“C’mon now, Dani, you know he’s a cop, right?” Cory asked.
“Well, does he have to stay on duty when he’s at home? We ain’t fucking criminals.” Danielle countered.
“That nigga stays on duty twenty-four-seven. That’s why my moms left his ass. We’ll just chill-lax at the park, okay. That way I won’t hear your mouth complaining about nothing.” Cory said and took his eyes off the road for a beat to kiss her lips. He managed to steer the car out of danger when it swerved.
“Hmm,” Danielle responded. “Your pops don’t give me a chance to do this,” she said. Her hands were busy rubbing the ripple of his abs muscles. The bulge in his RocaWear jeans grew larger. She raised his sweat top and kissed hard on his chest, bit his nipple then blew in his ear. Danielle knew that blowing in his ear drove him mad. Cory squirmed behind the steering wheel, doing everything he could to keep the car steady on the roadway. Danielle had other ideas. She fidgeted with his crotch, tugging to loosen his belt and zipper.
“Let’s do it while you’re driving real fast,” Danielle seductively suggested. She blew a wet kiss in his ear. Cory shivered. His palms became sweaty and he gripped the steering wheel tighter.
“You’re bugging,” he breathed. Really hoping she wasn’t.
“Think so?” She kissed his stomach. The car raced. His heartbeat kept pace with the engine. She toyed with his zipper, sliding the nail of her index finger up and down the ridges of his zipper, then his stomach. His muscles tightened at her touch. Cory breathed deeply, trying to control himself behind the fast moving car. Danielle slowly unzipped his fly and her hands greeted his hard member, protruding proudly from its perch. She leaned over and gripped his left leg with her right hand. The penis disappeared between her lips as the car moved faster. Her tongue lapped at his exposed genitals.
“Yeah, ahhh, yeah, yeah,” Cory murmured as the excitement took his mind for a pleasant ride.
Danielle sucked hard. The tip of her tongue was tantalizing and Cory gripped the wheel of the fast moving car, holding on for dear life. Danielle’s lips slid up and down his rock-hard member until the head pointed stiffly to the roof of the car. Facing to the road, she parted her legs and straddled his hardness. Danielle leaned on the top of the dashboard and rocked her exposed ass back and forth in Cory’s lap. Cory thrashed about in the seat as Danielle moved gently at first.
She was riding him skillfully now as she watched the highway disappearing beneath the car. Cory stabbed, jerking his muscular torso. Danielle closed her eyes and grunted. The car hopped over potholes Cory was unable to locate. The motion of the car forced her up and down, and then she was swinging back and forth, up and down, back and forth, until he felt the explosion and thought he had blown a gasket. It was the front end of the car.
“Damn!” he yelled.
“Oh yess, baby. Hot damn! Keep moving, baby, keep it moving. Oh yeah!” Danielle shouted. She was launched into ecstasy when she felt the heat of his dick inside her stomach. The engine revved loudly but the wheels just spun.
“Baby,” Cory said still stroking up and down all the time trying to stop. “I think we’re stuck.”
“Yeah baby we’re stuck. Your dick game is real baby. Oh yeah!” Danielle screamed.
“No baby. I mean we’re stuck in a hole.”
“This pussy is too tight, huh? Got you stuck for sheesy.”
“Yeah, baby. Oh yeah! But baby we’re really stuck,” Cory screamed.
“What, what are you talking about? Am I not able to slide all up and down on it.” Danielle asked.
“No! I mean yess! But the car is stuck in a hole.” Cory was finally able to say.
“We must have hit a big hole, because we can’t move,” he said. Danielle closed her eyes and continued to ride his shaft. Cory caressed and squeezed her breasts, shoving harder into the moistness of her flesh. He stepped but the car did not budge from the hole.
“Oh yeah, baby. We gotta stop and get out of the car before we get hit,” he said, still shoving his erection deep inside her. After much difficulty Cory was able to turn the hazard lights on.
“Oh... Ooh...oh, yess! I feel you baby deep inside of me. Huh, don’t stop,” Danielle screamed. She shook her head moving her ass faster and faster. Up and down until she let out a forceful groan. “Oh, ah, ah, aghhhhh Lord!” Then there was complete quiet. Cory gunned the engine and pulled on the steering wheel, trying to direct the car out of the pothole, but to no avail.
