by K'wan
“Get the fuck off me, Nate!” Yvette snarled, trying to kick at Shakira.
“Chill, ma, its over.” Nate tried to sooth her.
Shakira tried to go in for a hit while Yvette was being restrained but Shannon grabbed her roughly by the arm. “Don’t even go about it like that, Shakira. It’s over.”
“I’m gonna kill that bitch!” Shakira struggled against him.
“No, you’re not.” Shannon fished around in his pocket and came up with a fifty-dollar bill, which he placed into her palm. “You’re gonna go to the hospital and get your arm looked at.”
Shakira’s arm was stinging and blood was starting to drip onto her shirt. She tried to give Shannon a fierce look, but he had an unwavering coldness to his eyes that made her look away. “A’ight.” She crushed the bill in her fist. “This shit ain’t over though.” Shakira stalked back down the block to her building.
Yvette waited until Shakira was out of sight before turning back to Shannon and company. “Does this mean we ain’t getting high?”
Shannon just shook his head. “You Jefferson broads are something else.”
Chapter 6
THE END OF THE SCHOOL DAY COULDN’T HAVE come fast enough for Dena. Once again the air conditioning wasn’t working and the windowless classes were hot as hell. She would’ve ditched her last few classes, but she had a math test in eighth period that she couldn’t miss. The moment it was over she was out, end of class or not.
As she stepped out of the school’s side exit the afternoon sun stroked her cheeks. Squinting, she threw her shades on and made her way to the side of the school where her team always gathered. Sure enough, Sharon was leaning against the brown brick like a ghetto Naomi Campbell.
Sharon was a Harlem chick and wore it with pride. Normally, the girls from different boroughs didn’t really click, but Sharon’s young ass had a swag that made Dena take to her. She was a tall drink of water with peanut butter skin and long legs and serious attitude. Sharon was young, but carried herself like a worldly woman. She was always fresh to death and seemed to know everyone in her hood. Hanging uptown with Sharon was how Dena met her man Lance, or Lazy, as they called him.
They had been sitting on a stoop off 112th and Lenox, smoking with some guys they knew, when Lazy came out of the building. From the arrogant smirk on his chestnut face he knew he was killing em in a pair of creased, blue Pepe’s and a Detroit Redwings’ hockey jersey. The killer part of his fit was the red and white Nike Airs with the Big Dawg logo airbrushed on the side. He spoke to Sharon but didn’t acknowledge Dena.
Two days later the location was 115th, but the cast was the same. This time Lazy came coasting up on a motorized scooter, circling Dena and Sharon. Dena stared him down as he did her, returning the vibe. He finally stopped spinning on the scooter and introduced himself. From the word go, Dena was taken with the young man and he with her. They were from two very different boroughs, but the chemistry between them was quite natural. She was a smart, streetwise chick from Brooklyn, and he was a young dude with a very bright future.
“Dena-D, what it is?” Sharon greeted her.
“Trying to keep from melting in all this damn heat.” Dena fanned herself. “I see you’re dressed for the occasion though.”
“You know a bitch gotta be prepared.” Sharon did a little twirl so Dena could take in the whole fit. She was rocking a short white tennis skirt with a blue-and-white polo shirt and the matching Stan Smith’s. Sharon, like her mother and sister, was blessed with a body. The most outstanding part of her outfit was the iced-out ankle bracelet.
“Somebody ass is looking like money,” Dena said, eying the ankle bracelet.
“Just a little present from one of my shorties,” Sharon said, holding her leg up so Dena could get a better look. “You like?”
“That shit is fly!”
“You know Harlem is the freshest borough; all we do is rest and dress.” Sharon snapped her fingers. “If you play your cards right I might introduce you to one of his peoples.”
“Listen to your little hot ass,” Dena teased her.
“I get it from my mama,” Sharon shot back. “Anyway, what you bout to get into?”
“I’m supposed to be hooking up with Lazy,” Dena told her.
“Romeo and Juliet, back at it,” Sharon teased her.
“Don’t hate cause me and my man do more than clock the hourly rates at the Liberty.”
“Dena, don’t play yourself. I ain’t never been no Liberty bitch, it’s the Marriot or nothing.”
“I know that’s right.” Dena gave Sharon a high five. “So where the weed at?”
“You know Harlem got that real sticky. You ready to take that trip?”
Dena thought about it for a minute. “Nah, I can’t boogie just yet. I’m trying to give Lazy the benefit of the doubt.” She dialed him on the cell, but got no answer. She hoped that he was at least on the train en route to get her.
“I’ll bet. What y’all doing?”
“Probably go get something to eat after we catch Dreamgirls,” Dena told her.
“That shit still playing?” Sharon asked, knowing that the movie was months old.
“Only in certain spots. I went on the Internet and found a theater in the Village that’s still showing it.”
“Y’all’d be better off getting the bootleg,” Sharon said. “Where that fat bitch Mo at?”
“Better watch ya mouth before she hear you and put them things on ya lil ass,” Dena teased her.
“Knock it off, D. Mo is my bitch, but you know I get busy.”
“You get busy, but I catch wreck,” Mo said as she came down the stairs. She had a burning Newport hanging from her lips and a Haitian kid named Hans on her heels.
“So what’s up, baby, you gonna stop playing and come see me or what?” Hans asked in a heavy accent. His slim frame rocked from side to side making sure she saw the gold chain dangling from his neck.
“I’ll think about it,” Monique said seductively. “As a matter of fact, I need you to do me a solid.”
“Whatever you need, baby, I got you.” Hans licked his lips.
