The Legend of Johnny Hustle: Crown Me King

by Zach Tate

  The Legend of Johnny Hustle

  Crown Me King

  (Part 2)

  Publisher’s Note

  The Legend of Johnny Hustle – Crown Me King

  Copyright © 2016 Zach Tate

  Printed and bound in the United States of America. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the Web-without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Although the author and publisher have made every effort to ensure the accuracy and completeness of information contained in this book, we assume no responsibility for errors, inaccuracies, omissions, or any inconsistency herein.

  THE IMPRINT

  Visit us online:

  www.TheOfficialImprint.com

  www.Facebook.com/TheImprintMedia

  www.Twitter.com/TheImprintMedia

  Instagram: TheOfficialImprint

  Book 2

  The Lovers

  Loving someone and pleasing someone, are two different things.

  Jerry Jampolski

  10

  Roxy

  When I reached 43rd Street on Seventh Avenue, I didn’t make the left at the corner. I wasn’t going back to the Carter. I kept walking straight ahead. I walked so fast I nearly jogged. I needed a place to stay. With the amount of cash that I had on stash, I could have picked the Four Seasons, the Plaza, or the Hemsley Palace. But I knew other hustlers called those places home. I wanted a place close to Times Square, but it had to be a safe place to lay low. My trek ended at the Marriott Marquise.

  The expansive hotel was a major step up from the Carter. I was hot with the police, and I knew they could always come back to see me. With Mimi gone, I had no reason to be there. The time had come for a change of environment, and a change in hustles.

  I walked up to the check-in desk and was treated with major respect. It had been awhile, but one of the muscle bound security men recognized me from the time I had come to see Brave Dave. It was only a few months since that day, but Dave had allowed himself to slip and fall in more ways than one. That Crack had his mind off balance. One day while snatching an old lady’s purse, Dave ran onto Broadway. A speeding cab broke half of the bones in his body. By the time I moved into the Marriott, he had moved into Bellevue Hospital. For a professional thief to turn into a purse-snatcher was disrespect to the hustle. The second rule Yoda told me was to feed off of those who could afford it.

  I asked the hotel desk clerk what a decent suite cost per day. The man in the tight tux with the black dyed hair strands that did a poor job of covering his bald spot, twisted his slim mustache. “Sir, the fee is four hundred dollars, plus expenses.”

  Instantly I dropped five grand on the counter. After I did a few things I planned on staying put for ten days.

  Once I received my computerized room key, I walked out to the side of the hotel to find a baggage handler. A young Puerto Rican man wearing a beige jacket, brown polyester pants, and a shiny gold nametag, stood there. I walked up to him, handed him a $100 bill, and told him to follow me. With no hesitation, he pulled the cart. He thought we were going to my car, but I crossed the street, heading down Seventh Avenue. He continued to follow. Working in New York, I’m sure he had received crazier requests.

  I feared that the police were parked somewhere close to the Carter. When I reached the New York Times building, I stopped my new hired help. I handed him the keys to my room in the Carter. I told him to find Lee, and for the two of them to load my clothes onto the cart. I then doubled back and walked up to 44th Street. I made a left and went to Eighth Avenue, heading to the strip-club.

  When I walked into the bar, Roxy had just stepped on stage in a black thong with a matching bikini top. She wore a long brunette wig, with tall white knee-high boots. Tell Me If It’s Me You Want, by Keith Sweat played from the ceiling.

  Roxy stepped up to the center of the stage, did a split, and moved closer to the audience while doing her floor work. As soon as she opened her legs, I grabbed her left leg. The show was over. I slid her off stage. Impulsively, she pulled back her other leg to kick me with her chrome spiked heel, but stopped when the spotlight revealed my face. Instantly, all resistance came to an end.

  “Baby, where we going?” she asked over the music and howls of the lustful crowd.

  “Let’s go,” was all I said.

  She let go of my hand, dashed through a doorframe of beads, and returned with a small purse. The crowd was getting wild, but Roxy followed me when I walked out of the club.