The wheels just spun. They were stuck, indeed. The ticking of the hazard lights sounded like a time bomb. Danielle sat back in the passenger seat. She noticed cars going by, the drivers honking their horns. “Damn,” she said, “that shit was good.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” Cory said. “You got yours.” He sounded a little annoyed. He zipped up his jeans and stepped madly out of the car just barely missing get hit by a eighteen wheeler. It swooshed by him as the driver sat on the horn. “Damn stupid! Can’t you see my lights flashing? You fucking idiot!”
“Yo, your ass is really stuck, kid?”
Danielle heard the voice and knew that it belonged to Lil’ Long. Vulcha was driving. They pulled up alongside Cory.
“Damn!” Lil’ Long announced. “How did you miss this big hole, kid?”
“My girl was driving. She didn’t see it coming. Sorta snuck up on us.” Cory answered as he covered his tracks. Lil’ Long peered into the car. Immediately he recognized Danielle.
“Yeah, yeah. That bitch is one them funky ass video dancing bitch from da club. Yeah, you’re gonna miss some potholes. Shit, the way I’d be all over that bitch, I’d be falling in holes too, kid. Up under that dress and all that, you know what I’m saying, right?”
Danielle watched as Lil’ Long spoke, not able to clearly hear the words. She saw how the light of the street reflected from his gold-capped teeth whenever his lips parted. Tacky nigga, she thought, as she stepped out of the car. A speeding car barely missed her. The driver honked loudly as he went by.
“Get out the road you moron!” The driver yelled.
“Oh my freaking God! Shit!” Danielle screamed. “Fuck you! Stupid bitch!” Danielle yelled at the driver.
“Get back in the car. I got this.” Cory screamed. “Get in the driver’s seat and steer it. Give it gas slowly. Try to move it slow. Then me and my man here will lift. Remember slowly,” Cory loudly instructed.
“Lil’ Long,” the help said as he introduced himself. Cory was busy with the task at hand and ignored him.
“On three,” Cory shouted. “One, two, three. Oomph,” he grunted. The wheel remained captive in the deep pothole.
“Gimme another count,” Lil’ Long said.
“Let’s change positions,” Cory said.
“Cool,” Lil’ Long said.
Cory moved directly above the stuck wheel. He heaved without saying anything. The wheel made it over the edge, and Cory eased the front of the car down.
“You is a cock-diesel muthfucka,” Lil’ Long said noticeably impressed. “Do you lift? I used to, back in da days. When I was lock down in da penal, but I ain’t done that shit in a minute. You feel me?”
“Good looking out, man.” Cory said extending a handshake.
“I’m Lil’ Long,” he said, pounding his fist against Cory’s outstretched palm. “A cock-strong nigga like you, damn, I know you be fucking da dog shit outta that bitch, kid.”
Cory flinched. “Alright, man. I’m out, and that bitch, she’s my girl,” Cory said and swung his frame into the car.
“Ahight my nigga. Stroke her twice for da brother. See ya.” Lil’ Long jumped into the Navigator and Vulcha sitting behind the wheel, peeled off.
“Yo, that bitch is bad, Vulcha.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Real bad, sun.”
“If she was that bad, why didn’t you bag it, then?” Vulcha watched Lil’ Long clutch his crotch.
“Bidness before pleasure.” Lil’ Long smiled and removed the Glock-17 from insi
de his shorts. “That muthafucka was definitely trying to show out. I should’ve bagged his bitch. What time is it, kid?” Lil’ Long asked.
“Eleven-fifty.”
“Yeah, that muthafucka should be home fucking sump’n.”
“Let’s make a check,” Vulcha said.
“Yeah, yeah, let’s go check that nigga.” Lil’ Long nodded.
SEVEN
Deja stepped out of the Pepsi blue BMW and checked his waist. The gun was there. He walked across the street and unlocked the door. Deja walked upstairs to his second-floor apartment. He heard the phone ringing as soon as he entered the one bedroom abode. Deja picked up on the third ring.
“Who dis?” he yelled.
“It’s Bebop. What’s really hood, nigga?”
“Just walked up in my place, baby-girl.”
“What are you getting into tonight?” Bebop asked
“You, girl. Bring that Ghetto ass on over here.”
“Bwoy you wuz just with your baby mother. Ain’t her ass big enough. I don’t think you need any more ass at all,” Bebop said with her thick Jamaican twang.
