“Nigga you jacked my man,” Stevey D said pulling out his strap at exactly the same time I pulled out Jesus, cocked it and carefully aimed it at his chest. Shock registered in his face, I saw it in his eyes. I walked out into the streets in order to see where the shooter was. I saw him squatting down with a gun in his hand. When he saw me he stood. The other three cats were gingerly walking toward me.
“Yo, my nigga. I ain’t jack nobody! That chicken head bitch lying,” I said looking back and forth.
One thing about power, whether it be the United States Army or an army of thugs embattled in urban warfare, power will only acknowledge counter power, and thus, gangsters are born. I positioned myself between two cars, gun still level at Stevey D, and prepared for a blood bath. Kill or be killed. This had all the ingredients for murder and I honestly had no intention of dying alone. I was outnumbered about nine to one.
“Nigga you got a lot of balls coming in here. You could get fucked up. Lose your life,” Stevey D threatened.
“Look playa, I ain’t lookin for no drama,” I said respectfully, but my body language made it perfectly clear I was prepared to throw some hot balls with Jesus.
“Want me to shoot dat nigga?” I heard someone say with courage that they did not feel, or else they would have shot without asking permission.
“Naw,” Stevey D said, raising his hand as they inched closer trying to surround me. Shit was starting to get out of hand like I was going to have to fire a shot.
“Look man, lemme talk wit you,” Stevey D said, inching closer.
“I ain’t tryin to rap right now,” I said easing backward. Them niggas wanted to pounce on me like a pack of wolves.
“Yo, your name Stevey D?” I asked, trying to keep the fear out my voice. He did not answer. “I’ma break bread witcha.”
My voice was a plea bargin that hung in the air, as the seconds of my life tucked in the crevice of my mind. Any moment I was expecting shots to ring out.
“In a few days I’ma come back and give you something to make money off of,” I said, as I eased into the streets, my gun still leveled at his chest. A car came screeching to a halt nearly missing me. Nina Brown watched me intensely, eyes glazed with suspense. Ghetto chicks see this kind of stuff all their lives, gunplay, killed or be killed. I was just trying to stay alive the only way I knew how, keeping it gangsta!
I continued to walk backward, gun pointed at Stevey D. The silent message was if I was going to die, I fully intended to take someone with me. Once I felt that I was at a safe distance, I took off into a trot. They did not pursue me, and if they did, I took so many shortcuts and back ways they would have needed bloodhounds to keep up with me.
*****
The next morning I sat by the pool in one of them uncomfortable ass chairs, smoking a cigarette, thinking about Trina touching me for my stash and what I was going to do with her ass if I ever caught her. The whole time I was watching white folks like a hungry lion trying to get close to his prey. I was just trying to pick one to rob. I was on my dick doing bad. After paying two hundred for rent, and giving Nina Brown the hundred dollar bill, I had less than two hundred dollars to my name.
I took a sip of the beer that I bought earlier at the poolside bar. It was hot, the sun was sweltering. I had my T-shirt wrapped around my head. I looked up into the blaring sunlight to see two gorgeous sistas strolling poolside headed straight for me. I thought I was seeing a mirage. One was wearing a leopard skin two piece thong bathing suit. Her body was sleek, wide hips, nice ass, pointed breasts, full with erect nipples, the kind that make men dribble.
I was sitting straight up in my seat now. Her friend was just as fine. She wore a stunning white french cut one piece bathing suit. It showed everything including her coochie lips and they were fat to death, and I stared wondering if all that was her down there. The symmetry of her body was God’s gift to a Black woman. Together the two women seemed to put on a show as the entire pool quieted. The one with the leopard skin suit looked just like Lisa Raye, sophisticated and sexy. I noticed that they were holding hands, then it dawned on me that they might be lovers, a lesbian couple, as they sashayed right up to me. This was the one moment in my life I was happy to be a Black man. The one with the leopard skin suit asked if they could sit next to me in the vacant chair. I looked up into the glaring sun between her legs; the gap in between her thighs caused an eclipse of the sun, all that hair running down her thighs. Thank God for lesbians! To this day I do not know why women shave down there. If Black women only knew how sexy it looked to brothas.
