by Tranay Adams
Pavielle took his arm away from Vayda and stepped to Nightmare’s tombstone. He unzipped his jeans and pulled out his meat. Feeling that he was going too far, Nasheed made to protest, but Gangsta cut him off and shook his head. With a sinister smile, Pavielle relieved himself on Nightmare’s tombstone and grave. Once he was done, he gave his dick two shakes and put it back into his jeans. For a time he watched the yellow fluid run over his enemy’s tombstone, feeling a sense of accomplishment. Pavielle interlocked his fingers with Vayda and turned to walk away, with everyone following suit.
That night
Vayda lay on her side in bed snuggled under the covers. The door opened cutting a ray of light through the darkness of the bedroom. Pavielle closed the door behind him and made his way over to the bed. He’d spent the past few hours with Gangsta and Gouch smoking weed and drinking cups of hard liquor while chopping it up. He pulled his .9mm automatic from his waistline and stashed it under his pillow. Next, he sat down on the bed and leaned his cane against the wall on the side of the dresser. He carefully peeled off his shirt and tossed it aside on the floor. He then slowly brought his legs over into the bed and leaned against the headboard.
Vayda turned over in bed. She kissed on Pavielle’s chest around his healing gunshot wounds while her hand unbuckled and unzipped his jeans. She dipped her hand into his boxer-briefs caressing his length and causing him to draw wood, as she sucked on his neck and pulled gently on his bottom lip. She could taste the lingering Hennessy on his bottom lip.
Pavielle moaned softly feeling good, his eyes fluttered and he licked his top lip as Vayda planted hickeys on his neck. “Wha…What are you doing?” he stammered.
“What do you think I’m doing?” she asked in a sensual whisper.
“Babe, I don’t think I’m quite ready for this, I’m still a lil’ sore,” He confessed with his eyes closed, enjoying her fondling of him.
“It’s cool, I got chu.” Vayda assured him. She straddled him and pulled her panties to the side, exposing her fat kitty cat which was already warm and wet. Pavielle licked his lips at the anticipation of feeling her soaking walls as he held his dick at the base. Vayda hovered over the throbbing head of hid grown man, dripping her juices over it and his hand. She slowly brought her vagina to meet his head and they absorbed one another, fitting each other like a tailor made glove. They both gasped as their sexes united as one, beginning a journey on what was to be some of the best sex either of them had experienced. Pavielle leaned his head back and gripped Vayda’s waist as she grinded on him, slowly and then eventually faster. She was careful to make sure she had all of his length buried deep inside of her pussy. Once she had found a pace and rhythm that she was pleased with, she worked her hips intensely causing them both to moan in bliss.
Pavielle’s hands slipped themselves under her silk gown and found her breasts. They’d gotten bigger since she became pregnant and that turned him on even more. He groped them like an old pervert and she loved it. It caused her nipples to harden and her face to twist into an ugly expression as if an evil spirit had floated across the bedroom and absorbed into her body. She grunted animalistic like. Looking down at her lover’s face, she saw that he was enjoying it and she threw her head back. She closed her eyes and rode him faster. The noises of their love making sounded like two wild beasts going at it in the depths of a dark, wet jungle. Vayda dug her manicured nails into Pavielle’s shoulders and stared down at him sneering. She was fucking him like she hated his guts now and it was so good. Pavielle pushed her arms aside and grabbed her by her throat, giving her a slight choke. He gripped her hip so tight that redness formed around his hand. Staring up at her, he drove his cock inside of her as hard and as deep as he could, causing her to whine in pleasure. Heavy breathing from the two of them flooded the bedroom and before long they were drenched in one another’s nectars.
When Vayda exploded the veins that had formed on her forehead and neck disappeared, and her once angry face was now smiling. She giggled and leaned closer, kissing Pavielle passionately as her sandy brown curls hung in his face. She climbed off of him and snuggled beside him, tucked snugly under his right-arm. They both closed their eyes and drifted off to sleep.
$$$
Porno sat at the small desk in his dorm room. The only light was the only one illuminating from the desk lamp so he wouldn’t awaken his slumbering roommate. He packaged video-tapes and addressed them to various news stations. Porno had taken quite the beating from Arsenegger and his damages were the testament. His right-eye was swollen shut, his lip was split and tiny cuts were littered his face. He wore a neck-brace and a cast on his right-foot and left-arm. His crutches were propped against his desk as he handled the task at hand.