  Living in New York City, it’s no big deal to see a half-naked woman walking down the streets. It was a whole other thing when that woman had a perfect dark-chocolate body, and wore nothing except spiked heels and a thong. I walked a few steps ahead of her. From 43rd Street to 45th Street, Roxy walked behind me half-naked in the cold October chill. She didn’t ask a question or have a care in the world. All she knew was that her man was leading her somewhere, and she trusted him enough to follow.

  $$$

  I stopped at a Duane Read pharmacy on Broadway. While picking up cosmetics, Roxy and I walked around the store shopping like a regular couple. A small crowd gathered. I could have sold tickets. Instead, I lifted two wallets from the men who gawked at Roxy. In the same store, I paid for all of our purchases with the credit card of the lusting man who was a few customers behind us. While we were at the cashier, his eyes were stuck on each side of Roxy’s thong.

  After our purchases, Roxy and I stepped into the Marriott with authority. All eyes were on us. I had to remind myself that I was supposed to be low-key. As I took the elevator up to the JW suite, an elderly couple stepped in. “Sir—Ma’am, what floor please?”

  As the old man lusted off Roxy’s thong, the old lady told me the floor. When we reached their floor, the man handed me a $20.00 tip. My hustling skills had finally arrived.

  Stepping into the suite, we entered a lounge area with black leather sofa’s, gold wallpaper, and beige carpeting. A Mini bar sat to the left of the entrance. The bedroom was to the right, and an expansive bathroom was off to the side. I was home.

  After wrapping a gold goose down comforter over her naked body, Roxy got undressed and started the shower. As I removed my suit jacket, there was a knock at the door. My clothes had arrived.

  My Latino helper placed the trunk in the lounge area. He told me his name and where he could be found if I needed any help in the future. I escorted him out, and without hesitation, Roxy dropped the blanket and unpacked my clothes. That was the thing that made Roxy appealing. Before I had a chance to ask her to do something, she thought a step ahead and was already pleasing her man. She began to undress me. With each layer of clothes she removed, she sucked and nibbled on that part of my body. There was no rush to her movements. She moved with a level of grace that told me that she knew we had all night to be together.

  Naked, sucking on each other’s body parts we stepped into the steamy bathroom. Before long, we were in the shower. Slowly, I lathered her body, with soap. I then played with the soap on her erect, black, grape sized nipples.

  “Damn, Johnny, you so good to me,” she moaned while nibbling on my ear.

  I picked up her feet and deeply massaged them as I cleaned each toe. I used the hand towel to pick up the soap and carefully scrubbed her middle as I twirled my lubricated fingers on her swollen clit. She reached for the ceiling and my mouth sunk to her nipples. While rapidly twirling my middle finger inside of her wetness, she exploded in
my hands.

  “Oooo, baby, please. Please!” she begged. Knowing that it would only make her desire increase, I denied her what she wanted.

  With a firm erection, I stepped out the shower. When she faced me, she worked her way down my body with the dry towel. Seductively she pleaded, “Come on baby, please, please let me do it.”

  I gave into her pleading. Like a calf to her mother’s tit, she fed off of my erection—taking all of me into her hot inviting mouth. She sucked on me with a hunger that told me that my pleasure was her pleasure. After she slowly teased, I exploded. Roxy didn’t come up for air. Instead, her eyes opened, determined to see me pleased until I went soft in her mouth.

  I pulled out of her mouth with the intentions of teasing her. When she followed me to the bed, I laid her on her stomach. I gently pushed her body flat so I could lubricate her soft skin and massage her from head to toe. I had some love to make, and I was way overdue.

  “Give it to me, baby,” she moaned. “Please give it to me.”

  Her bones cracked with pleasure. She was aroused by my every touch. After erasing her tension, I reached for a condom and slowly penetrated her from behind. It took a lot of digging before I hit gold.

