G-Spot 2 Envy: The 4th Deadly Sin (G-Spot 2: The Seven Deadly Sins)

by Noire

  He slid his rough hands down her shoulders, over her elbows, and then held tightly to her waist. Her midsection was so small that his fingertips actually touched went he brought his hands together, and her wide hips bucked feverishly back and forth.

  Raising and lowering her in his lap, Trey enjoyed the wet sounds coming from her pussy, and the mutters of pleasure falling from her lips. He knew he was a big man everywhere, and he loved being able to thoroughly fuck a woman at the same time that she was pleasing him.

  Right now the shaft of his dick felt like it was swollen to twice its size. Her insides were blazing hot and wet, and he felt himself losing control of his stroke.

  “Damn!” he whispered. “This pussy is gooood!”

  He slammed her down deeply on his rod, then stood up quickly and did a 180-degree turn around. Debbie was all warm, smooth brown skin as he lowered her to his bed. He hovered over her as she spread her legs wide, and lifted them high in the air.

  Trey dove in dick first.

  He felt her body shudder as he penetrated her fully, the head of his monster battering the back of her pussy walls.

  “Oh! Damn!” Debbie cried. Her gorgeous body slithered beneath him like a snake as she raked long scratches down his back and ass in mindless bliss. “I love your dick, Trey! I love you, baby! This feels so damn good. I love you!”

  Trey held her hips in place and bore down with all his weight, pressing into her pussy deliciously as she screamed into his chest with her release.

  Second later, Trey let go too. He felt her vagina clenching and pulsating as his dick jerked inside her, spilling his seed into the tip of the condom.

  Trey knew what was expected of him next. He rolled over onto his side and pulled Debbie into his arms so they could snuggle. His huge body dwarfed her tiny one as they spooned together in the aftermath of their sexual battle, and she felt sweet and warm laying in his arms. Long minutes passed before either of them said a word. Debbie broke the silence first.

  “Wow,” she said, pushing back deeper against his chest as she drew her knees all the way up to her chest. “I missed you, Trey. Can’t no other man make me feel this good.”

  Trey pushed her hair up and kissed a sweet spot on the back of her neck.

  “Thanks, baby,” he said. “You make me feel good too.”

  Trey wasn’t lying when he told her she made him feel good. She did. Debbie was a cool sistah. He liked her, and their sexual chemistry was off the chart.

  But only the physical side of him had been satisfied tonight. The part of his heart that Trey was holding on reserve was still untouched. As much as he dug chilling with Debbie, Trey knew she wasn’t the one for him. None of the ladies who were currently in his life, and who sometimes shared his bed were.

  Trey Jackson was still waiting to find his queen. He was still waiting to provide sunlight for his flower, and water for his earth. He didn’t know who she was, or when she would show up in his life, but he was a patient, serious man, and he’d know her when he found her.

  These were the thoughts on Trey’s mind when his cell phone vibrated on his nightstand. With his arms full of soft, brown flesh, he ignored it.

  “You’re not going to answer that?” Debbie asked.

  “Nah, baby,” Trey said, pulling her closer to him as his lips grazed her naked shoulder bone. “I’m chillin’ with you right now. My voicemail can get it.”

  The phone vibrated again, and he felt Debbie go stiff in his arms.

  “You can go ahead answer your phone you know, Trey.” She reached over and snatched it up from the nightstand and passed it over her shoulder to him. “I already know you fucks with other women, so maybe my time is up on your clock and it’s somebody else’s turn now.”

  “C’mon, Deb,” he said and stroked her arm gently as he braced for one of her insanely jealous heat rounds. “It’s not even like that baby.”

  His phone vibrated again, and Trey glanced at the caller ID and froze.

  “Hello?”

  He frowned deeply as he listened to the gravelly, panicked voice on the other end of the line.

  “No, I haven’t seen her in a few days,” he told the elderly caller, “but the last time she came by we hung out and she seemed pretty straight.”

  Trey listened some more.

  “So was that the last time you spoke to her?”