“Does a bear shit in the woods? Hell yeah ya’ll can sit down,” I said playfully. They giggled and took the seats next to me. I was instantly intoxicated by their sweet perfume. There’s something that intrigues the hell out of men to imagine two beautiful women fucking, especially these two chicks. I was feeling aroused just by their nearness and the scent of their perfume mingled with the air. We were the only Black people at the pool. I watched as little kids ran wild playing and occasionally splashing us with water. The adults lingered at the poolside covered with oil; white folks trying to get Black, torturing themselves for a suntan. I just ogled the two women like eye candy as they chatted and then turned to me.
“My name is Tomica, this is Evette,” the one with the leopard skin suit said.
“I’m Leonard,” I said dryly. Lust had me lock jawed so bad I could hardly lie with a straight face as I made up the fake name. I was feining on both these chicks.
The waiter came around and I offered to buy them drinks. Drinks that I really could not afford. Of course, being sistas they ordered the most expensive drinks. By dawn, I was drunk, and dead ass broke. For the past few hours the women had been acting real freaky. It was tormenting me to watch them feel on each other and occasionally kiss. My dick was hard as the concrete stairs of the swimming pool. Somehow watching them was like viewing an exotic X rated movie, only they were not naked, yet. At least that was what I was hoping.
Somehow, even in my semi-drunken stupor, I managed to keep my wits. I knew that good liquor makes for loose lips, but I had to spin my web in order for me to kick my game. I kept on talking, and they enjoyed my spiel rewarding me with laughter. The good thing about being a preacher’s son is, if needed, I could drop the street lingo and talk intelligent. I learned that in private school and in Sunday School also. I gave them some lame ass story about how I was a Florida State student that flunked out of school. They ate it up. For some reason it got quiet and for the first time, I ran out of words. They began to whisper. I heard Evette say, “Ask him.” Tomica gave me the once over like she really was not sure of what she wanted to say, or just how to say it, a look that said if she could peek inside my soul to see could I be trusted, she would. I just acted nonchalant to their whispers. A lone pigeon landed on the walkway a few feet away from us. It was dark outside except for the pool lights. The bird scurried around either lost or late as hell, trying to get home. Somehow I could relate to him. He ambled over to a folding chair and watched us.
“Leonard … Leonard!” Tomica called to me. My mind was elsewhere. I turned to her. She watched me intently before she spoke, “Evette and I have a proposition for you.”
I leaned forward, craning my neck, damn near falling out of the chair. Evette erupted in laughter. Tomica just made a face that said she thought I was stupid.
“Proposition?” I repeated scratching my head. They were watching me like hawks. My mind was full speed ahead, two beautiful women and a proposition? I placed both of my hands on my lap to hide my thoughts. Not to mention, that hairy-ass bulge between Tomica’s legs was driving me crazy. Lesbianism is about as erogenous as sex can get to a man’s mind. Like a feminine utopia.
“Follow us to our room,” Tomica said, with eyes lidded with a promise of sweetness. She stood turning her back to me. Her thong was missing somewhere in the mounds of her butt cheeks. As she helped Evette up, I watched her ass dance for me. How much torture can one man take by a twosome of s
cantly dressed lesbians in heat? I could see Evette through the gap between Tomica’s legs. She was watching me closely.
I played it off, acted naïve. Evette ate it up. I didn’t know what these two females had in store for me, but the excitement was mounting, like reading a good suspense novel.
The pigeon watched. The waiter, turned janitor, swept the deck of the swimming pool within inches of him. The women were whispering in conspiratorial tones as they walked into the lobby. I followed, enjoying the view from the back. For the first time I noticed the tiny mole on Tomica’s butt as she wrapped a towel around her waist. Up ahead at the elevator door, a family of white people were watching us as we approached. They looked like the Brady Bunch on vacation. I could tell they were not used to being around Black folks. Tomica and Evette were still talking in low tones. I whistled absent-mindedly as I looked around like I was fascinated with the décor of the hotel lobby. I was just trying to blend in and not establish eye contact with the white folks that were gawking at me. I was conscious that I was not wearing a shirt, it was wrapped around my head. I was drunk and horny. A little white girl was staring at me. She was no more than 12 years old. She was looking right at my crotch. I had an erection somewhere close to my knee.
