Married to the Game

by Chunichi

  “So, you’re Sexy Sixty-nine?” he asked as I climbed in the truck.

  “Yep. You disappointed?” I said sarcastically.

  “Do I look disappointed?” he answered with a question.

  Honestly, I could not read him at all. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking.

  “Guess not.”

  “Good. So, where we headed?” Snake put the truck in reverse.

  I wanted to go back to my place, but I was afraid it may be too much for Snake to handle. I totally remodeled the bedroom, so it didn’t even resemble the old one. The crime scene was too much for me to handle as well. The old bedroom was a constant reminder of the murders. I decided to take my chances with the house.

  “You can go to my crib,” I said cautiously.

  He looked uncertain, but agreed. A few minutes later we were at my house. I punched in the code and we entered the gate. I jumped out of the truck and headed to the door. When I unlocked it, I noticed Snake still sitting in the truck.

  “Come on in,” I yelled.

  He just sat there, shaking his head.

  “I can’t do it, ma,” he responded.

  I guess my house wasn’t the best choice after all. But I wasn’t giving up. I didn’t live far from the beach, and there were plenty of hotel options on the oceanfront. I headed back to the truck.

  “It’s cool. I understand. Let’s get a room at the beach.”

  We pulled out of the gate and headed back out. That was close. I thought that may have ruined the night, so I had to get back to horny. I began to rub his inner thigh, working my way toward his penis. He still seemed to be distracted and unmoved. I was sure Vegas was on his mind, and if I didn’t think fast, the night would come to an abrupt end. I had no choice. I had to suck his dick.

  I popped in a cough drop and unzipped his pants. I gently pulled out his penis and massaged it with my tongue, making sure I got it nice and moist. I didn’t want to take the chance of starting a fire, jerking a dry dick. Giving head wasn’t my specialty, but I could get the job done. My goal was not to make him cum, but to get him back in the mood.

  Snake moaned with pleasure as he rubbed his hand through my hair. Eventually, my rhythm was guided by the pressure of his hand forcing my head up and down.

  It didn’t take long for us to arrive at the hotel. I was relieved when we arrived because my jaws were getting rather tired. We stopped at the front desk, and minutes later we had a room. We quickly headed to our suite. The entire way, Snake’s phone and Sidekick were constantly going off. Each time he would press end, sending the caller to voice mail. That was the best option Nextel could have ever come up with.

  I was eager to get a taste of that loving Mickie had often bragged about. I hurried to get the mood right. I turned on the radio, turned off the lights and cracked the balcony door so we could hear the waves crashing against the shore. The room came with chilled champagne, so I popped open the bottle and poured us both a glass. Drunken sex was always the best sex, so a little alcohol wouldn’t hurt. After we finished the last glass of champagne, Snake pulled out a blunt.

  “I have to hit this before I do anything. It takes the drunken edge off. You wanna hit?” he offered.

  “Hell nah!” I instantly refused.

  Drugs were no longer part of my diet. A couple of years ago I would have had my own personal stash, but not any more. I’d seen the effects of drugs; they cost Vegas his life. I took my last smoke that day, and I’ve been drug free ever since.

  As soon as Snake finished smoking he began to undress. I started to unbutton my shirt and he grabbed my arms and pinned them to the bed. He got on top of me and began to suck and bite my neck. He snatched my shirt open, popping the buttons off.

  “You want this dick?” he asked.

  “Yes, give it to me,” I begged.

  He continued to pull my clothes off, tearing my panties and bra. Then he stopped moving completely.

  “You don’t want it,” he said.

  I figured he wanted me beg, so I played along.

  “Please give it to me, Snake. Fuck this pussy.”

  That must have given him the drive he needed because he lifted me off the bed, rolled on his back, and straddled me across his lap.

  “Well, show me then,” he said as he sat me on his big black handle, which resembled a king-sized Snickers.

  Boy, did he and Vegas have a lot in common. We had sex in every position one could think of. By the time we finished, my body was sore and bruised. The sex we had was nothing like the passionate lovemaking experiences Mickie would speak about. Our sex was quite opposite. It was rough, hard, and sweaty. Snake didn’t caress me, kiss me, or take it slow. In fact, there were times when he would choke me, pull my hair, and even smack me.

