by Aija Monique
Porsha was busy unbuttoning Phil’s pants, exposing how hard he was. The head of his dick tingled and jumped in anticipation of her hot and wet mouth engulfing all eight inches of his circumcised penis.
Porsha dove in hard and hungry. She took in all of him after French-kissing the head of his dick, slowly, as if making love to it. Porsha allowed the spit from her mouth to accumulate before expelling it all over his dick. Phil moaned in excitement as he felt the wetness slide down the shaft of his penis. He responded by grabbing hold of her head and guiding her head to bob at a growing rate of acceleration. This excited Porsha as well. She began to moan and beg for Phil to come in her mouth.
Phil wasn’t ready for that just yet. He wanted to feel how tight that pussy was. He grabbed Porsha by her face and kissed her deep in her mouth. Kissing hoes was totally against the rules. He didn’t know what had come over him. Perhaps because he was forced to take a pussy hiatus and he was experiencing withdrawal.
“Bring that pussy here,” Phil coached Porsha. She didn’t need much direction. She quickly climbed onto his lap and sat directly on his dick with ease.
Phil groaned with satisfaction as he felt her wetness warm and squeeze his dick. “Fuck, you got some good pussy.”
“Top of the line, baby. You like this pussy, Philly?” Porsha moaned as she rode the shit out of his dick, grinding harder and deeper with each penetration.
Phil bit his lip, desperately trying not to come too fast. But she clearly had him under her spell. Her hips were moving in such ways that brought him close to tears. She could easily make a nigga say, “I love you!” and he had the urge.
Porsha kissed Phil on his lips gently and stared deep into his eyes as she slowly twerked on his dick to music playing in the background. He was mesmerized by her beauty. Her lips were still swollen from sucking his dick. She smiled, exposing the dimple in her right cheek.
“Come for me, Daddy. Come for me.” Porsha continued to grind deeper. Phil begged for more as he nearly tore the top of Porsha’s black dress to get to her breast. He teased the nipple a bit, then grabbed hold of her breast with his mouth, sucking the shit out of her tits, so much so it almost hurt. Porsha swirled her hips slowly in circular motions, then in a rise and fall. She wanted to feel how deep he could go. Slowly, Porsha tightened her pelvis so her pussy hugged his dick slightly harder as she squirted continuously.
Phil moaned as he arched his pelvis to meet her every move as he climaxed. Porsha smiled, wiping the sweat from her nose with Phil’s.
“Where to now?” Porsha inquired, cheesing.
“I got a few stops to make. Then you are goin’ to tell me where the fuck my cousin Shun at. What was so important that he couldn’t come and get me himself?” Phil replied with a look on his face that spoke of malice and foul play.
“Will do,” Porsha replied, scooting off of Phil’s now-limp dick and back into the driver’s seat.
“Naw, I’m driving,” Phil demanded, adjusting his zipper, making his way to the driver’s side of Porsha’s sports car.
CHAPTER 5
Loot
“Get on your knees!” Phil and Porsha yelled simultaneously. They were blowing through trap house to trap house, stealing money and drugs no matter the consequence.
“Gimme the loot!” Porsha demanded, tossing the duffle bag at one of the men and hissing for his boy to shut up and get down.
“What the fuck!” one of the men said, yelling so loud he was drooling from the mouth like a pit bull. “Do you know who the fuck I am?”
Phil shook his head and kicked the man square in the mouth. The man’s head snapped back, and he bounced to the floor before coming to a rest. Phil and Porsha moved about the room like a winter breeze, collecting the money and drugs. They left no stone unturned.
* * *
Two Weeks Later
“Man, word on the street your cuz Phil and that broad Porsha got some kind of Bonnie and Clyde thing going on. I’m talkin’ ’bout some real grime shit, you feel me? They kickin’ in trap house doors, stealing drug money and everything. I mean, naked bitches runnin’ out that muthafucka, and some mo’.”
