Lipstick Hustla

by Allison Hobbs

  “Thank you,” she replied with a smile in her voice.

  She searched among the overflow of lotions, potions, and creams that covered the dresser top. The rattling and clanging drew Brick’s attention.

  She was naked beneath a large towel that was wrapped around her. Water beads dotted her shoulders, and slid down her arms. Brick checked out the mound of her ass. Umph! His pulse kicked up a notch; his manhood grew hard.

  “Have you seen my cream?” Thomasina inquired as she continued searching, moving objects and containers around.

  “What cream…your lotion?”

  “No. My special cream. I usually keep it in the bathroom, but I can’t find it.”

  “Is this what you’re looking for?” With a mischievous smile, Brick pulled out a white tube that he’d hidden under his pillow.

  “Baron! Why you hiding my cream, boy?”

  “Why you always sneaking and rubbing it on while you’re in the bathroom?”

  “The bathroom is a private place. Some things should be personal.”

  “Ain’t nothing personal between you and me. Come here, baby,” he said softly, reaching out to her.

  “Hand me my cream. I’ll be in bed in a few minutes.”

  “Nope. Come over here and explain to me what this stuff inside the tube is supposed to do for you.”

  Unconsciously, Thomasina wrapped the towel even tighter around her body.

  “Whatchu tryna hide from me?”

  “I’m embarrassed about my stretch marks.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s time to change all that. Right now. Now get yourself over here.”

  Taking reluctant steps, Thomasina approached the bed.

  Brick stood up. He aimed the remote at Pacino, whose gruff voice was interfering with the mood. He clicked to old school slow jams, the kind of music his baby loved to listen to.

  He hugged her moist body, and whispered in her ear, “Ever since you gave me a son, you’ve been uncomfortable being naked around me.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Yes, it is. I only get to feel your naked body…under the covers… in the dark. You sexy, baby. Why don’t you let me enjoy your body with the lights on?”

  “Baron, my stomach—”

  “Is beautiful.”

  “My stretch marks…” her voice trailed off with a sigh.

  “You ashamed of you and me?”

  “No!”

  “You love me?”

  “You know I do.”

  “So why are you embarrassed by the results of our love?” He began undoing the towel. Slowly pulled it away and began drying the droplets of water on her shoulder. He smoothed the towel across her breasts…brushing terrycloth across her stiffened nipples.

  A soft moan slipped past Thomasina’s lips.

  Holding the towel, Brick took a few steps back and sat on the edge of the bed. He pulled Thomasina forward.

  Beneath the bright overhead light that beamed from the ceiling, she stood in front of him. Naked. Exposed. Vulnerable.

  He took in her total body. “I like what I see.” Male appreciation shone clearly in his eyes as he gingerly dried her tummy, running the edge of the towel up and down each white-streak that she hoped the tube of stretch mark cream would miraculously eradicate.

  “Ain’t nothing wrong with your body. You’re my mate. My other half. And I feel nothing but love and pride every time I look at you.”

  “I know, Baron, but—”

  “Ain’t no buts.” He stared into her eyes. “There’s no reason for you to feel insecure about anything. In my eyes, you are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

  Thomasina laughed, self-consciously, shaking her head, denying her beauty.

  “Believe that,” Brick said sternly. “Because it’s true.” He lowered his head, kissed her soft stomach. Ran his tongue up and down the streaked flesh. “I love you, Thomasina.”

  Thomasina shuddered and closed her eyes blissfully.

  “Now what did you say these marks are called?” Brick asked, bringing her back to reality.

  “Stretch marks.”

  “Nah, them ain’t no stretch marks. They look like lines.”

  “What?”

  “Love lines. No, never mind. That’s corny. I’ma call these jawns love strokes.”

  “You crazy, Baron.” Thomasina giggled.

  “I’m not crazy. Those marks came from a whole lot of stroking.” He pulled her on the bed, eased off his boxer shorts, and covered her body with his.

  “You never heard of love strokes?”

  Laughing, Thomasina shook her head.

