By the way these niggas are eye-raping me, I’ve upgraded Bishop in their eyes. It’s cool. That’s the way it is no matter whose arm I’m hanging on.
“C’mon, cuz.You gonna bet or what?” one huffing nigga barks across the table.
“My bad,” the nigga says, still peeping me as Bishop leads me through the room. “Y’all save a seat for me. I gotta handle some business before I jump in the game and take y’all’s loot.”
I lift a brow at the mountain of Benjamins on the table. Muthafuckas are balling out of control back here.
“I hear you talkin’,” Red says, checking out my ass as we walk past the table.
As we go, I do a body count and check all entrance points. “Where we going, baby?”
“A spot where I can get a better taste of that pie.” He pulls me in close so that he can suck on my ear.
I have to admit, I’m feeling anxious about this hit. Bishop’s dick is already riding up the back of my ass while he’s pinching on my titties. He leads me to another door.When he opens it, I see it’s a small bathroom with one sink, a toilet, and a floor littered with paper towels and toilet paper. A few inches melt off my smile.
“Over here and sit down,” he tells me.
What—on the toilet?
To help me out, Bishop hikes up my dress and tugs on my panties.
All right, freak. Whatever you say. I remove my clutch tucked under my arm and place it on the sink. Once I’m squat on the toilet, Bishop rushes to unzip and peel his pants off his hips. Immediately afterwards, the prettiest brown dick I’ve ever seen springs up and taps me on the chin.
“Say hello to my big friend,” Bishops chuckles.
“Well, hello.” I lick my lips and wrap my hand around his thick dick. For starters, I press a feather kiss over its one eye and then slowly roll my tongue around the tip. “You are a sweet muthafucka, too.”
“Hmm, huh.” Greedily, he thrusts his hips one time, and I open my mouth and slide his shit in real slow.
“Awwwww. Fuuuucck. Yeah. That’s what I’m talking about.” Bishop gathers my silky black hair up into one hand and then wraps it into his fist so that he can have a better view of my skills. To let him know he ain’t dealing with an amateur, I take the shit to the balls, squeeze my throat muscles and let him grind for a full twenty seconds.
“Awwww.You sweet bitch, you.Yeah.” His face twists and, if I’m not mistaken, a tear rolls down the side of his face.
The second I spring off the dick, I lift it and T-bag his balls while sneaking a finger into his back door. Most niggas don’t let chicks know how much they like that shit, but I know that even the hardest muthafucka got a little bitch in them. Bishop’s ass ain’t no different, because I watch his eyes roll to the back of his head.
“You like that, big daddy?”
“Yeeeeesss.Yeeeesss. Do that shit.”
With pleasure. I roll back onto the dick and go down deep until his salty precum dribbles down my throat. “Uhmmmm. Delicious.”
“Yeah? You like that shit?” he asks me.
“Uhm. Hmmm,” I moan.
Bishop dips his knees and slides a middle finger in between my legs. My entire clit is honey-coated. “Look at you. You’re ready for a nigga.”
“Uhm. Hmm,” is all I can manage ’cause, no lie, the dick is good.
A second finger goes in.
A third.
Fourth.
His dick springs out of my mouth so that he can squat down further. “Lean back and spread your legs.
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I ease back on the seat and point my legs east and west.
“Scoot down.”
Like a good soldier, I follow directions—accidently flushing the toilet as I go.
Bishop plants his chin in between the U of the toilet and starts eating my pussy like a starving child from a third-world country. “Fuck, nigga. Fuck.” I grab the back of his head and hold on for dear life. I didn’t know these fucking slobs got down like this shit. My toes curl up out of my red-bottom pumps while I simultaneously grease his face up real good. In no time, I’m nutting all over the fucking place and can’t catch my breath.
“Stand your fine ass up,” he commands, climbing back onto his feet and stroking his shit.
My fuckin’ legs don’t seem to be working right and it takes me a few seconds to do what he says.
“Turn around,” he says, but then spins me before I have a chance to do it on my own. “Hands on the wall—wait, naw. Let’s move over here.” Bishop drags me over in front of the mirror. “Grab the sink.”