  “Cum for me, baby! Cum for me,” she pleaded. Roxy wasted her time. I was schooled on how to perfect pleasure.

  I stroked deeper and deeper. When I reached as far as my pleasure tool could go, I felt her love muscles contracting—holding on to my shaft for dear life. Again she came. I was about to get rough, but someone knocked at my door.

  I wasn’t expecting anyone, and no one should have even known that I was there. I looked down at Roxy; she was grateful for the love break. She jumped up and handed me a robe. She then walked to the door naked. When the door opened, I received a surprise.

  The Black woman from Brave Dave’s hotel suite pushed a food cart into my room. Roxy’s eyebrows touched, probably wondering when I ordered room service. I shrugged my shoulders, wondering if she was the one who did the ordering. The woman closed the door.

  “Compliments of the staff,” she uttered while her eyes searched the room. Then she stood like an obedient servant. “You mind if I speak to you for a moment?”

  I thought I was Goldie the pimp from the movie The Mack. I had Roxy at the door naked, and another attractive woman bringing me food and wanting to speak to me. I stood, and the soundtrack to the movie played in my mind. I didn’t have the slightest idea what the woman wanted to talk about, so I dropped my hands in front of me and said, “Speak.”

  “My name is Gloria.” Her mid-length hair was harshly brushed and unruly. “I know you don’t know me, but I was one of the women who was with Mr. Brave, remember?”

  Mister Brave? I asked myself. Then I thought of the way Dave had those women under his spell. A woman who loves a man will call him anything that he wants. I had to admire that, so I nodded and she continued.

  “He took care of the staff real well.” She looked to the ground and blushed. “Some more than others. All of us employees from the basement took care of him. We all heard how you came down here doing the impossible so soon. And I don’t know if you’re interested, but a lot of us want to know if you’re staying long, or if this is a short visit? I brought these things up here to help you decide. When you’re ready to discuss business let me know? I’m always downstairs waiting.”

  She glared at Roxy’s naked body, seductively licked her lips, and then looked at me. “I’m here for what-ever you need.”

  I nodded for Gloria to leave. When Roxy closed the room door behind her, I told her to remove the silver lids and the towel that was over the ice bucket.

  A Maine lobster, buttered shrimp, and a stuffed flounder dish were on three platters. A beef brisket with a Cornish hen was on another platter. Baked potatoes, asparagus tips, and a large tossed salad were on the side. A bottle of Freixenet sparkling wine was in the ice bucket.

  “She was cute,” Roxy stated while sucking on an ice cube, and distracting me.

  “Oh yeah, what does that mean?” I asked while looking over the food.

  “What you think it mean? She’s cute.” She saw the shocked expression on my face. “What? You jealous?” she stated while licking butter off of her finger.

  “I don’t get jealous.” I hoped she believed it.

  “Yeah, right. Y’all dudes kill me with that,” she replied while pushing the food cart closer to the bed.

  “I mean, why should I be jealous of another woman?” I stated, trying to kill the lame within.

  “Oh, you doubt I could have her if I wanted her?” Roxy asked while looking me in the eyes.

  My ego was bruised, but I refused to show it. In a deflated voice I said, “I didn’t know you got down like that.”

  “That’s right. There’s a lot you never took the time to find out.” She bounced her naked leg on the bed and sat on it.

  I didn’t know how to respond, so I did what any man would do.

  “Well, let me give you a reminder of why you don’t need a woman,” I said while taking off my robe to reveal my stiffness still covered with the condom that I wasn’t finished using.

  As my fingers sought out her lower cavities, I pinched and fondled her breasts. My tongue did a dance on her firm nipples. Her breathing got heavier while her crevice dripped onto my fingers. I then removed my fingers, and sunk myself deep inside.

  In a shallow whisper, she begged, “Oooh, please, make love to me.” When I reached her deepest crevice, she clawed my back, slowing me down.