  The feeling of her dewy skin sent a surge of heat through him. He gripped the base of his erection. “Oh, aiight. I’ma show you what I’m talking about,” he said in a lustful groan.

  No time for foreplay. His dick was engorged. He’d take care of her later. Right now he had to get his thickness inside her familiar warmth.

  “Ah,” he sighed with relief. “I love this wet pussy. You believe that, don’tchu?”

  “Yes,” she panted, circling her hips.

  “Open up for me, baby. We ’bout to heat it up.”

  She wrapped her legs around his back, giving him complete access.

  “This is how it all started,” Brick whispered. “Remember that night when I was stroking you and begging you to let me plant my seed?”

  “I remember.”

  “You said you were scared.”

  “I was.”

  “You didn’t want to do it, but you did it for me. You took a big risk for me.”

  “I don’t regret it,” she purred.

  He thrust inside the hot cavern between her legs. “Do you like these strokes I’m giving you, baby?”

  “God, yes!” Her voice was broken with lust.

  “Stop tryna hide the evidence—” His words were cut off by a strangled groan as he tried to control himself…tried to fight off the heat of pleasure that burned swiftly through his system.

  Tension mounting, his sweat-dampened skin smacked against hers as he pumped his raging hard shaft in and out of her hot syrupy pussy. The feel of her pussy muscles clamping down on his engorged dick was almost too much to bear. Brick growled like an animal, trying to hold on…as her vagina pulsed and clenched, milking him of every drop of semen.

  CHAPTER 19

  Sailor was serious about getting his belongings. As soon as he made the money to pay Uncle Freaky, he was out of the apartment ready to hand over six hundred dollars for a suitcase filled with bullshit. He was a weirdo. Sweet. But still a weirdo.

  Troy was happy to have him out of the apartment until Misty told him about the job she had lined up for him.

  “Suppose I catch something?” Troy poked out his lips.

  “How you gon’ catch something by letting a mufucka jack off on your ass?” Misty rolled her eyes at Troy as hard as she could. The video he’d shot with Izell was getting a lot of hits and bringing in the bucks, but a lot of the tricks wanted to imitate the scene.

  There was always a reason for her madness. She took perverted and freaky pictures to put kinky ideas in non-creative mufuckas’ heads. Now Troy was frontin’…trying to fuck with her cash flow.

  “You gon’ have to send somebody else for that job, cuz I ain’t doing it,” Troy insisted.

  Misty glowered at him. “Who am I going to send? Stop frontin’. You the only person in the world walking around with an ashy-ass behind and you know it.”

  “Man, my skin only stays dry like that in the wintertime.”

  “You’re in denial. Your ass gets ashy five minutes after you step out of the shower. You go to bed ashy…and you wake up ashy every morning.”

  “That’s a lie.”

  “You ashy…Cashy! Accept it and get paid.”

  “No! I ain’t like the way it felt when Izell gushed his load on me. No, that shit felt slimy, yo.”

  “So what, Troy? Cum can’t hurt you.”

  “I ain’t with that. I did it fo
r the video—that’s it.”

  Announcing her displeasure, Misty inhaled and exhaled loudly.

  “Get mad. I don’t care,” Troy said boldly. “Anyway, you lied.”

  “What did I lie about?”

  “You said I was gonna get some of the profits from the video. Ain’t nothing came my way yet.”

  Misty’s wheels started turning as she mentally browsed through the lie she would tell. “The video is doing well, but I didn’t make no money off of it yet.”

  “Man, you must think I’m slow.”

  “Seriously. I didn’t get shit for that video. Mufuckas have to pay with credit cards. It takes thirty days for that money to clear. I’ma break you off when I get it.”

  “So how you get the money to drive that new whip?”

  “It didn’t cost that much. It’s used, Troy. Did you check out the miles on this bitch?”

  “Nah, I didn’t even pay no attention to that.” Ashamed, he lowered his gaze.

  “See. You always bitching about something and you don’t even know what you’re talking about. Use your head. Why would I cheat you? You’re my best worker. You’ve been with me the longest. You and me are in a relationship.”