  The old man said a few words and Trey nodded.

  “A’ight. I’ll look around and see if I can find her. Yeah, I understand. I know, I know. I love her too.”

  Debbie jumped out of the bed as soon as the last few words left Trey’s mouth.

  “Check it out baby,” he told her as he got outta the bed too and started looking for some clothes. “A situation just jumped off with one of my girls and I need to go take care of a couple of things real quick.”

  “You know,” Debbie said completely igging what he’d said. She stuck one foot inside her panties while she balanced on her slim, pretty leg. “I’m tired of you and all your other girls, Trey. And that’s real fucked up of you to lay up here next to me talking about how you love some other chick, you know.”

  “Debbie,” Trey reached for her, and she pushed his hand away. “Hold up,” he said. “It ain’t even like that, baby.”

  “Nah, don’t Debbie me. I already told you I know you fucks with other females, Trey!”

  “Yeah,” he answered honestly. “I do. But I’ve never tried to hide that from you. You told me sex was all you wanted too.”

  “Well I fuckin’ lied!” she said as she pulled her jeans over her cute hips and bent over and snatched her shirt up off the floor. The pert, naked titties that he had just sucked all over bounced up and down as she moved.

  Trey went in the bathroom and flushed his soggy condom down the toilet, then wiped his dick and balls off with a wet washcloth.

  When he went back in his room Debbie was still standing pretty much where he had left her.

  “Look, let me give you a ride home, Deb, cool?” He reached for her arm. “Or at least let me get you a cab.”

  She hand-checked him. “Nah, the only thing you can do for me is give up all them other chicks you got on a string! And if you can’t do that then I’m out baby. Sorry. I can’t help but get jealous when I’m giving you my heart and all I can get back is a piece of your body, Trey. I mean, damn! You just laid right there in the bed next to me and said you love some other girl! Don’t you think I would like to hear you say you love me sometimes too?”

  Trey nodded. He felt her. He really did. He could have broken the situation down about the pregnant thirteen-year-old dopefiend who had gone missing from her grandfather’s house. And he could have told Debbie how important it was for him to go comfort the girl’s scared, elderly grandfather, and maybe he coulda tried to explain why he was so damn driven to help the neighborhood kids when they found themselves caught between the streets and a hard spot. But none of that woulda changed anything between him and Debbie. When there was so much clear envy in a heart, there was no room for love or anything else.

  He got dressed in silence and grabbed his wallet and his keys. Somewhere out in there wandering the dark streets of Harlem was a thirteen-year-old girl who was pregnant by her dead pimp and shooting drugs in her veins.

  Debbie was a grown-ass woman and he could deal with her shit later. But right now Trey needed to call his boyz so they could get out there and try to find that lost little child of the ghetto before it was too late.

  “Oh, so you’re just gonna walk out on me now?” Debbie smirked and crossed her arms over her breasts when she realized that he was about to leave with or without her.

  “I’m not walking out on you, baby. I have something I need to take care of. I’ll call you later, Deb, okay?”

  “You know what?” she exploded. “A niggah like you should never believe a chick when she tells you all she wants is sex! That’s a bunch of bullshit, because a real woman is never gonna be satisfied with just some random, occasional dick
from a dude like you, Trey! You best believe every bitch you’re mashing it up with wants more, more, more! I don’t care how much she fronts and tells you all she wants is that bone. Trust me. She wants more.”

  CHAPTER 14

  I had been staying with Flex for about a week and he had been true to his word all that time. Not once had he tried to push up on me in a sexual way. Instead, he had bent over backward tryna shower me with all kinds of treats.

  He’d brought an old lady named Mrs. Freeman down those rickety stairs to wash and style my hair, and after using that rough-ass bar soap on Rikers Island, I was happy as hell to feel and smell some real salon products being lathered all over my head.

  The last person who had done my hair had been DarQuese, and sitting there with a towel draped over my shoulders while Mrs. Freeman combed conditioner through my hair brought back some real painful memories.