I give him a sexy smile in the mirror as I follow his direction.
“Aw. Shit. Look at this fine ass right here.” He whips his hand down and gives my shit a hard SMACK! “Damn, the man upstairs was on some good shit when he made your fine ass.” He makes another SMACK on the opposite cheek before spreading them open in opposite directions. “Oh, yeah.”
Bishop sandwiches his cock between my ass and rubs it up and down so that it probably looks like a fat-ass sausage in a toasted bun. “Where have you been all my life, Sweet Pussy?”
“All that matters is that I’m here now,” I tell him, wiggling my ass. I ain’t one for being teased.
Bishop meets my gaze in the mirror while one side of his lips curls. “Let me see if you can handle all this good dick.”
“You gonna wrap it, baby?”
“Why? You dirty?”
“No, but—”
“Fuck that. I wanna feel every inch of that good pussy.” He grabs his shit and eases his fat mushroom head in so exquisitely I have to clamp my damn teeth together. “Aw. There it goes,” he brags, watching my expression.
I try to keep it cool, but that shit is hard to do when a nigga is stretching you this good. He keeps taking his time with it too: inch by slow-ass inch. By the time he fills me up, I swear his dick is laying on my tonsils.
“Ride,” he commands, and then gives each of my ass cheeks a hard slap. SMACK! SMACK!
Bishop remains still as I glide up and then push back. He leans forward and nibbles on my shoulder. “That’s it, Sweet Pussy.Take your time.”
Humph. He don’t know that I got something for his ass.
He has no muthafuckin’ idea. Slow jamming is only good for so long. Before long, I’m riding like a cowgirl from the Old West. This slob got some good shit. I forget myself and damn near rip the sink out of the wall.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Any minute Bishop is gonna holler, “Yippy-Ki-Yay.” I’m sure of it.
Two nuts shoot up from my right toe and explode in my clit, back to back. Instead of his ass, I’m the bitch screaming in this muthafucka.
“Yeah.Yeah. Give it all to daddy.” He fists my hair again and yanks until I’m staring up at the ceiling. I explode again and start hollering out jibberish.
Bishop springs out of my pussy and fires off white bullets down the crack my ass. “Ooooh, yeah.” He glazes his dick up with his own cum while he goes back to rubbing his sausage dick between my buns. “Oh, fuck. I think I’m in love, Sweet Pussy.”
While I’m struggling to catch my breath, I twist around and smile down at his chocolate éclair-looking dick. “That makes two of us.”
BANG! BANG! BANG!
“Y’all gonna be fuckin’ in there all day?” someone shouts from the other side. “Some niggas gotta shit.”
Instantly, Bishop is hot. “Muthafucka, if you don’t back away from that door, I’ma bust a cap in your ass!”
“Whatever, B. Ain’t no reason to get all swoll.You sharing or what?”
No this nigga didn’t!
Bishop jerks toward the door and snatches it open, dick swinging. “Nigga, I ain’t playing with you. Get the fuck on.”
“A’ight.” That red-headed nigga holds his hands up, but sneaks a peek around Bishop’s shoulder to smile at me. “Goddamn, nigga. Is she still alive? We thought you killed her.”
“Get the hell on with
that shit.”
Behind Red, the niggas around the poker table crack up. “Y’all niggas need to grow the fuck up,” Bishop snaps and then slams the door in his boy’s face. “Sorry about that,” he says, still pissed.
“Don’t be.” I wink and slide my arms around his shoulder.
His frown flips upside down and he grins at me like a puppy. “What’s your real name, Sweet Pussy?”
I hesitate.
“Oh. It’s like that?” He chuckles and turns the water on in the sink. “Must mean you got a man.”
“Nah. I’m a free agent, baby.”
“Is that right?” He washes his dick in the sink. “Then maybe I can be your man.”
I laugh. “You just met me.”
“You just fucked me.”
“That’s because you’re cute . . . and you have a big dick.”
“And you’re fine . . . and have the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted. You never know when I might have another sweet tooth.”
We grin at each other and something passes between us—something unexpected. “Ja’nay,” I confess like a dumb bitch.