“Yeah, let’s see how your cracka ass like these apples.” Porno laughed and kissed the video-tape he’d just packaged. He slapped a postage stamp at the corner of it and turned out the desk lamplight. Come tomorrow morning he was going to drop off all of the packages at the post office to be mailed.
This was going to be one man that Arsenegger wasn’t going to regret fucking with.
Chapter Nine
The next day
Killa Dre was slumped behind the wheel of his black Dodge Charger with the white leather seats. His camouflage bucket hat sat over his eyes and his arms were folded to his chest. His right-hand gripped his banger tightly, which was hiding in his armpit out of sight. At first glance it would appear that the young boy was asleep, but looks are very deceiving. If some fool thought he was gone creep up and jack him for his ride he was in for a rude awakening. He would get a wakeup call in the form of seven .357 Magnum bullets.
Meek Mill’s Dreams & Nightmares CD played softly from his speakers. Killa Dre was parked outside of Harbor General hospital. He had gotten a call from Banga saying that he needed someone to pick him up from the hospital once he was released. Banga being his nigga and all, Killa Dre told him that he’d pick him up. Twenty minutes later, the young nigga was pulling into the parking lot of Harbor General hospital. He’d bought himself a double cheese burger and fries from In and Out up the street. Once he’d finished his meal he noticed that fifteen minutes had already passed, and before he knew it, he’d been waiting for two hours.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
The window glass sounded as someone knocked on it, prompting Killa Dre to point his silver revolver at the passenger side window. Seeing the weapon caused Banga to jump back with his hands in the air.
“Chill, Blood, it’s me.” Banga told him. Killa Dre lowered his revolver and unlocked the passenger side door. Banga opened the door and eased himself inside. He closed the door to and slapped hands with his nigga. “My bad, fam, I know you’ve been waiting out here for a minute. It took forever for them to release me and for me to get this medicine and shit.” He held up the brown paper bag of his pain medication.
“Don’t wet it.” Killa Dre pulled the seatbelt across his person and locked it. He then resurrected the engine and pulled out of the parking stall. Having looked both ways, he pulled out into the street making a left and heading down Carson street.
“Blood, I can’t believe you’re driving with no Ls.” Banga smirked. “Binem ain’t pulled you over yet?”
“Nah, and even if they did I’m straight. Gangsta gotta hookup at the DMV that plugged my shit in.” Killa Dre informed him.
“That’s what’s up.” Banga nodded.
Killa Dre pulled into a Chevron gas station and executed the engine. He made to hop out, but Banga tapping his arm caused him to stop.
“Let me give you some snaps on the petro.” He dipped into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a wad of wrinkled dead white people.
“Nah, you good, B. You know how we do.” Killa Dre closed the door shut and mobbed into the Chevron gas station.
Once Killa Dre had gone, Banga fished around into the ashtray, which was a graveyard for cigarette butts, until he found a roach. He put the roach into his mouth, grabbed a lighter, and put fire to the end
of it. He took a couple of pulls, blew out the smoke and sucked it back in. He then blew the smoke out again and took another pull. Hearing a noise at his rear, he adjusted the side-view mirror and spotted two young chicks. One was slim with a honey complexion and blonde hair, while the other was the color of a walnut and rocked her hair shaved on one side like the singer Cassie. The chicks were handing a couple of flyers to some guys that had just pulled into the gas station. After speaking with them for a moment they made their way in Banga’s direction. He smiled as he checked out their profiles through the side-view mirror. Both of the chicks were easy on the eyes, but he was really feeling old girl with the blonde mop.
“What it do, big daddy?” Blondie asked seductively, licking her pink lipstick lips and hanging inside of the passenger side window. The way she was eying Banga made his dick jump in his jeans. He wondered what those full lips of hers would feel like wrapped around his pole.