The elevator door dinged open. We entered. The little girl was still leering at me. Tomica and Evette positioned themselves on both sides of the pudgy looking white man. He had rosy cheeks with a pleasant cherub face, with thinning hair on his shiny dome with a few strings of graying hair combed over the front, the way men do when they’re going bald and refuse to let it go. Just as the elevator door slowed to a stop, Evette turned and flung her arms around the white man, kissing and jabbering lunatically.
“Thank ya sir! Thank ya sir! Thank ya sir for freeing the slaves.” Kiss, kiss …
I watched in shock, mouth agape, but the old white dude looked to me like he might have been enjoying himself. His wife was furious as the rest of his family just looked on bemused, except for the little girl that had been watching me. She placed her hand over her face and giggled. Tomica wrestled Evette off the man and rushed out of the door as soon as they opened. Shoving Evette, she stopped and gestured with her hand, pointing her finger at her head indicating that Evette was crazy. “Excuse her sir, she’s on medication.” The white man just blushed like it wasn’t every day he was mauled by a beautiful sista.
Even if that had not been my stop when that door opened, I was fully intent on getting off that elevator; them two broads were acting strange.
I entered their large plush hotel room. It looked like a large warehouse, it was stocked full of everything. You name it, they had it. Everything from fur coats to twenty two inch rims. Wide screen televisions and clothes, clothes, clothes were everywhere from wall to wall. I looked around in awe trying to figure out how two women could have so much shit. Then it dawned on me, they were boosters. Professional thieves. It wasn’t uncommon in the hood for women to hustle to earn a good living off of stealing clothes and things.
Evette removed a wallet from underneath the towel she was wearing. It became clear that these broads were clever, a lot cleverer than I thought. While Evette acted as the decoy, Tomica relieved the mark of his wallet. I feigned like I did not know what was going on.
Tomica counted out money. I folded my arms across my chest. The room was cold. They had the air conditioner turned up sky high. Evette must have sensed my discomfort because she walked over to the air conditioner and turned it down.
“Chang! Chang!” Tomica said jovially, holding a fist full of bills in her hand. “Seven hundred dollars, from a fat square.” The women exchanged high fives and kissed lightly on the lips. Tomica winked slyly at Evette. She thought I did not notice.
“Go fix our nice friend here a drink,” Tomica said to Evette. The plot was about to thicken, I could tell by the way the two looked at each other they were up to something devious.
I remarked dumbly, “Ya’ll sure like to do a lot of shopping.” I made my words slur like I was drunk. Evette rolled her eyes as she moved toward me gracefully, wide hips swaying. She walked like maybe she could have been a model at one time. As she passed me the drink she never took her eyes off me.
“Have a seat.”
I looked around and shrugged my shoulders. There was no place for me to sit, and I couldn’t even find a spot on the floor. The place was packed with merchandise. My mind was now calculating numbers, figures in my head. I watched as Evette took the clothes off the love seat. Surreptitiously, I peered down her bathing suit at her breasts. They looked firm like she had never given birth. I wondered how old she was. Twenty-five at best, I figured. Evette was the silent one, but her voluptuous body spoke a language, the kind that communicated with a man in ways that her mouth would never be able to. Some women were like that. Bodies that exuded more than charm, they asked questions, but only if a man took the time to listen to the signs.
My mind wondered again, how could two women possibly get off on bumping and grinding pussies on each other? In a way I felt somewhat agitated by it, like a man couldn’t satisfy them. Hopefully I would be able to change all that.
Undulating, Evette sauntered by. I bit down on my lower lip as I touched myself. Lord these women were killing me softly.
There’s an alluring scent that women omit that no man can accurately describe, I’ll just say that it is sweet like nectar. The room seemed to permeate of it, making it hard for me to keep my composure. Inside my body, I felt wild and untamed, lewd thoughts rushed my brain.