Bishop nods. “Ja’nay, pleased to meet you. I’m Juvon—but you can call me ‘your new man.’”
I grin like a fool.
My man tucks himself back into his pants and then reaches for my arm. “Come on. Let me properly introduce you to my niggas out here.”
“Uhm. Give me a couple of minutes to clean myself up,” I say.
Bishop’s face splits with a smile as he walks over to me and peppers my neck with kisses. “Take your time, Ja’nay.”
A warm rush races over me while he walks out the door. Pull yourself together. I lock the door behind him, grab my clutch off the floor, pull out my cell phone, and text my girl, Shariffa.
23
Shariffa
“So how long do you think that Qiana’s going to keep that baby she cut out of Python’s Baby’s Momma?” a drunken voice floats over to me from the other booth. My ears immediately perk up.
“Girl, I don’t know,” the second girl says. “Every day I wait for them to find that dead bitch she cut that kid out of and splash it all over the news. It ain’t gonna be hard for niggas round our way to put two and two together and start eyeballin’ us sideways.”
“We should have stopped her.”
“Yeah, and we would be lying right next to that high yellow bitch just like Tyneshia’s ass, too.”
“Well if she gets caught, she better not snitch our names. She gets what she gets for dealing with that LeShelle bitch. We’re only catching a break because that crazy bitch is laid up in the hospital.”
“Shhh. Keep your voice down.”
LeShelle? I frown and try to put the pieces of the conversation together but can’t get them to fit. Something about LeShelle and a baby being cut out of one of Python’s baby mommas? Why the fuck would Leshelle be fucking with a couple of young Flowers? I can’t even see that shit happening.
My phone vibrates against my lap, pulling me back to what the fuck I’m supposed to be doing. “It’s about time,” I mutter when my cell phone vibrates in my left hand. I turn my back from the crowded bar inside Da Club and peek down at the text from Trigger.
“I bet her ass broke him off a piece first,” Brika gripes from over my shoulder. “Did you see them grabbing each other’s shit off the jump?”
I roll my eyes. Brika needs to squash this jealousy bullshit. I don’t have the time for it. “She counts five niggas. One door with a Remington bolt lock and four windows.” I shake my head. “She also says there’s a mountain of cash stacked back there, too.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. Cash moves everything around me,” Brika says.
From my right, Shacardi cuts in, “Money makes my clit hard.”
I slip my phone back into my purse, and then loop the strap so that it hangs diagonally across my body. “Let’s do this shit. Brika, you come with me. Shacardi, y’all know what to do.”
Jaqorya bobs her head. “Hurry up. I’m cooking up in here under this wig. I don’t know how some of these fake bitches do it.” To prove her point, she scratches the side of her head and her blond hair wiggles on top of her head.
I feel her pain. My shit is tryna squeeze my brain out, too. “C’mon.” I grab Brika by the arm as she slips into the character of a drunk bitch who can barely hold herself up. “I got you, girl. Let’s get you home.” We stumble through the crowd on our way out the door. A few bitches catch an attitude as we bump and stomp on a few toes.
“Oh, God. I think I’m going to be sick,” Brika moans. Her toned legs wiggle like Jell-O.
“Sloppy bitches,” a muthafucka snickers as we slip past the bouncers.
“Fuck you,” I snap, giving him the bird.
“Oooh.” Brika moans and hikes up her skirt like she’s about to piss right there on the sidewalk.
“Whoa.Yo!” A bouncer thunders toward us. “Y’all chickens need to get the fuck on with that bullshit.”
“We’re going.We’re going. Fuck, nigga.You ain’t got to get all swoll.” I wrap my arm around Brika, pull her back up and then help her move on down the sidewalk. I take a quick peek to my left and spot Crunk still slumped down low in the getaway car and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Our eyes connect for a split moment, long enough for me to mentally telepath for his ass to calm the fuck down.
I don’t know why we signed him up for this job. He doesn’t have any experience doing this shit. At the same time, Lynch would have shit a brick if I told him what I was up to tonight. I’m tired of pussy-footing. I want to prove that we can strike at the heart of these muthafuckas.