“Whatever I tell it to.” Banga responded confidently. He looked her up and down.
“I heard that, why don’t chu bring it down to Clug Mack Daddy tonight and watch me perform.” She handed Banga a flyer for the event but he barely paid it any attention. Blondie took the roach from Banga’s lips and took a pull, blowing smoke out the corner of her mouth.
“So what’s your name, sweetheart?” Banga asked. Sneaking a peek through the rearview mirror he saw Killa Dre macking Blondie’s homegirl while he pumped the gas.
“Candy Cane.” She smiled and giggled.
“Candy Cane, I’m Banga.” He introduced himself and shook her hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet chu, Banga.”
“Oh, the pleasure is all mine.” He licked his lips as he admired her beauty. She was a ghetto fine dime with an ass too big for her frame. Banga could tell she must have gotten butt injections, but he didn’t care because little momma had a crazy body and mad sex appeal.
“So are you gonna come see me tonight, Banga?” she asked as she toyed with the hefty charm hanging from around his neck that spelled out his name in gold and diamonds.
“Two sho’, lil’ momma, maybe we can slide somewhere else afterwards.” He licked his lips and bit down on the bottom one, eying her hungrily.
“No doubt,” Candy Cane kissed two of her fingers and pressed them against Banga’s lips. She waved goodbye as she walked off leaving him with a rock hard dick. Banga leaned out of the window watching as Candy Cane and her homegirl walked off. He bit down on his bottom lip again as her juicy ass swayed from left to right and caused her miniskirt to rise and expose the bottoms of her butt cheeks. He imagined his face buried deep inside of her snatch as he ate her out from behind.
Killa Dre hopped back inside and slammed the door closed. He programmed Candy Cane’s friend’s number into his cell phone before returning it to his waistline and resurrecting the engine. He pulled off with Banga studying the flyer that Candy Cane had given him.
“Mothafucka,” Banga said under his breath as he looked over the flyer.
“What’s bracking?” Killa Dre asked as he ate a Honey Bun.
“This is the bitch! This is the bitch that capped my brother!” Banga hollered, jabbing his finger at the flyer. A half naked Passion was on the front of the flyer as the headline of Club Mack Daddy that weekend. “She was there with Paybacc and that other broad.”
A frowning Killa Dre snatched the flyer from Banga’s hand and looked it over. “Are you sure this is old girl?”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s that bitch! We’re going there tonight, we’re in that thang.” Banga scowled. “Slide me to the house so I can get my strap.”
“You sure you wanna go after this bitch tonight, though? I mean, you just got outta the hospital. I know those staples in your stomach are pretty fresh.” Killa Dre reasoned, looking back and forth between the windshield and his homeboy.
“I may not run into this broad ever again.” Banga said. “The opportunity has presented its self and I’m gonna take it. If you’re not tryna ride then cool, but either way I’m getting down on this tonight.”
Killa Dre nodded and said, “Alright, if this bitch gotta go tonight then she’s gotta go. I’m with chu.” He held out his fist. Banga looked to the fist then to his man before giving him a pound.
The rest of the ride to his apartment, Banga looked out of the window scowling, watching the streets pass him by in a blur.
Tonight was the night that his brother would finally be avenged.
$$$
Pavielle lay beside Vayda looking up at the black & white sonogram of his son. He couldn’t be more excited about the bun baking in his fiancé’s oven. He was sure that the birth of his son would be the happiest day of his life. He had a mental rolodex of possible names that he could give his baby boy, but he couldn’t make up his mind.
“Yo, you see this?” Pavielle pointed to the baby’s umbilical cord. “Is that my son’s swipe?”
Vayda laughed and said, “No. That’s not his dick, stupid! That’s his umbilical cord.”
“Hell naw, Blood, that’s my baby’s ding-a-ling.” Pavielle took a closer look at the sonogram. “My lil’ nigga got swipe just like his daddy.”
“Boy, please.” Vayda shook her head like he was silly.