  Later on, I was surprised when a bow-legged Asian chick came down the stairs with a nail kit and gave me a dope manicure and pedicure. She chatted her ass off in Chinese, and I talked right back to her in English. It felt so good to be pampered again, but then Flex messed around and told me where he’d gotten all those damn people from.

  “Oh, they work upstairs for the funeral home,” he said nonchalantly. “Mrs. Freeman is real cool. She hooks up the dead ladies’ makeup and hair, and the Chinese chick polishes their nails.”

  My skin crawled at the thought that those same hands that worked on dead people had been touching all over me. But I didn’t have time to get stupid about it because I was waiting for Flex to break out for a little while so I could get back on his laptop.

  I had emailed Rita when he left me by myself earlier, and Miss Computer Whiz emailed me back with instructions on how to download Skype so we could talk face to face.

  “Whatever you do,” Rita warned me when her face popped up on the screen. “Don’t pop ya head up in Harlem, Juicy. Dutchy ran into somebody working undercover on the force who’s tight with Ace. Them fools don’t want you dead like we first thought. They want you alive.”

  I got scared again. The only reason them niggahs wanted me alive was so they could torture my ass. I woulda preferred to die then let them drag me down into the Dungeon and tie me up again in the G-Spot.

  “But I can’t stay down here in this basement much longer,” I told Rita. “Flex’s black ass is crazy. He’s almost as bad as G. I gotta find someplace else to go.”

  Rita looked real sad on the camera.

  “I’ll keep working on it. It’s just that everybody I know and trust is right here in Harlem. Which is exactly where you don’t wanna be seen.”

  “How’s Nooni?” I asked. “I’m sorry, girl. I’m over here complaining when I shoulda been asking about your sister.”

  Rita shrugged.

  “I haven’t heard anything from her or anybody else. Dutchy still has a few eyes on the G-Spot, though. We’re just watching and waiting, and praying too. But really, it’s their move.”

  I heard that. I had somebody waiting on me to make a move, too. Earlier that day Flex had handed me a large box that had a dope three-thousand-dollar Fendi dress inside. It was a classy cut, in a beautiful shade of emerald green, and inside the big box was a smaller box that held a pair of cute diamond earrings and a platinum tennis bracelet. He had already bought me a couple of pairs of jeans and some cute tee shirts, but this was something way different.

  “What’s all this for?” I asked him. I was getting used to him sporting a different tailored suit everyday, but I hadn’t worn anything this fancy in a minute. “We going somewhere?”

  Flex just grinned and shook his head.

  “Nah, baby. We ain’t gotta go nowhere special for me to wanna put you in finery, Juicy. All this is for us, baby. I’m looking good for you, and I want you to look good for me too. It ain’t about nobody else.”

  That shit creeped me right out. Flex was like a weird-ass kid trying to play big man. I wasn’t about to get all dressed up just to watch movies in his basement. It had been over a week since I’d gotten out of jail, and I hadn’t been above the ground not one single time.

  “That’s okay,” I had said, turning down his gift and handing him back the box. He could keep that shit. The last thing I wanted Flex to think was that we was some kind of Bonnie and Clyde couple. “I’m good. Thanks, though.”

  He stared at me real hard, then started spitting like a maniac but real quiet-like.

  “You know what? You’s a ungrateful bitch, Juicy. You don’t appreciate nothing a niggah try to do for you! Look at all the shit I got for you! You got everything you need right here. Everything. If you want something I ain’t got, then just tell me and I’ll go out and get that shit!”

  I fixed his skinny black ass.

  “I want a phone charger, Flex. I need my phone so I can make some calls. Can you go out and get me that?”

  “You know,” he pouted and straight igged my request, “I could be one of them sorry muh’fuckas who just gets up in your pussy and treats you like a hoe, but no. I’m treating you like a lady, Juicy. Like a real lady. And you don’t even ’preciate that shit.”

  “I do, Flex,” I insisted. “You like a little brother to me, and I appreciate everything you been doing. I just need a phone charger so I can use my phone.”