Brika and I turn the corner toward the back and spot one more mountain-size soldier standing guard at the back door.
My girl ups her game, moaning louder and tripping out of one of her shoes.
The guard dog spots us and glares wearily. As we draw nearer, he shakes his head. “Nah. Nah. You bitches are gonna have to back the fuck up,” he barks, settling his hand onto the cannon he got at his hip.
Shit.
Brika plunges on. “Oh. I’m going to be sick.”
“You’re going to be dead if you don’t back on up away from this door.”
Committed to the role, Brika throw up chunks all over this nigga’s Air Jordans Limited Editions.
“What the fuck?” His hand comes away from his hip as he jumps back. “Bitch, do you know how much I paid for these shoes?”
Without missing a beat, I come up with my gat drawn. “Here’s your fuckin’ refund.” I tap the trigger once and then watch the side of his face split open after the muffled shot. Muthafucka drops like a stone—but in front of the door.
“Fuck!” I want to kick my own ass. Now we got to try and move this big nigga. “Grab his feet. I’ll get his arms.”
Brika frowns. “You sure? He’s like four hundred pounds—eight hundred now that he’s dead weight.”
“Unless you got a fucking crane parked out here somewhere, we gotta do what we gotta do. Now come the fuck on!”
Brika spares me the rest of her bullshit and grabs Black-zilla’s legs. The first couple of tries, the muthafucka doesn’t move.
“I don’t believe this shit.” If we don’t get moving, we’re gonna fuck this hit up.
“Roll his ass,” Brika says, rushing over to get into position behind his hips.
The shit sounds good to me so I drop his arms and slide my hands beneath his back. “One . . . two . . . three—push,” I hiss.
Muthafucka nearly throws my back out. It’s like tryna push a Mack truck up a steep hill. After a couple heaves and a heel snapping off my right shoe, the muthafucka rolls forward and flops on his face. “Again,” I order. Huffing and puffing, I lose the other heel, but once we get another good roll, I’m willing to charge this shit to the game.
“That right there is ridiculous,” Brika says, looking down at the fat man in disgust.
I agree with her, but it’s not the
rolls of fat that catches my attention. It’s the man’s cannon strapped on his hip. “Oooh, baby. Come to momma.” I tuck my own shit back to my thigh holster and reach for the sexy gat that has my ass hypnotized.
Brika looks green as shit for not having spotted it first. “You through shopping? We got to do this shit before we leave our girls twisting in the wind.”
She’s right. I turn and level my new best friend at the door. When I pull the trigger, there’s a loud explosion and I’m nearly knocked off my broken heels.
Brika charges through the room a second before me. “C’Z UP, NIGGAS!” She fires off warning shots to let them know that we mean business.
POW! POW! POW!
I flow right behind her, firing the cannon at a redheaded nigga with a listening problem. He goes for his weapon. I unload the cannon.This time I handle the kickback, but watch in amazement at the size of the hole in the center of his chest. Hell, it even takes him a second to realize that his ass is dead before keeling over on the poker table piled with money.
“What the fuck? Have you bitches lost your mind?” Bishop bolts to his feet, but then gets the shock of his life when our girl Trigger presses her .38 to the side of his head.
“Slow your roll, big daddy. Me and my cousins here are just gonna relieve you of some of these Benjamins.
POP! POP! POP!
Jaqorya and Shacardi are setting it off in the club to get the chaos going.
Bishop’s narrowed gaze shifts to Trigger. “You set me up?”
She smiles. “It’s just business, boo. Money over everything.”
Brika’s jealousy surges. “Y’all fucked?”
I don’t have time for no soap-opera bullshit. “Grab the money and let’s roll,” I tell them.
Brika and Trigger get to work. Each pull a garbage bag out of their purses while keeping their gats trained on different targets.
Every nigga in here looks hot to death.
“You bitches don’t know who the fuck you’re messing with.” Bishop’s rage makes his face ten shades darker.
“Of course we do.You’re Lucifer’s lil brother, ain’t you?” I ask, knowing that the shit is the other way around. Muthafucka’s face looks like an eggplant now.
Gangsta Divas Page 14