From across the room I watched as Tomica meticulously went through the wallet as if she were looking for something in particular.
“Is everything there?” Evette asked.
“Yep,” Tomica responded, the scowl on her pretty face tense with concentration.
In the mark’s wallet was a Visa, MasterCard and various other credit cards and IDs. The items were neatly placed on the bed. As they worked, I watched wondering what the hell they were doing. Occasionally I would pour my drink into the carpet, fake like I was sipping something.
Poised, Tomica held the phone, sighed, took a deep breath and for the first time I noticed a large diamond ring on her pinky finger as it sparkled. Her fingernails were long and manicured. From just holding the phone she looked like one of them classy broads.
“You ready?” Tomica asked Evette. Evette nodded her head up and down, her expression intense like she was giving Tomica her undivided attention. Tomica dialed the number on the back of the Visa. I sat up in my seat trying to peek game. I could sense something was going on, but what?
“Hello! My name is Mrs. Luwinzky. My husband and I have been robbed of all our cash and credit cards.” Tomica sounded just like a distraught white woman, panicky voice and all on the verge of hysteria. I looked on, astonished as these sistas put down their hustle.
“Oooh, thank you! Thank you!” Tomica lamented dramatically.
“You can refund us with cash, and replacement credit cards? You want my husband’s social security number?” Tomica said loud, as she pointed at the items on the bed. Desperately the two women went scrambling looking for the information. It was a sight to behold. They found it. Tomica recited it like she had been doing it all her natural life. This went on for a minute as the two worked in sync with each other. Finally, Tomica flashed the thumbs up sign as she smiled brightly. Shit, I took a sip from my drink, and watched as these two gorgeous women perfected their scheme.
“Yes, we’re going to need ten thousand in travelers checks and a new ATM account number so that we can withdraw money,” she added. As Tomica talked, Evette jotted down the information. I thought to myself, with a feeling of inferiority, here I was risking death running around robbing niggas and selling dope and these women were getting paid in full like pimpstresses from the plush confines of a hotel room.
They did the same thing with the other credit cards, this time more practiced like a well-rehearsed script. I felt like a lame for real now. Never sleep on
the conniving intelligence of a Black woman. They entered the hustling arena and changed the game. In my mind I was doing figures trying to count their money. The numbers were large.
Once they were finished, their room became electrified with their hyperactive energy, laughter and giddy playfulness.
Tomica pranced right up to me, her silky black hair cascading down her ebony brown thighs. She placed her hand on her hip, her body shifting a gear, coochie in my face, and looking down at me, she said as a matter of factly, “Evette and I met in the joint.”
I could tell she waited for a surprise that never came from my expression, and then it occurred to me that I was supposed to be playing dumb, so I dropped my face into a no shit scowl. Evette erupted in laughter. Tomica just continued to look at me as if I was a peasant and was about to give me a command. “She’s from California, I’m from the South Bronx.” The moment stilled as she considered her next statement carefully.
“Like we were saying earlier, we have a proposition for ya.” Now we’re finally getting somewhere, I thought. The liquor kept telling me to reach out and grab that fat pussy, so I did, well, kind of. I reached out boldly and caressed those silky black hairs between her thighs like it was a kitten. Halfway expecting her to purr for me, she just stood stoically still, giving me a look that said, look at this lame. She casually turned her head and looked at Evette. They exchanged a kind of communication that I would never know.
“You ever been with two women before?” Tomica’s voice was that of a temptress, sultry like she could set me on fire with her breath. So much lust. Her tongue slowly licked at the rim of her top lip. I could hardly control myself. My hand eased up her thigh. She moaned softly and inhaled deeply like she just stepped into some cold water. My finger roamed, like an escaped convict from an asylum, until I found the soft moist opening of her pussy lips. Evette peeked our move and disrobed down to bare nudity. Hell, if I were a woman I would have been attracted to her, too. Her body was audaciously voluptuous; small waist and full breasts and free of blemishes. The beauty of them both seemed to radiate throughout the room. The small bush between her legs was manicured into a heart like an exclamation mark flaunting her beauty.
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