Pavielle sat the sonogram on his chest and said, “That’s brazy, Vay. I’m going to be a father. Some lil’ boy is actually going to be calling me pop.”
“I know, right? It all seems so surreal.” She said. “I’m going to be a mother. I never thought the day would come, but here it is.”
“Yeah, I just wish G-momma, my moms, and pops were here to celebrate lil’ dude’s homecoming with us.” Pavielle picked up the portrait of his family from the dresser. He had glassy eyes that were attempting to form tears but he blinked them back.
“They are here, baby.” Vayda told him as she stood to her knees behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek against his.
“In spirit, right?” Pavielle sat the portrait down on the dresser. “It’s just not the same as being able to talk, touch, or feel a person in the flesh. There’s a difference in seeing a person and imagining them there.”
“I know, boo.” Vayda said. “And I’m sorry that they can’t be here in the physical to see our son when he’s pushed out into this crazy, hectic world.” She kissed him on the cheek and notice that his eyes were welling up with tears. If he were to blink tears would shoot down his cheeks. Suddenly, his cell phone rang and vibrated, dancing around on the dresser. He picked it up and pressed talk.
“What’s up, duce owe?” Pavielle said into his cellular. Something was said on the line that made him look alive and sit up in bed. “Dre, get her to tell you where old boy is. Afterwards, y’all niggaz can cancel that bitch, peace.”
He hung up.
$$$
Banga was in the corner of the club barely hidden within the shadows. He sat at his table babysitting a cranberry and vodka. He’d ordered the drink as to not look suspicious amongst other patrons in attendance. By no means was he considering indulging in alcohol that night. Nah, he needed a clear head if he was going to execute the mission at hand.
Banga had been at the club for the greater half of the night, so the ice cubes melted and mixed with his drink, watering it down. He played the background watching the scenery before him play out. Beautiful, scantily clad women moved about giving lap dances, serving drinks or dancing on the stage. The trick niggaz threw dollars in the air making it rain, while thirsty ass dudes tried to grab and grope the dancers. Banga had been offered several lap dances throughout the night, but he’d turned them all down, for fear of losing his concentration and missing Passion when she came out. He was at Club Mack Daddy that night on business, and it was that business alone that deserved his undivided attention.
Banga was just about to get up and look around to see if he’d see Passion around when he heard….
“Ladies and gentlemen…bitches and thirsty ass niggaz…get out your pocket books and walle
ts, and give a warm welcome to the amazing, the sensational, the dazzling, the oh so fine…Passion…” the DJ announced. Juicy J’s Bands will make her dance came blasting from the speakers in the four upper corners of the club. Passion came walking out on stage like a horse. She was dressed in a chauffer’s hat, black shades, a short tight fitting blazer and patent leather hooker boots that reached her thighs. She threw her hat into the audience and worked the pole for a bit before pulling off her blazer and tossing it aside. Bills of all denominations came falling out of the air and onto the stage.
Banga watched intently as his target performed. She was putting on one hell of a show. When he saw her the night she shot him and blasted on his brother she was dressed in all black and looked thugged out. But working the stage before him now she looked amazing, her body was worthy of the cover of Black Men Magazine. She was tantalizing and the way she moved seem to call out to him. Banga began imagining himself seven inches deep inside of Passion’s pussy, giving her back strokes. The scene of him and her fucking played out in his mind like a hardcore porn flick. Just thinking about his cock sliding in and out of her coochie made his dick jump. Banga quickly shook the thought from his mind. This was the bitch that clapped him and smoked his brother. The only thing hard he was going to give her was a chest full of some hot shit.
Once Passion finished her performance, she and another stripper gathered up all of her earnings and stuffed them into three clear trash bags. It was the most money Banga had seen any of the girls make that night. He watched as Passion headed to the back to the locker room where all of the girls got dressed for their performances. He dropped a twenty on his table for the waitress and made to follow Passion. Confirming that she’d definitely went into the back room, Banga slipped outside and into the passenger seat of Killa Dre’s Charger, where he was waiting behind the wheel.