  I asked him about the difference as I lay on the bed, still naked. “Wow! That was a different performance from the stories I’ve been told.”

  He looked at me blankly as he got dressed.

  “Oh, well. New bitch, new tricks, I guess.” He continued to get dressed without even looking at me. He pulled out his Sidekick and began to type. I looked over his shoulders and read:

  GOT ’EM-OR RATHER SHE GOT ME.

  The message was simple. I wasn’t sure of the meaning, but I didn’t bother to inquire.

  “I got to run. How much is a cab going to cost you to get back to the club?” he asked as he laced his brand new wheat-colored Tims.

  I couldn’t believe this nigga had the audacity to even think I was getting my sexy ass in a cab. I thought maybe I’d misunderstood him, so I asked for clarification.

  “Excuse me? Did you ask about a cab?”

  “Yeah. How much you need? I don’t have time to take you back to the club. I gotta run.”

  I laughed to keep from snapping off on him. “Honey, I don’t do cabs.”

  “Okay, I’ll have my li’l soldier come scoop you,” he said as he opened his cell phone.

  “Duke, I need you to come to my spot at the oceanfront, room one-twelve, and pick up this chick for me. She’ll be going back to the strip joint ... One.” He closed the phone and headed for the door.

  “Can I pencil you in for next week? Same time, same place?” I asked.

  “Yeah, hit me up,” he said as he closed the door behind him.

  I jumped in the shower to clean myself up. As I dried off, I examined myself in the mirror. Snake had been really rough during sex. I had a bruise on my hip, neck and butt cheeks. I heard a bang on the door. I answered in my towel to entice Snake’s li’l soldier a little. “Hi, Little Soldier,” I said as I admired his jewelry.

  He wore a rose-gold soldier charm flooded with diamonds. He reminded me so much of Vegas it was ridiculous.

  “Little?” he said as he looked at me seductively.

  “I’m sorry. Did I offend you?” I asked as I propped my leg on the bed beside him and began to lotion it.

  “Do I look like a little boy to you? Tell me one thing on me that reminds you of a little boy.”

  I looked at him and examined every part of his body. He was about five foot eleven inches, so he didn’t have the height of a little boy. He didn’t have a little boy cut, so that was out. His clothes were the shit, and his jewelry definitely wasn’t little boy-like. There was nothing I could readily say, so I took a shot at his manhood.

  “Well, from what I can see, there is nothing little boy about you. But there is a lot that I can’t see,” I said as I looked toward his penis.

  “Well, we can solve that now,” Duke said as he stood up.

  I was interested to see what he was packing, so I didn’t stop him. In fact, I encouraged him. “If it’s pleasing, I’ll drop my towel and show you what a big girl looks like.”

  Without hesitation, Duke unzipped his pants, pulled down his boxers and pulled out his penis. I had lost the bet. His johnson was the size of a full-grown man, and it wasn’t even hard yet. He knew I was pleased.

  “Drop the towel,” he demanded as he tugged on the fold just a
bove my breast.

  I smiled, un-tucked the towel, and let it drop to the floor.

  “Damn, girl,” he said as he licked his lips and massaged his penis.

  I watched it grow with every stroke. I knew I had to end the session before something terrible happened.

  “Okay, Little Soldier, you win. Get dressed. I got business to take care of. I’m in a hurry,” I said as I threw my clothes on and headed to the door.

  He followed behind me, disappointed that I left him hanging—literally.

  CHAPTER 7

  STILL TAILING THEM

  UNKNOWN MAN

  “Got ’em!” I said to myself as I watched Snake leave his favorite spot on the oceanfront: the Crown Grand Suites.

  I knew it wouldn’t be long before he gave in. Although a nigga tried to prepare for the worst, shit still hit hard. The thought of him fucking C has fucked my head up! I had a mind to do some real grimy shit and show them a part of me neither one of them would like to see. My wicked thoughts were distracted as Ceazia came into view.