  His face got real twisted. “I ain’t your fuckin’ brother, Juicy. I ain’t trying to be your brother.”

  I sucked my teeth. “Okay then. I just don’t wanna get dressed up to sit around and watch you play no damn video games.”

  I walked back into my room and turned on the television, but I wasn’t hardly watching it.

  Instead, I was thinking. There was a time when I had been real stupid and naïve, but I wasn’t any more. I saw where Flex was going with all his crazy bullshit. I saw exactly where he was trying to get me. In a corner. In a box. In a small little space where only he had access to me. A space that only he controlled.

  But it wasn’t happening. The days when I let a niggah hem me up in his fantasy were over. Flex might be throwed off, but if he pushed me hard enough I could get throwed off too. The next time he unlocked that basement door I was going out with him. There were plenty of knives in Flex’s kitchen, and I didn’t care what I had to do, or who I had to fuck up, the next time that door opened up I was leaving.

  CHAPTER 15

  “Nooni’s little ass needs a job,” Salida told Monique. “I’m tired of her sitting around here looking pretty but not doing shit. That girl is a liar and a thief, and I want you to put her ass to work.”

  “Me?” Monique said, thinking about how pissed Nooni had been after she jumped in the bed and finger-fucked her until she came. “That chick is mad at me. We ain’t even hardly speaking.”

  “Look, me and you work our asses off, right? Hell, everybody up in this joint is about a hustle except her. All that warming up barstools is out the door now, and she’s gotta start bringing in some money. Besides, how the hell is she not gonna speak to you when she’s living up under your roof and eating your food? You better get her ass in check real quick, honey. Don’t you ever let a young girl play you. Remember that.”

  “So you want me to put her to work?” Monique asked skeptically. “Where?”

  Salida grinned. “Remember when I told you how to get rid of her little friend Bubbles? By telling them you hosted private parties in Philly and Atlantic City and you only had room for one more girl?”

  Monique nodded. She saw exactly where this was going and she couldn’t believe Salida’s predatory ass was taking it there.

  “Well we’re gonna follow through on all that and make it come true. I want you to rope Nooni’s ass like a calf and tie her down so tight that she don’t even think about going nowhere.

  “I want you to put her ungrateful ass through a meat grinder so we can get her ready to work the rooms and generate some cash. If anybody can school her and get her trained up right,” Salida said in a flattering tone, “I know you can, Mon
ique. Blast her all over Craig’s List. Hit those kinky-ass white men who like to bang hot brown bodies like hers. You’re the slickest stripper in Harlem, Monique. I want you to turn Nooni’s ass out and show how to make some money. Shiiit, she’s been laying around giving up all that pussy to Truth for free, right? Well, now it’s time for her to get it together and start contributing to the family business.”

  $$$$$

  Salida had told Monique to put Nooni in a trick bag, and that’s exactly what she was gonna do. She’d posted an ad on Craig’s List and found just the right trick to roll with, and every detail had been planned to perfection.

  “Remember,” Monique told the young girl, “you gotta get the money first, then make him take off all his clothes so he can’t chase you when you run out the room.”

  The first time Nooni hustled a trick Monique had participated in the party and they’d worn matching bob-cut wigs. Nooni’s was flaming red and Monique’s was light blue, and they’d had on skin-tight little cat suits in the same color. They’d drank gin and partied with the trick for a couple of hours before going in for the kill. Monique had even let him suck on her titties a little bit just to make him think he was really getting some.

  But as soon as they got his clothes off and got his cash, both girls had jetted from the room taking the trick’s clothes with them.

  Tonight’s show was gonna go down a little different. The trick had specifically asked for someone who was into role-playing. When Monique pressed him for details, she found out he was looking for somebody to whip his ass and punish him. Monique had immediately doubled the price and started prepping Nooni.

  “Now I already told you this dude is a little shy,” Monique said as she rubbed bright green eye shadow on the girl’s upper lids. “He’s one of them S&M freak who likes young bitches, and that’s probably because he’s got a real little dick.”