“Fuck that nigga. I get discharged in a few days. You comin’?” Shun responded with a rasp in his voice, as if smokin’ on a blunt. He completely ignored Cyrus’s rant. The IV in his arm was irritating. He felt a tug in his veins. His entire body was extremely sore from the shooting. “I been in here two muthafuckin’ weeks. Two weeks, ma nigga, and that man ain’t come see ’bout me not once. ’Round here chasin’ pussy like some mutt. I’m sick to ma stomach at the mention of that bitch name too. How you know anyway, Blood? I hope his name ain’t being soiled in the streets on account of hearsay, ma nigga. I have high hopes that niggas just runnin’ they mouth. Cuz if he is truly runnin’ behind this ho, breakin’ bread and shit, then fuck it. He deserved that shit. No investigation needed. The truth always reveals itself.”
“How that happen?”
Shun shook his head. His thoughts ran wild as he thought about the incident between himself and Porsha. He saved himself by runnin’ from that pussy. Her shit was more poison than a muthafucka. Phil had better learn how to swim toward the exit. Pussy will get a nigga killed, fast.
Main reason, he couldn’t fuck with Porsha on some ole boyfriend-and-girlfriend-type shit. He couldn’t deny he felt some type of way. Shun was careful in his choice of words for worry his feelings would breathe life if expelled to the air. Plus, he was surrounded by some unknown niggas he knew in his heart would kill to take his place at any given moment. Shun smiled through the pain, then grimaced as he tried to sit up a bit. He went in search of his call button.
“Hey, I need somethin’,” Shun snapped. He was in so much pain he was afraid he would break down in front of the pack of wolves that stood in front of him, crying like a damn baby. He was lucky. The bullets hadn’t hit any major arteries, and the one that hit his belly was through and through. The bullet wound just below his clavicle bone was lodged in a very sensitive area. Doctors couldn’t be certain, but their hope was that the bullet wouldn’t travel, causing more issue to come about. Shun couldn’t worry about that for too long. He was just happy he could feel his legs and could walk. He was mad at himself for going against his own code. It was his own damn fault, really. He was in the predicament he was in because he didn’t follow the rules of engagement. He was fuckin’ with too many niggas. Should have just stuck to his solo game. He was making money, but greed begets greed, and the money was calling. He couldn’t just stand there and watch the next man get it.
Cyrus canvassed the area as he usually did when he was certain there was a traitor about. He stared each man down from the corner of his eye as he held his hand under his chin, speculating. Shun needed to take a few pills and get the fuck out of Dodge. There was work to be done, and the longer he sat in bed trippin’ off a few gunshot wounds, the more money he would lose. Hell, Porsha and Phil were on a major come up. He was Phil’s boy all day. He couldn’t stand that he was allowing some bitch to dictate his next moves. One thing Shun was right about was that pussy will damn sure get a nigga killed.
Cyrus stood in the corner of the room and watched as the nurse came in to give Shun his routine meds. He knew he would be out like a light in a matter of minutes. His job as handler and bodyguard would be to clear the room so the man could get some rest. He was happy to put the bug in Shun’s ear about the happenings on the streets. Shun needed to get his head back in the game. He worried about Phil. It was evident the bitch had to go. Porsha was playing that man like a fiddle. If Phil wasn’t careful, he was going to end up dead one of two ways: by the pussy or by Karma.
Phil never took to robbin’ the next man for drugs and money. The licks were a high school pastime. As adults, he got his drugs from suppliers and sold it legitimately. Only ass whoopin’s handed out were those to fools who didn’t pay on time, or buster-ass niggas snitchin’ about the establishment.
Cyrus excused the men from the room so he
could have a quick word with Shun before he dozed off. He was serious in his inquiries and had plans of his own but wanted to talk to Shun to get his take on the situation as well. He grew up with both Shun and Phil, but he ran the streets with Phil. His loyalties were in between. He had both their best interests at heart. It was a must that Porsha be dealt with. The question was how and who was going to carry it out.
Cyrus stepped to the edge of Shun’s bed and looked down at him with a look of doom and concern. “Man, I don’t want to bother you about this shit, but we need to make a move on this Porsha and Phil shit.”
