggish. When the first one, Dopeman, dropped down, Tressa's heart started to beat fast.

  Dag, I hope I didn't kill him. I am not here to kill the damn dogs.

  Tressa quietly crept over to Dopeman, then she looked over at the other dog, Killer. Killer was staggering in slow motion, eyes watery, tongue hanging like he may have been taking his last breathe. She got close to Dopeman, relieved that he was still breathing. When she glanced back over at Killer, she watched as he collapsed. Then Tressa went straight to work. She pulled her barber clippers out of her backpack and began to shave the dogs fur. When the fur got just low enough, Tressa used the clippers to write.

  "MY OWNER IS A FAGGOT."

  Once she was done, she hurried and fled the scene.

  She didn't want to take any chances on her car not starting up when she got done, that is why she left it running. The whole way home she laughed hysterically, wishing she could be there to see the expression on Lucky's face. She knew Lucky would be furious because he was as homophobic as they come. Plus, rottweilers have a quality, thick coat of fur and the season was still winter outside.

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  This was enough to set any person off, and it was a known fact that it didn't take half as much to piss Lucky off.

  This was the first night she slept well in a while knowing she had made Lucky just a little upset. The next morning, she was awakened to the doorbell and banging on her door. She hopped up as she heard Wiggles say. "Who is it?"

  Tressa got her small 380 gun out of the shoebox on the top shelf of the closet, and ran to the front room as she asked Wiggles silently, using only body language, who was at the door.

  "Meechie." Wiggles responded.

  Both were puzzled, trying to figure out what she wanted this early in the morning.

  This begging ass chick better not be knocking on my door like she the damn police begging for a daggone thing.

  "Oh, my God. Wiggles, I need you to get Tressa quick. It's important!" Meechie screamed from the other side of the door. "She gotta come quick."

  "Hold on!" Wiggles screamed back through the door.

  Tressa and Wiggles both slipped some sweatpants and shoes on and opened up the door. Meechie was looking like she had just seen a ghost.

  "It's horrible and it don't make no sense. I am sorry for waking you up so early, but I had to. I just got up to walk around back to get me a hit, and I, oh my God." They only walked faster down the steps, and Tressa could not believe her eyes!

  Dopeman and Killer were laying on the hood of her car slaughtered. Blood covered the windshield and the side windows of the Z-28. One dude walking by came over to be curious, and he vomited everywhere. Tressa just sh
ook her head in disbelief and Wiggles couldn't understand why someone would put two dead dogs on Tressa's car.

  "Don't worry baby." Wiggles said, as she hugged Tressa.

  Just then a crack head walked up. "Look, I'll clean all this up for $40.00 and have your car looking like new." It doesn't make any sense, a crack head will do anything for a dollar to get a hit.

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  Tressa didn't dare say what she thought out loud, she would never want to hurt Wiggles' feelings. After all, she was a recovering drug addict.

  "Nah, I am going to take some pictures first, but I am going to need you to clean it up, but probably not until later tonight. OK?" Tressa told the crack head.

  Tressa went back into her apartment to get the camera and cordless phone. She checked on the boys, and couldn't believe, but was relieved, they were still sleeping through all the drama.

  As she walked back outside, the phone rang, who is this calling at 6:26 am?

  She answered, before looking at the caller ID.

  "Hello."

  "Bow-wow, yippee yo, yippee yea. Guess whose dogs ain't in the house?" Lucky jokingly sang to the melody of Snoop Dogg's song.

  Tressa knew exactly who it was, but she pretended that she didn't because she was totally caught off of guard.

  So, again she said. "Hello."

  "See how you make me kill?" Lucky asked in a cold, heartless tone.

  "What?"

  "You really don't understand do you? See, it's nothing for me to kill something that I love so dear." Tressa was so stunned that Lucky was on the other end of the phone, she could not reply. His words sent chills up her spine. Lucky only continued to torture her through his words.

  "As much as I loved the dogs, they were my fucking world, but in a New York minute, those dogs don't mean shit to me! I don't want nothing that you can get next to, because you'll never get next to me again. As a matter of fact, anything that you can get next to don't mean me any good, it's better off dead. Everyday you ride around in that raggedy ass car of yours, always remember, the second best thing to me is laid dead on your windshield." Before she could respond, Lucky hung up the phone. Wiggles could see the expression on her face as she held the phone.