“I had to drop some loot off for my seed. Shorty is growing. But I need some o’ that sweet, ragamuffin-style punani. You feel me? So, you saw me when I was up in da building?”
“No,” Coco said you helped her drag her laundry cart down. “You probably tried to push-up on her, too. Right?”
“Stop playing and bring that ass on over here, girl.”
“Alright. I am suppose to be studying, but I’ll come by in about a half and keep you company for a while. And by the way, don’t ask me to stay the whole night either because I’m not going to.”
“Baby-doll that’s all good. I’ll see you in a half hour.”
He hung up. Cool, Deja thought. I’ll chill, watch a flick and get my swerve on with Bebop when she comes.
Deja showered and changed into a red silk robe and matching boxers. With remote in hand, he sipped VSOP from a glass while channel surfing on his HD wide screen television. Bored, he put down the remote and rolled a blunt. He checked the time and lit it. Easing into the pleasure, Deja glanced at the snap shot of his son, Roshawan. His mind reflected on his two-year-old boy. Yeah, he’s growing. And handsome like his pops. Got his daddy’s nose. Damn! I’ve got to make sure he gets his, Deja thought.
Puffing on the blunt had him leaning, thinking about things like school for his child. Deja never completed school, but he vowed his son would. He puffed, licked his lips and reached for the cognac. He had the money to do something for his kid and planned on using the cheddar he had stacked from his grind. All his life Deja had scrambled for his and was a survivor of foster care and group homes. Early in his life Deja hated everyone, but enjoyed learning.
The formal education abruptly came to an end the day his friend, Mark, was shot to death in front of the school. Deja, who had run back into the school for what he thought would be a quick second, returned to find Mark clinging to life. There was a bullet-hole so deep that he saw all of Mark’s insides. Deja ran away from the group home and never returned to school.
The street offered a different education, and Deja was a fast learner. He learned to deal drugs. Deja was good at it, hooked up with the right set and the game rewarded him. When he displayed the fruits of his labor, girls flocked around him, lusting for cash. He could have his pick of the litter and Deja chose Kimberly. She was good looking, wifey material and had the most perfectly round ass he had ever seen. Kim, she’s Numero uno. And she’s the mother of my seed, he thought. I might just have to push up a girl in her womb. Kim claimed she wouldn’t have anymore kids for Deja until he gave up his den of hootchies.
Deja knew there were always girls. Bad guys attracted them like flies. Bebop was one of his. She had been living in the same building as Kimberly for six years and had been sharing Deja’s bed for three. She knew about the situation with Kimberly, but played her role and never made a fuss. And Bebop has that ghetto butt, too.
The doorbell rang. And boy, doesn’t she have some sweet trimmings to go with that ass? His reflection turned to lust as he got up to buzz his expected company into the building. Deja checked his gun and dimmed the light, setting the mood just right. He rubbed his hands when he heard the knock. Deja moved quietly and checked the peephole. He could see that it was Bebop and unlocked the three bolts. Deja with only one thing on his mind, opened the door wide to greet her.
“What’s up…what da fuck is wrong with…” Deja never completed the sentence. Startled as she flung herself at him, he knew there was no chance for him when he saw the other faces. They were uninvited. Oh shit! It’s a hit. He jumped back, but his reactions were already late. Lil’ Long and Vulcha were all over him like cheap cologne. Deja stumbled backwards, falling onto the carpet. He saw the blood and realized that he had been shot. The bullet had come through Bebop’s back. Deja felt the burning and saw his blood trickling. He had not heard the gun go off. He grabbed at his chest. The blood spurted out of him at a rapid rate.
“Why da fuck are you doing this to me?” Deja gasped. He glanced at Bebop. Her body, with that nice ass, lay still. He wished he had his gun. The phone began to ring. Even if they did-n’t mean to kill him, he may still bleed to death. Lil’ Long walked past him and picked up the receiver. Vulcha closed the door with a backward kick of his right leg. Maybe they just wanted money, thought Deja. He looked at Vulcha’s nine millimeter. The place was quiet. He could hear the caller.
“Deja, Deja, Deja, I know you’re there, fucking that Jamaican slut. You ho! I don’t understand your ass, first you wanna be all up in me then you run home to fuck her. Deja, fuck you. I’m coming over to kick your ass.”
