by Nikki Turner
“Girl, why you looking all crazy? You high, ain't chu?” It was more of a statement than a question.
“Of course I am,” she answered with a bit of a slur in her tone. “You know how I do.” She bent down and began unfastening his belt. “I'm horny, too,” she said in a husky voice. “Why you got on all these clothes? You know what I want.”
Cojack doubled over in laughter as she continued to talk shit about how horny she had gotten while waiting on him. Robbin was on fire. Her juices oozed through her pink lace panties around her crotch and down her inner thigh. It was that way whenever he came near. Cojack dragged on his cigar as she kneeled down in front of him. She unbuttoned his belt and unzipped his Guess jeans, pushing them down to the floor.
“Lay back,” she instructed, retrieving the cigar from his hand. Robbin motioned to the dresser and was back with a folded dollar bill. She pulled out his dick and began caressing it and watching it grow in her hand. Robbin licked her lips while sprinkling a white substance on the tip of his head. Cojack looked up at her curiously.
“Shorty, what the hell you up to?” he asked.
“Just lay back and let me drive this car. I wanna try something new.” He observed the powder on his penis and shook his head. He'd heard that freaks put coke on the dick to numb it up, but just 'cause he sold it didn't mean he ever tried it.
“Now just relax,” she said as she commenced to licking the head of his cock until the substance was gone. She then let her tongue travel up and down the length of his penis, watching it swell. A deep sigh escaped from Cojack as he felt his muscle go deep inside her mouth, the head touching the back of her throat. Robbin was now sucking hard, and from the look on Cojack's face, it was evident he was enjoying himself. She had never sucked his dick so good before. Robbin could feel the bitter cocaine taste in her mouth, which only turned her on more. Drenched with the excitement, she slid out of her shorts and panties, kissed his head, and hopped on his dick. In minutes she was moaning and screaming out his name.
“Baby, damn! It is sooo good. Aw oh I missed this dick,” she exclaimed in an emotional outburst.
“Shit!” he responded as convulsions shook him. “Damn, boo. I'm ready to come,” Cojack gasped and took hold of her shoulders, slamming every inch of his meat in her.
“No, Cojack, no. Please don't,” she cooed. “Not yet, baby.” Robbin felt his body tremble beneath her as a mother lode of seed filled her insides. She rode him faster, determined to get what she'd been longing for the whole night.
“Naw, you not getting soft on me,” she said, her voice full of disappointment. She was angry and out of breath. “Shit!” she cursed and collapsed on top of him as he slipped out of her wet coochie. “I can't believe you did this to me again.” She stared at him, waiting for an explanation. Cojack returned a dumbfounded look.
“Damn you!” She rolled off of him. “What's wrong with you? Why can't you stay hard, Cojack?” she said angrily.
He sat up, pulling at his member as if it would rise to the occasion.
“Damn, shorty, I don't know what the fuck is up.”
“You not leaving me like this,” she stated with a pout. He knew she was serious but couldn't help laughing.
“What the hell so funny?” She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. “I don't see shit funny. I'm sick of this shit,” she stated in a fury. “Cojack, I told you what you need to do,” she added, slightly blushing.
“Shorty, you should already know the answer to that. I don't get down like that.”
“It ain't gon’ hurt you, Cojack, dag. I been doing it for years and ain't nothin’ happened.” She pulled at his limp dick. “Baby, please. I need it so bad.”
“Before I sniff dope, I'll get a bottle of ginseng,” Cojack stated, laughing in a way that only infuriated her more.
“That shit don't even work! Live a little, boo. I know you'll like it. Just this once,” Robbin begged.
What the hell is wrong with me? he wondered as he gazed at her disappointed look. Cojack hated the fact that he couldn't stay up after busting a nut. It was this way with all his female friends, but Robbin was the first to ever complain. She continued to nag him about the dope. Cojack shook his head, but in his mind he was seriously contemplating the idea. She had some good pussy and he wanted nothing more than to give her what she needed. She began kissing between his thighs, enticing him with long broad licks up his dick.