  I watched Ceazia from the crack of her hotel room curtain. Her naked body was still perfect as she walked in the bathroom for a shower. Just the sight of her sexy frame took me back to the many nights we spent in five-star hotels. Our last trip was to Las Vegas, when I watched as she strutted across the hotel floor, modeling her brand new La Perla lingerie. She was like a kid on Christmas that day. We’d hit every designer store Las Vegas had to offer.

  Fifteen minutes later, my daydream was over and I focused my attention back on Ceazia’s hotel room. She was rushing out of the bathroom draped only in a towel as she headed toward the door. I wondered who could be there as I waited for her to walk back in view.

  “Duke? What the hell is he doing there?” I said aloud.

  Through the curtain I could see C’s freak ass throwing Duke the seduction game. I watched as she teased and taunted him. I could only wonder how long Duke would play along before making a move. Quicker than I’d expected, Duke responded to Ceazia’s little game. I couldn’t believe my eyes as Duke pulled down his pants and in a single motion, pulled his dick out.

  What the fuck! I know she’s changed and is playing the survival game, but I never thought this bitch would go this far. She fucking li’l boys and shit now?

  My stomach turned as I imagined the unthinkable, Ceazia and Duke fucking. There was no way I could let that shit go down. I jumped out of the car with gun in hand and headed toward the hotel room. I released the safety and cocked the gun back as I positioned myself close to the window for a better aim.

  This is it! I thought as I took one final glance into the window. I continued to watch as Duke pulled off Ceazia’s towel. I couldn’t bear to watch this shit any longer. Sweat began to bead up on my forehead and the pace of my breathing sped up. I swallowed then exhaled as I prepared to put this shit to an end. With gun in hand and fire in my eyes, I looked back at the room one last time before pulling the trigger.

  “Whew! That’s what’s up!” I said to myself as Duke and C exited the hotel room.

  I smiled, relieved that they didn’t engage in sex. I’d hate to have to knock that li’l nigga off. Although nothing happened this time, I knew it was not over. Knowing my li’l man, fucking C was a personal goal of his, and he wasn’t going to stop there. He may not have gotten her this time, but I was sure he was making her an objective. I just hoped C didn’t do anything to cause harm to herself or anyone else sooner than expected.

  Once I saw Duke and Ceazia pull off, I returned to my car, turned up Jay Z’s “99 Problems,” and drove off, content.

  CHAPTER 8

  BEAUTY SHOP GOSSIP

  DANIELLE

  It was another damn morning that Snake didn’t bring his ass home. Once again, his excuse was “I had to do an all-nighter.” Today, I wasn’t even worried about it. I was doing for Danielle. I had a full day of beautifying. To start the day off, I was going to get my hair done. Normally, I would do my own hair, but I’d been hearing a lot about this young lady in Norfolk by the name of DeeDee. I heard she did all the hottest styles from cornrows to colors to cuts. She did big heads, bald heads, knotty heads, chicken heads—it didn’t matter; DeeDee’s touch was like magic. Everyone came out of her shop with a nice ’do.

  I pulled up to Creative Styles located in the heart of Park Place at 9:00 A.M. sharp. I circled the block twice to be sure I got a parking spot as close to the shop as possible. I needed to be able to look out the window periodically to keep a constant check on my car. After parking, I grabbed my purse tightly, and pressed the lock button on my keychain and repeated to assure a definite lock. Then I quickly maneuvered my way through begging bums, playing kids, and dangerous drug dealers to get to the doors of the shop.

  “Hello, I have a nine o’clock appointment with DeeDee,” I told the receptionist as I walked in.

  Although the location and outer appearance of the shop was terrible, I was relieved to see the inside was really nice. I must say I was impressed. I took a seat close to the window and took turns watching television and my car, until it was my turn. I wasn’t there ten full minutes before Snake started calling my phone. I sent him directly to voice mail. I had no words for his ass. I had no plans on speaking to him the entire day.

  Maybe he’ll spend more time at home if I give him a taste of his own medicine, I thought as I constantly pressed the end button on my Baby Phat Nextel phone.