  “You be talking that same relationship bullshit to Sailor. That half-cracker mufucka be going around telling people that you’re his girl.”

  “Let him think whatever he wants. We needed extra help. I had to pretend to be his girl to pull him. But you know the truth. You know how I feel about you. What you and me have is forever. Sailor is going to leave eventually. He wants to go back to that whack town he’s from and go to college and shit. Don’t worry about me and him. That’s only temporary.”

  “You be messing with my head, Misty.”

  “How long have I been fucking with you?”

  “A long time. Like a coupla years.”

  “Don’t that count for something? What me and you have is real. And you know it, Troy. But I need you, baby. I need you to do this for me. Please. I’m trying to stack so we can get up out of this dump we’re living in. I want us both to be wheeling something fly. Personally, I want a red Lamborghini. Don’t you want one?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  “What color?”

  “Black on black.”

  “Let’s make it happen. Work with me, baby. You my biggest star. Them muscle-bound niggas ain’t got nothing on you.”

  Troy cracked a smile.

  Misty was getting close, but she hadn’t sealed the deal. “I’m doing the hardest part. Letting a trick jack-off on your ass is easy. But the good part is when you get finished, you get paid and you get to come home to this.” She patted the crotch of her jeans. “That anaconda between your legs be needing to stretch out inside my walls.” Troy was weakening. She could tell by the expression on his face. “Fuck Philly. As soon as we get some real paper, we outta here. We gon’ get it poppin’ with the rich and fabulous in New York. Miami. Los Angeles or somewhere. Feel me?”

  “Yeah, I feel you,” Troy said, smiling broadly. Nodding his head as he imagined himself poppin’ champagne and living it up with the stars.

  “Play your part, baby. Work with me. Don’t even think about it too hard. Pretend like it’s somebody else’s ass getting nutted on. But you gotta do this for us. After your work is done, then you can bring your lanky ass home to me.”

  “I gotchu. I can do that.”

  Misty smiled with satisfaction.

  “When we gon’ go test drive the Lambo?” Troy asked excitedly.

  “Damn, Troy. One thing at a time. We gotta get a bigger crib, first. Aiight?”

  “Yeah, aiight,” he mumbled.

  After she dropped Troy off at his client, Misty sent Sailor a text. He’d left in the morning and it was eight o’clock at night. All he was supposed to do was pick up his shit from Uncle Freaky’s house and then bounce. What the hell was taking so long?

  Indignant, she called his cell…the cell she’d paid for so that they could stay in touch. Her call went to voice mail. What the fuck?

  When her cell suddenly rang, she answered without checking the caller ID. “Sailor! Where the hell have you been?”

  “This is Marshall.”

  Misty let out a shocked gasp. She had never expected to hear that voice again.

  “How’d you get my number and what the hell do you want?”

  “I want you to leave Sailor and the rest of my boys alone.”

  “You better kiss my ass. Did Sailor pay that money he owed you?”

  “I declined to accept.”

  “Is he still there?”

  “Yes, this is his home.”

  “The hell if it is! Mufucka, put Sailor on the phone!” she screamed.

  “I prefer to keep you two apart. Far apart,” he added.

  “Do you know who you fucking with? Nigga, I will fuck your faggot ass up. I’ma send rocks through all your windows. Climb through and whip your ass.” Blinded by anger, Misty almost lost control of the X5.

  “That sounds like a terroristic threat. For the safety of me and my boys, I’m going to have to file a protection of abuse.”

  “I’ma show you some abuse when I put my foot all the way up your faggoty ass.”

  The phone went dead. Uncle Freaky had apparently heard enough.

  Uncle Freaky was out-of-pocket. Who did that faggot think he was dealing with? He needed an ass whooping, for real. She couldn’t depend on Troy for muscle. His skinny self couldn’t beat nobody.

  It was times like this when she needed Brick to go upside a mufucka’s head. Brick! Damn, nigga. I need you, she screamed in her head. Misty didn’t think she’d ever be able to accept that Brick no longer had her back.