“Please, boo, just one time,” she said, nibbling on the base of his shaft. “Don't I always give you what you want? I always please you, Cojack.”
Ain't this a bitch! As much as he tried, he couldn't resist anylonger. His eyes gazed over her perfectly shaped buns as she lay there blowing him. He knew a lot of cats would call this a straight-up sucker move, which he could not dispute. But tonight it didn't even matter. His only concern was knocking sparks from Robbin's fine ass for about two or three hours straight. “Fuck it,” he finally said. “Where that shit at?”
She gave him a rolled-up dollar bill and some white powder. Without even looking at it, Cojack snorted.
“Damn, baby, that wasn't no coke,” he said, sniffing.
“No,” she said. She explained that it was heroin and that it would make him stay hard longer. At first Cojack was mad. It was one thing to snort a little coke, but he would never do something as stupid as sniffing heroin. But it was too late now, and with Robbin sucking his knob he didn't seem to care anymore. Everything just felt good—real good.
FOUR
THE NEXT DAY Cojack had important business to take care of. He had to meet a couple of his best customers and unload some product. The love for Cojack in the projects was tremendous. Under him were a gang of loyal adolescents who would do anything he asked without question. In a way he kind of felt responsible for his foot soldiers, because he had taken on such an authoritative role in their lives. He was the father of those who didn't have one. Aside from the hustlers, he really prided himself on the little kids who dwelled in the small confines of the ghetto. They were so precious, so innocent. He invested a lot of time in them.
Every other weekend he was taking them somewhere. Last week it was the Skateland, the girls’ choice, of course. He'd rent three or four utility vehicles and squeeze as many children as he could in them and move out. It didn't take long for his partners to get involved after noticing how much attention they received from females as a result of their good deeds. King's Dominion was the most fun. In fact, Cojack had met many of the girls he was seeing when he was out with the kids. It warmed his heart to know their mothers trusted him the way they did. Most of them were single parents who were more than happy to see someone like Cojack doing nice things for their kids. A lot of the mothers were fiends and too high to keep up with their kids anyway. Cojack knew this and was saddened at times.
It was a warm Sunday afternoon, a perfect day for a cookout. Bellmeade Community Center was swarming with project kids. The parking lot was filled with cars and so was the street. Cojack had outdone himself as always. He had purchased pounds of hamburgers, hot dogs, and chicken for the grill. There were dozens of coolers full of soda and juice, as well as bag after bag of chips and cookies.
He and David, the event coordinator, were good friends. Over the years Cojack had donated money toward team uniforms and football equipment. At least twice a month they would get together and do something nice for the inner-city youth. Some of the mothers even volunteered to come out and assist with the cooking.
Several picnic tables were set up on the basketball court. The grills were burning and the place was swarming with folks happily indulging themselves in the free food and drinks. Alcohol was not allowed, at least not on the premises. But every now and then Mason, Fisher, and a few guys would dip off from the crowd for a quick sip of a forty and a chronic break. Cojack was too involved with the kids to think about dippin’ off even for a second.
“Yo, little man,” Cojack called to one of the boys who played on the football team.
&
nbsp; “What's up, Cojack,” the youngen said as he gave Cojack a five.
“What's been up? How are things going?”
“Things is cool.”
“What about school? How's your grades?”
“They a'ight,” the boy answered.
“A'ight don't get you in college,” Cojack said in a serious tone. “A'ight don't get you out the hood. You know what I'm saying, little man?”
The boy put his head down and nodded. “I'm just having problems with math is all. I can't do those fractions and shit.” Cojack sighed. “I mean stuff.”
Cojack stood there and thought for a minute. “What if you had a tutor? Would that help you out?”
The boy laughed and sucked his teeth. “My moms ain't got no money for no tutor.”
“I didn't ask you all that, now did I? If you had a tutor would that help you?”
“Yeah, I guess,” the boy said, shrugging his shoulders.
“You guess?” Cojack asked.
“Yeah, it would. I can get better with some help.”