  As I waited, I listened to all the different stories the young ladies told. The stylist assistant was a slim girl with huge breasts. She was quite comical as she commented on every statement the young ladies would make. Every so often she would stop in the middle of her conversation, yell out numbers to everyone sitting in the waiting area, and direct them to their proper location by addressing them by their number.

  “Girl in the white, you’re number one. Beside her—two. Down the row—three, four, five, and six. Now, who all need relaxers ... color ... cuts? Okay, number one, sit in my chair and let me base you. Two—to the bowl. Three—be on standby,” she yelled then returned to her previous conversation.

  By the looks of things, she was running this shop like an assembly line. One slip-up and you were off the line. In the short time I was there, the assistant had already skipped over two clients. One was out taking a smoke break when her number was called, and the other was eating. The shop was packed, and I certainly didn’t plan on spending my entire day there. So to prevent that, I turned my attention away from the TV and toward the stylist stations.

  I listened alertly as the women talked about different men, baby momma drama, and other types of gossip. I was sure Snake’s name would come up, since this area was his stomping ground. Five minutes didn’t even pass before I heard it.

  “What you getting today?” DeeDee asked the poorly dressed woman that her assistant referred to as number one.

  “The works, gurl. Perm, trim, and sew-in,” she responded with her ghetto accent.

  “Umph. You must have hit the jackpot last night,” DeeDee suggested.

  “Or turned some tricks,” her assistant added underneath her breath.

  “No, I did not. My money-maka came in da club last night and broke me off or whateva,” the hoochie bragged.

  “And what stunts did you have to pull this time—Moet bottle up ya ass?” another one of the girls asked.

  “Nah, gurl. I got me a new nigga this week. I told y’all I been plotting, but y’all won’t trying to hear a bitch.”

  Then that’s when I heard the ultimate. “I got dat nigga Snake on my team!” the bitch bragged while rolling her giraffe neck.

  “Snake be breaking you off like that?” DeeDee asked in disbelief.

  The entire shop was in doubt. Everybody in there, including myself, had become silent with puzzled looks on our faces. And out of everybody in the shop with their faces balled up, this hoochie only noticed my facial expression.

  “Is there a reason yo’ face all balled up? Cuz won’t nobody ta
lking to yo’ ass,” she yelled instantly.

  Normally I wouldn’t respond, but I was boiling at the fact my man was spending large sums of money on that tramp. I stood up, grabbed my things, and headed toward the door, but before leaving I made one statement.

  “If you must know why I had such an expression on my face, it’s because Snake is my man, and I can’t believe he would spend our money on a tramp like you.” I darted out the door as fast as I could and headed for my car.

  “Thank God I parked close,” I said softly as I pressed the keychain to unlock the door.

  Pop!

  A striking pain flowed through my head. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to the car fast enough. That hussy had hit me in the head with her hooker heels.

  “You talkin’ all that shit, bitch. Now back dat shit up!” she yelled while pulling me by my hair. I turned around slowly as I struggled to gain my balance and focus.

  “Get the fuck off me, you beast!” I yelled as I struggled to free myself from the grips of the monster.

  It was like a circus around me. People were circled around us, screaming and yelling, “Fight! Fight! Beat her ass! Ooohhh! She knock the shit outta her!”

  I looked around quickly for an escape. Toward the shop, all I could see were women watching from the salon window. To my right was a female spectator with hanging tracks, and even a girl with a head full of relaxer. Out of all these people, I had not one person as a savior, so as a final strand of hope for survival, I opened the Mace on my keychain and emptied the can in her face. I could feel her grip on my hair loosen immediately. Once I realized I was free, I used that as an opportunity to talk shit and possibly redeem myself.

  “Take that, bitch. That will teach your ass to stay away from my man!”

  As the stripper ran for cover, I jumped in my car and drove off. I noticed my hair was wet and sticking to my neck. I found that odd because I don’t usually sweat. When I reached back to lift my hair off my neck, my hand was covered in blood. I rushed to the nearest hospital in a panic. When I got out of the car, there was blood all over the headrest. My head began to feel light as I walked in the emergency room.