  And what was Sailor’s problem? He said he was in love with her. Making her have to deal with Uncle Freaky was a fucked-up way of showing his love. Half-cracka, half-Eskimo mufucka!

  It wasn’t fair. Every time she started getting her shit together, somebody came along and fucked it up. Sailor was the link between her and the other so-called models. How can Sailor do me like this?

  CHAPTER 20

  Looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world, Troy came bouncing toward the car. Grinning, he opened the passenger door.

  Misty held out an open palm hand and didn’t say a word.

  “Damn, it’s like that?” His hurt feelings could be heard in his voice. He placed the money he’d earned in her hand. “What’s wrong now? I did what you wanted and you still ain’t happy.”

  She started the car and moved into traffic. “We got a problem.”

  “What kind of problem?”

  “Sailor jumped ship.”

  “So! Good riddance to that mufucka.” Troy reclined his seat and slouched his long body as if he were preparing for a quick snooze.

  “We need him!” Misty said sharply.

  “For what? He don’t do nothing but fuck around on the computer. Me, Izell, and them other dudes be doing all the hard labor. All the dirty work. What does Sailor really do? Nothing!”

  She glared at Troy. “You a stupid ass.”

  He readjusted his seat to an upright position. “Yo, why you coming at me? What I do to you?”

  She gripped Troy’s shoulder with her free hand, using her fingernails to hurt him. “You always saying dumb shit. You don’t think before you open your mouth.”

  Frowning, Troy jerked his shoulder away. “Man, fuck this. Take me to my mom’s house. I done been through hell and now you expect me to listen to you while you bitch about that cracka bull.”

  “Oh, so now you gon’ leave me, too?”

  He sucked in a harsh breath. “Man, I just did the dirtiest shit I ever did in my life. And I did it because you begged me to. Now you want to whine about that half-cracka nigga. If Sailor don’t want no come-up, that’s his business. Leave his bitch ass alone.”

  “You’re letting your emotions get in the way. It’s obvious that you feel threatened by Sailor.”

  “How you figure that?”
/>
  “You’re glad he’s gone because you’re jealous of him. If you were thinking about stacking, you’d be looking at the big picture the way I am.”

  “Uh-huh. Whatever,” Troy muttered.

  “Don’t you get it? Because of Sailor, I had access to the services of a shitload of muscular, fine-ass niggas. Mufuckas with eight-packs and shit. They looked good enough to be smiling down from a billboard and some shit.”

  “They wasn’t all that.”

  “Shut up, Troy. If I lose all that money, I’ll never forgive myself. I won’t forgive you.”

  “What I got to do with it?” Troy frowned excessively. “I ain’t tell that cracka bull to roll out.”

  “But it’s still your fault.”

  “How?”

  “Because.” Misty gathered her thoughts. “If you weren’t in my ear bugging me about having some alone time, I would have been on top of my game. I wouldn’t have let Sailor go back to Uncle Freaky’s house.”

  “Man, I’m sick of hearing about this Uncle Freaky bullshit. Take me to my mom’s house. For real, man. You don’t nevah appreciate nothing I do for you.”

  “Aiight, then. I’ll take you where you want to go. But when you get out of my ride, I hope you realize there ain’t no coming back.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Seriously. I’m getting me some real niggas that know how to act.” She thought about that Caring Cottage place that Sailor had told her about. She envisioned herself gripping up some of the homeless mufuckas. Some niggas who appreciated a hand-out.

  She could buy some weights and a treadmill and a whole bunch of exercising shit. She’d beef up her own men. Train them to look and act the way she wanted them to.

  “Real rap, Troy. I’m sick of niggas walking out on me. How mufuckas gon’ keep on leaving me anytime they get good and ready.” Fuming, Misty was on a roll. She picked up speed as her anger intensified.

  Cautiously, Troy buckled up.

  “First, my mother takes my man. My childhood sweetheart. The only nigga I ever really cared about. And then the bitch had the nerve to get knocked up. I told you how she tricked Brick into marrying her. He felt sorry for her. That’s the only reason he married her old ass.”

  Troy didn’t say a word.