“Then what do you say maybe twice a week after school you could come here to the rec and work with a math tutor?”
“That sounds good,” the boy said.
“Cool. Then I'll hook it up.”
“Damn, thanks, Cojack,” the boy said. Once again Cojack sighed. “I mean, dang, Mr. Cojack, sir. Thank you.”
Cojack laughed, then patted the kid on the head. “No problem. Now go on and eat up some of this food.”
“Okay,” he said, running off.
Cojack watched him run off and just stood there with a smile on his face. But then a gorgeous chick walked by and he stood there watching her ass instead.
Females crushed the party in packs. They wanted to be wherever the hustlers were. It was such a good day, but something was different for Cojack. Something was missing. His mind was distracted and all he thought about was going to see Robbin again. He remembered the way he had felt the night before, like he was some kind of superman. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to try some more of that stuff she had.
FIVE
TWO WEEKS after the picnic the sun was blazing over Richmond's streets, bringing people out to the Midlothian Car Wash in droves. It was more like a car show, the way drivers lined up their whips in front of the car wash for everyone to admire, everything from Hummers, Corvettes, and Escalades to souped-up old-school Caddys.
The chicks were hawking all of the fellas in an attempt to find their flavor, whether it was a dude in a snugly fit wife beater that outlined his cuts and a body covered in tattoos or a clean-cut dude in a Rocawear button-up with khakis.
Cojack cruised up and saw Mason's Philly cap hung to the back as he stood talking to two cuties in a forest green Land Cruiser. Co-jack got out of his Lexus. His iced-out chain and Rolex glistened in the strong rays of the sun. Immediately, three girls cleaning out a red Tracker began flirting with him as he stopped to chat with a few of his buddies from the Ave. Finally, he made his way over to Mason, who was with two familiar faces, this woman named Mesha that Co-jack sometimes ran with and her friend Kim. Cojack chuckled to himself at the look Mesha shot him. After giving his man dap, he faced the glaring female.
“Damn, Mesha, when we get there?” Cojack asked as he looked her up and down, admiring her toned physique. He almost quivered thinking about the last time the two of them had hooked up. Whether he came too quick or not and she never got hers, she got excited off of the mere fact of pleasing him.
“Why you ain't been callin’ me?” she said, rolling her eyes.
“I can't even lie, shorty. A nigga been rippin’ and runnin'.”
“Unh-hunh, I bet,” she replied.
“So what up, though?” He smiled and squeezed her cheek. “You gon’ spend the day with a nigga or what?”
“And where we goin'?” she asked, snappin’ her neck.
“For real, for real, I'm tryin’ to lay back in an AC somewhere. Shit, we can hit the pool and chill. It's too hot to do anything else.”
“That sounds like fun,” Kim jumped in. Mason seemed to like the idea as well.
“So how you gon’ act? You gon’ chill out wit’ your boy or what?” Cojack asked, giving her a pat on the behind. He stepped closer, observing her long bronze legs, thick hips, and a set of breasts that seemed like they would burst out of her one-size-too-small blouse if she breathed too hard.
She finally agreed but said they had to run up to Cloverleaf and get something out of layaway. That worked for Cojack because he had to make a quick run. He produced a bankroll, peeling off a crisp hundred. “Get the room after you handle your business,” he said, handing Mesha the money.
“Anywhere specific, baby?” she asked in a sexy and drawn out tone.
“Anyplace with a pool.”
Days Inn was located directly across from Chesterfield Towne Center. Mason and the girls were already in the pool when Cojack arrived. The foursome played around in the water for over an hour, dunking each other and simply enjoying themselves. Cojack and Mesha were the first to leave. He was answered at the expression on the white woman's face as he exited with a rock-hard penis. Her face turned a reddish pink and she started rubbing her neck as if she had become hot. He and Mesha laughed all the way to their room.