He could hear Kimberly raving on the line. Deja wanted to scream out to her Call da cops. Call my niggas. He couldn’t move his lips and lay helpless, blood gushing from his chest. Lil’ Long put the phone down. “I know you’re there with that fucking ho. Don’t bring any diseases that nasty bitch give your ass to me. Fuck you Deja.”
There was a click. Deja saw Lil’ Long pick up the gun on the table, next to the blunt he’d been smoking.
“Sounds like someone real mad atcha, dogs.” Lil’ Long laughed.
My seed. As much as he tried to squeeze the words out, they remained stuck in his throat. Fuck it, he thought Kimberly will make sure my seed survives. Deja’s eyes watched as Lil’ Long walked closer to him. He put Deja’s gun to his head.
“In my quest to become immortal, a whole lot of bitches and weak muthfuckas must die.”
He fired twice. The bullets smashed Deja’s frontal lobe and destroyed his thoughts. Blood rushed from Deja’s ears, mouth and eyes. His body collapsed on the soft blue carpet, now stained with bright red blood.
“Da bitch is alive?” Lil’ Long asked.
“Not anymore,” Vulcha said. He sent two more slugs through Bebop’s back. Lil’ Long wiped the guns clean. He walked over to the phone and wiped it, also.
“Take that nigga’s Rolie. He won’t need da shit,” Lil’ Long ordered.
Vulcha searched Deja’s pockets.
“Muthfucka had a lil’ bit cheddar.” Vulcha was pleased at the discovery.
Lil’ Long, using a towel, placed his gun in Deja’s fingers. He folded Bebop’s fingers around Deja’s gun. Then he stepped back and admired his handiwork like an artist would.
“This shit will confuse da fuck out of da police. This nigga is stinking. Let’s bounce,” Vulcha said. They quickly left by the fire escape.
“I never liked his ass anyway. Fucking crack dealer,” Lil’ Long said. He jumped in the black Navigator and settled down comfortably as Vulcha drove away. They both puffed on a blunt which had been Deja’s final smoke.
“Yo, man. Let’s go to that tittie bar,” Lil’ Long suggested.
“Yeah, my nig, now you talkin’. Let’s go fuck around with ’em naked bitches!” Vulcha yelled excitedly.
“I gotta fuck sump’n tonight, tonight,” Lil’ Long shouted.<
br />
“Yeah, yeah. Lets go get couple bottles of Dom P., and fuck around with ’em bitches,” Vulcha said. “Only the ones with the big titties getting tips,” Vulcha howled as the engine of the SUV roared. The idea made Vulcha hype as tires screeched and the Navigator swerved in a new direction.
“Here man, from now on you don’t have to ask me the time. Here’s your own rolie.” Vulcha said and threw the watch at Lil’ Long. “Can’t say I ain’t never give you anything.” Vulcha added.
“Ahight, that’s what I’m talking bout, a rolie from my nigga. That’s ahight. That’s ahight. Remind me when we get to that tittie bar, I should buy you your own bottle. My nig.” Lil’ long wiped the watch clean and beamed at the shine of the diamond encrusted bezel. “Yeah nigga lets get us some ass. I’m fucking tonight,” Lil’ Long screamed as the SUV made it’s way to the desired venue.
In the strippers’ bar, where topless waitresses served drinks and Buffalo wings. Being big-tippers, the two received VIP treatment all the time. They were known as heavy spenders and the prospect of big tips licensed them to rub, touch and finger the waitresses. Lil’ Long took full advantage of the privilege. Usually, Vulcha just stared at every pair of huge breasts that passed by. Occasionally he would explore them, like a blind man reading Braille, using nipples as reference points.
They immediately ordered two bottles of Dom Perignon in rapid succession. Lil’ Long visited the men’s room, pausing to kiss a few exposed belly buttons on the way. Men sat at small tables, watching the dancers take turns peeling off clothes, each in their own style. The beat was constant Hip-Hop sprinkled with a little bit of R&B. Lil’ Long danced back to the table, where Vulcha now drank champagne from the bottle.
“Aw shit,” Lil’ Long hollered and plopped down on the soft seat.
“What da dealie?” Vulcha asked. He put the bottle down. “Nigga, did ya got so excited you pissed on yourself?”
“Nah, nah, da muthfucka left blood all over my Bill Blass, man. Had to wash that shit off.” He watched Vulcha guzzle from the bottle. “Ya know its bad manners to be drinking from da bottle, Vulcha.”
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