“What would you suggest I do about the situation? I’m not presently in a position to make many moves, Cyrus. You know me. I’m not gonna kiss nobody ass. If he feel like Porsha is the one for him, then fine.” Shun was burning with anger, trying hard to make light of it. He couldn’t believe how trifling Porsha’s ass was. Hell, he couldn’t believe he was lying in a hospital bed—shot.
“The man obviously feels some type of way about me. He hasn’t come to see about me. This shit is for the birds. I want that bitch’s head, real talk.” Shun could feel his eyes getting heavy. “I want out of here, though, you right about that. It’s time to get out of here. Shit.”
Shun was fast asleep in less than a minute. His voice trailed off, and Cyrus’s mind began to wander.
“Yeah, I got you, brah. You will be out of here in no time.”
* * *
Cyrus left Shun to get some sleep. He met up with his nurse at her station and waved to get her attention. The nurse smiled at his pearly whites as she sashayed her tight scrubs over to him. He bit his lip as he searched her complete frame before speaking. She was beautiful. She was a short thang, couldn’t be more than five foot three with creamy chocolate skin. She had a head full of charcoal-black hair that was parted in the middle and set behind both her ears. She certainly got his attention.
“I need you to do somethin’ for me, Ma!”
“And what is that?” The nurse stood with her hands on her hips, biting her bottom lip.
“I need you to get my boy some meds. Can you do that for me?” Cyrus smiled and licked his lips as he spoke seductively.
The nurse stood for a minute as if pondering the request. “What do I get out of this?” she asked, lowering her gaze to Cyrus’s dick.
“I can handle that,” he smiled, showing off the dimple in his left cheek.
The nurse turned on her heel and walked speedily down to the medicine station. Cyrus made his way back to the room to prepare Shun for his departure.
* * *
“Aaahhhh!” Porsha screamed with glee as she rolled all over the bed piled high with money. She kicked and hollered about the day’s earnings. Porsha’s happiness drained fast, however, when she noticed Phil in a corner looking out the window with his pistol drawn. Shit was hot, and as the stealing spree continued, drug lords put a price on their heads.
“What’s the matter, baby?”
“Nothin’. Just have to stay on my toes, Ma. Riches come with a price, responsibility, and Karma, all balled into one. You don’t think we’re able to roam freely, do you? I haven’t heard from Shun either, so I’m getting worried. I hope that nigga okay. I thought the trip was supposed to be a quick pickup and back to the States. It’s been two weeks at least,” Phil said tapping his temple with his gun.
Porsha flared her nose at Phil’s inquiries. She wasn’t tryin’a hear shit about Shun and his money trails. The way she saw it, he was on the list of people to rob as well. She just needed the right time and place because she knew Phil wouldn’t go for that.
“Don’t trip, Phil, okay? We got to make this money and, apparently, Shun didn’t care to inform or include you on his shit. So why should you be feeling guilty about your come up? Let that shit go. You can’t be under that nigga wing all yo’ damn life.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I think you better watch your mouth. We been through a lot, and half this shit I did alone. Never been a follower, neither has he. We just wanted different things. At the time, I was so fuckin’ mad at ’im cuz I felt he abandoned me. But he wanted better shit, you feel me? Felt like we could rise above the hood. Even though he ended up doin’ time for the next nigga, it wasn’t on no bitch shit. He went to jail for loyalty to a fuckin’ country that could give two shits about him. Do you know they stripped him of all his honors? Then they just threw his ass back in the streets as if he hadn’t served his country and people. So you watch what you say about my cousin. You don’t know shit about our struggle. Despite his latest actions, he is all I got and never has betrayed me.” Phil’s voice trailed off as he thought about the times in the hood they ran from the police after stealing from the liquor store.
“Well, all that’s in the past. You’re with me now. We’re doing just fine without Shun.”
Phil looked up from his private stakeout to look Porsha dead in the face. There was something about the tone in her voice that set him off. He couldn’t put his finger on it. He wasn’t stupid. Porsha felt some type of way about Shun, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. However, he wasn’t going to disclose his curiosity to her. He was going to go straight to Shun about the shit. He’d already smelled a rat from day one, her swooping him from jail like she was doing him such a big favor.