  I made sure there was no space that my love muscle didn’t stimulate. I sucked on Roxy’s neck, and slid my hands under her. Deeply, I sunk my shaft so she could feel my passion. I lifted her left leg and put it onto my shoulder. Aggressively, I sunk in a little deeper as I hit her spot. She yelled out while reaching her third orgasm. Simultaneously, I reached my first. I didn’t want to stop her stimulation. I received a lot of pleasure from taking her to the edge. While my erection recuperated, I sank two fingers deep inside of her and folded them back until I reached her G-spot.

  Slowly, I made circles at her pleasure zone. Quickly, I shifted gears and increased my movements while she moaned and sucked and played with her own nipples. We moved rapidly together while Roxy humped my two fingers. As my finger tips sunk deeper, her body moved closer, and then I felt what I needed to feel.

  “Ahhh shhhheeiit. I’m never leaving your ass,” She yelled out while cumming.

  In the middle of the bed, I mounted her again. I lifted her so she was up facing me. While I was on my knees she straddled me. As I sunk my newly stiffened cock deep inside of her, her closed blue eyes told me that she was pleased. Quickly riding me into ecstasy, her quivering body took control.

  Roxy was exhausted after we made love. Together, we laid with sweat pouring down our bodies. Our physical exchange was more than raw sex. The intimacy we encountered signified that things had definitely changed.

  $$$

  “We been together for awhile now and you ain’t never asked anything about me.” Roxy told me, as we sat in the hot tub after dinner.

  “I never had a reason to ask. We have an understanding and I’m not trying to sweat you like I’m your man.”

  She slammed her hand into the bubbly water and said, “That’s what I’m talking about. You are my man. I never had a man, and I’m doing everything I can do to show you that. I only go all out for you ‘cause that’s what I was taught to do.”

  I thought of the last time she ran that line down to me. I figured it was time for me to get to the bottom of who she really was.

  “You been doing a good job too, so let’s not complicate things. Just tell me, why you think like that?”

  She held my stiff member in her hand. “Give me your word that you not gonna judge me, and I can still be your woman after I tell you?”

  Roxy wasn’t dumb, but she failed to realize that she was dealing with a con man. “You got it.”

  “Okay, I’ma be straight up, so
don’t act all crazy when I tell you.” Her back stiffened as she sat up in the tub. She took a deep breath, and on the exhale said, “Aw’ight, I’m from School Street Projects up in Yonkers. Things was foul at home, so I ran away at nine years old. I came down here, I don’t know why, but I stayed at the Covenant House down the block on fortieth until I was like twelve. Then I started bugging out after that.”

  Her whole composure changed. She had a saddened look when she continued. “You don’t know Johnny, I was bouncing from the Covenant House to any place that I could rest my head at night. I lost my virginity in a back seat of a car to a pimp on Eleventh Avenue who bought me hot chocolate and a donut. By the time I was sixteen I was a hooker, a junkie, and sleeping under benches in the damn subway. Back then I was wild’en yo.”

  The tears fell from her eyes and I wiped them as she trembled. While I held her closer to me, she tearfully said, “That cocaine had me going. All my friends, plans, and everything I did was just to get high so I could escape my life. I don’t even remember half of the men I had. Then I met Janice. She was this dyke chick who took care of me and stopped me from getting high. She was the only person who ever told me I was worth something, or that I was beautiful. I had a complex. I’m so black, but she made me feel good, you know? So I started turning tricks for her, doing porno, and just straight up being a whore ‘cause I thought she really loved me.”

  The tears flowed from her eyes. She tapped her chest with her long blue painted nails when she said, “I mean, she was the only one who told me good shit my whole life. But then I wanted to stop being wild, she started really messing with my head. I had to leave her alone.”

  She exhaled and got herself together. “I started stripping and robbing cats a year ago on my twentieth birthday. I ain’t never make love to a man until I met you. It’s like you love me, but you never told me. You know what I mean? It’s just the way your body talks to me when we make love, its got me all messed up.”