Inside, no time was wasted as Cojack and Mesha stripped themselves bare as if they couldn't wait another second. He rained soft, heated kisses on her neck and then laid her across the bed. Mesha looked in awe at his large penis. It seemed to have expanded a few inches since their last session. After ten minutes of foreplay, Cojack propped her legs on his shoulders. With her pretty manicured feet resting on his collarbone, he commenced to stroke her nice and slow.
Almost two hours later, Mesha had experienced three major orgasms, a record breaker for her. Cojack was sweating like a Hebrew slave and hadn't climaxed once. What the hell was his problem?
“Please come, baby,” she begged. “You killin’ me.” There was no response as he turned her slippery body over like a pancake and began pounding her from behind. Twenty minutes later, Cojack said fuck it and faked his orgasm, collapsing on top of her. Soaked in each other's ecstasy, she looked at him nearly out of breath. “Did you come?”
“Yeah,” he responded between breaths, lying through his teeth.
“Oh my God. Damn,” she uttered and turned to him with a surprised expression. “You ain't never fucked me like that before. Have you been drinking or something?” He nodded, tired and drained, lying again. Luckily, it was a room with double beds because the bed they had fucked on was destroyed. Thirty minutes later, after regaining his strength, Cojack led her into the shower and picked up where they left off.
SIX
THE ROOM SEEMED to spin in front of Cojack as he sat in the corner of Pier 7 Night Club watching the dance floor. He had just left the VIP section after buying out the bar. Now he was standing close by the restroom, feeling like he'd puke any minute. The fellas had set up so much pussy for after hours that it was hard to pick and choose.
Cojack felt so twisted after leaving the restroom that he changed his mind and decided to call it a night. Plus he felt strange and very uneasy. He had a paranoid feeling that he couldn't dismiss. Maybe it was just being in the company of so many strangers. Or maybe he was just stoned out of his fucking mind. At any rate it was time to go. Everyone stayed back except Mason, who wanted to make sure his man got home safe.
Cojack felt more alert once the fresh air hit him. A lot of party-goers stood around in the parking lot, goofing around and passing time. As they proceeded on their long journey to the car, their attention quickly turned to a dispute fifteen yards away between two men and a female. Everyone in hearing distance tuned in as one young guy, obviously drunk, pulled out his penis and urinated a couple feet over from the pair.
“Ay man, you don't see the lady right here,” the other guy stated.
“So? Fuck that bitch! I gotta piss. Tell her to turn her head,” replied the young cat.
; “C'mon, baby, don't pay him no mind,” the woman suggested, tugging at her man's arm. He hesitated for a moment, staring at the youth.
“Got a problem or somethin', slim?” the youngster asked, zipping up his fly. He knew the man was pissed, but still, if he knew what was best for him, he'd take his girl and step.
“What!” the youngster barked, lifting up his shirt just enough for the other guy to see the pistol strapped to the side of his waist.
“I don't want no problem, man,” the older guy said, then turned to his woman. “Get in the car. Let's go.”
“Huh? That's what I thought,” the drunk said as he turned and walked off. Suddenly, the sound of a gun being cocked brought him to a halt. The young drunk never got chance to pull his pistol.
Boom! The overconfident youngster was dead after the first bullet slammed through his brain. The last three were simply for general principle. The deafening vibrations echoed through the entire parking lot, sending people ducking for cover.
“Oh shit! Did you see that?” Cojack asked in disbelief, staring at the speeding car as the guy and his woman fled the scene.
Mason shook his head and replied, “I ain't see shit. C'mon, let's get the fuck outta here.” They scurried through the parking lot, glancing at the riddled body stretched between two cars. After pulling off, they wound up out on the Ave, shooting dice.
The block was nearly deserted except for five or six young hustlers at the top of the corner getting that early-morning cash.
Dukey, a veteran in the projects who used to get money back in the mid-eighties, waved the Lexus down, flashing a bankroll, hollering, “What the dice hittin’ fo?” The stranger he had with him was a dopehead, but he had a pocket full of cash. It was two in the morning and these cats had been going at it for an hour straight. Mason stood on the curb smoking a blunt while watching for the rollers.