The sex was cool. The money was lovely, but sooner or later, their cover would be blown and going into hiding would be inevitable. Something Phil had no plans of doing. He always knew he’d go out with a bang. Whether Porsha was down with that was neither here nor there. He just figured his time of exit would be right next to his only true blood left, and that was Shun.
Porsha stormed about the hotel room packing the money up into duffle bags and pulling her tight jeans up around her thick thighs.
“Look, you want to sit in here and throw a pity party about your cousin moving on to bigger and better things, then you go right ahead. I’m about making money. That nigga could care less about you, your feelings, your money, your well-being, and the entire motions of it all. Where is that nigga now?”
Phil twiddled his thumbs and bit his bottom lip. He wasn’t really concerned about Porsha’s latest statements. He was trying desperately not to go upside her head. “Yeah, we shall see.”
CHAPTER 6
Game Plan
By the time Shun woke up from his most recent drug-induced nap, he found himself in the comforts of his own bed. Cyrus had the room set up just like a hospital, and the nurse from his room was standing over him changing the fluids on his IV. Shun just shook his head and grabbed for the nurse’s shirttail to get her attention.
“How long have I been out? You think you can help me sit up?”
“Sure. Let me just make sure your tubing doesn’t get all twisted up, and I’ll let you get up and get yourself dressed.” Sophia taped his IV after untangling his tubing.
“You ready?” she asked.
“Damn, this shit must gon’ hurt. You wouldn’t be asking me if I was ready if it was a piece of cake. I guess let’s just get it over with.”
“Okay, I’m going to lay the bed flat real quick so I can help you scoot up. Doing it this way won’t be as bad as you trying to scoot up upright.”
“Okay.”
Sophia let the bed down so that Shun could lie back. He nearly panicked because he felt uncomfortable, like his airways were stifled a bit. He took a few labored breaths and winced a bit with pain.
Sophia counted to three. “One, two, three, now pull.” She and Shun both grunted while pulling him into a better position. She then let the bed up to a sitting position.
“There, all set.” she said.
“I appreciate it. Thank you,” Shun said, unsure if he was going to be able to carry out the tasks of everyday living alone. He felt strong mentally and was determined, but his muscles were weak from the past three weeks of bed rest.
“Cyrus is in the front room, so if you need anything just holler. I’ve got to get back to the hospit
al, but I’ll check in on you after my shift.” The nurse smiled innocently and left Shun to his own devices.
Shun observed the perimeters of his room before he made an attempt to move. He was determined. To complete the task wasn’t the issue. The amount of pain he was going to have to endure was.
Shun placed his neck pillow in his mouth so that he could muffle the sounds of anguish. His stomach was sore. Each move was a task in itself. He bit down on his pillow and inched his way to the door of his room. About thirty minutes later, he made his way to the living room with his gun in his right hand. Cyrus was busy on the phone with one of his goons about his latest pickup. Shun made his way to the kitchen and grabbed himself a soda. His legs and lower back were killing him. He instantly went for one of the cereal boxes on top of the refrigerator. Shun pulled out a half of Kush and tossed it over to his dining room table. He then popped open the fridge and took a long swig of syrup, backing it with a gulp of soda.
“Damn, nigga! You good?” Cyrus interrupted Shun’s entrance to intoxication beyond measure. “You feeling better?”
“I’m feeling something,” Shun said, laying his gun down on the table. “I’m poppin’ these damn pills like Skittles,” he said as he hobbled at record speed to a chair at the living room table. Shun pulled out his chair and began to sit, inching ever so slowly into his seat. Then he began rolling blunts like he was entering a contest in the Guinness Book of Records. Shun burned the exterior of his blunt to ensure it was sealed after licking her closed. He was caressing it sweet and tenderly as if pulling the satin to reveal the core of a bitch’s pussy. Lighting the bitch and inhaling her sweetness opened his mind and relaxed his muscles. The pressure in his back seemed to dissipate, and the crease in his forehead from the frustration of pain unfolded. Shun rubbed his forehead with the butt of his gun. He was in a trance, rocking slightly while he collected his thoughts.
“Phil call?” he spoke under his breath, but Cyrus caught every word.