Monique leaned in and began whispering into Hans’s ear, letting her tongue graze his lobe. By the time she was finished Hans was on his way up the block with his boys and Mo had two dime sacks of chocolate in her purse.
“Now, that’s how you do business,” Mo said, giving Dena and Sharon high fives.
“My bitch is always on her job!” Sharon laughed.
“Somebody gotta be,” Mo capped back. “What you bitches doing standing around like you selling pussy?”
“You got the nerve, looking like you fresh off the track.” Sharon pinched the front of Monique’s shorts.
“If that ain’t the damn pot. Your butt is too big to be tucked up under that short-ass skirt.” Monique nodded at the skirt that Sharon had to pull down in the back every so often. Had a strong gust of wind came through, the whole world would’ve been able to see her panties, if she was even wearing any.
“Don’t hate, bitch.”
“Whatever, ho,” Mo shot back.
“Why don’t y’all cut it out?” Dena cut in, sounding a little annoyed.
“What the hell is your problem?” Mo asked.
“Lazy got her ass waiting again.” Sharon volunteered.
“Why don’t you mind your damn business?” Dena snapped.
Mo just shook her head. “Dena, I don’t know why you’re mad at her. You need to be mad at yourself.”
“Myself? What the hell for?”
“Because you let him set you up for the bullshit every time.”
“Mo, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dena said, dialing him again and still getting no answer.
Monique folded her arms across her large breasts. “Baby girl, you and I both know that’s the biggest lie ever told. Don’t get it fucked up, D, I got love for Lazy, too, but the boy ain’t never on time. Its like I told you before, niggaz don’t do shit quick b
ut cum.”
“Amen to that!” Sharon gave Mo a high five.
“Fuck the both of y’all.” Dena tried to front like she wasn’t tight, but inside she was steaming. She hadn’t seen Lazy in almost a week, but she understood he had business to handle, so she didn’t complain. Lazy was on his grind, and she was cool with that as long as she got some quality time in with him, but that seemed to have gone to the left. She had been waiting all week to see Dreamgirls with him and he had pulled another no-show, something he was starting to do pretty regularly. Lazy had never been the most prompt person, but he was fucking up more and more as of late. Dena’s mind told her that something wasn’t right, but her heart wouldn’t allow her to accept it. Dena had guy friends that she allowed to spend paper on her, but Lazy was her heart. Just the thought that he might be fucking someone else made her nauseous.
“Fuck that. Y’all can stand around here all afternoon if you want to, but I’m taking my ass uptown. A bitch gotta get her sexy on, for tonight anyway,” Sharon told them.
“Tonight, what’s popping uptown?” Mo asked anxiously.
Sharon looked at her in disbelief. “Damn, y’all don’t get cable in Brooklyn? Stacks Green is in town shooting his video, so you know all the ballers are coming out in full force.”
“That Texas nigga with all the gold in his mouth?” Dena asked.
“It’s platinum now, baby. They’re gonna be in New York all week, doing it up.”
“Now you know I gotta be there,” Mo said, checking her hair in her compact mirror. “Somebody has got to show you Harlem bitches how to stunt. I gotta jet back to the crib and get fly. D, you rolling?”
Dena thought on it for a minute. Lazy was already twenty minutes late, so it was obvious that he was on his bullshit, and it made no sense to stand around and wait on his tired ass. “Fuck it, come on.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Sharon said excitedly. “Y’all bitches hurry up though, cause the 40/40 Club is supposed to be jumping tonight, too.”
Dena gave her a confused look. “Sharon, you know damn well we ain’t old enough to get into the 40/40.”
“Stop being a lame, Dena, you know I wouldn’t put it out there if I didn’t have a plan,” Sharon told her.
“Say no more. Lets get up outta here,” Dena said, leading her crew to the train station.
TWENTY-TWO BLOCKS SOUTH, A FAMILIAR face was descending the steps of the two-thirty Greyhound bus, just arrived from Charlotte, North Carolina. He had long since shed his braids, and twenty pounds due to stress, but for the most part Larry Love looked the same.
For the last few months he had been selling crack out of a housing project in Greensborough. Marlene was less than pleased with the stunt Larry had pulled and had spared no expense trying to have him captured and prosecuted for it; but the hustler was always one step ahead of her. He’d sold the car and added the cash to the money he’d fleeced from her and used it to buy cocaine. Larry had a cousin who was already doing his thing down in N.C., so it was easy for him to get established; but staying that way proved to be something different. It didn’t take long before some young wolves ran in the crib and put two in Larry’s cousin, taking all the work and the money. If it wasn’t for the fact that Larry had been out tricking on a bitch that night, he’d be dead, too. Not one to take a blessing for granted, he made tracks back north.
When Larry exited the Port Authority he almost expected Paul to be standing there waiting for him, like old times, but he wasn’t. Larry’s betrayal had helped to contribute to that. Never in a million years did he think that Paul would off himself, but he had. The strain of what had happened with his son, or not-son, was coupled with Larry and Marlene’s betrayal. If Larry could’ve done it all over again, he’d have never fucked Marlene, because the price that came with it was higher than he was ready to pay. Every time he thought about how he had done his man he cried, but there was no amount of tears that could bring back the dead.
Larry hadn’t even known he was crying until the warm tear hit his cheek. Wiping it away, he made his way out of the station and lost himself in the crowd.
Chapter 7
THOUGH IT WAS THE MIDDLE OF THE AFTERNOON, the room was almost completely dark, save for the thin beam that managed to shine through the small space between the heavy drapes. The smell of Egyptian musk incense hung in the air, but you could still pick up the sweet smell of purple haze beneath.
In the center of the room was a vision of a ghetto queen. Her long weave was pinned to the top of her head, but a few strands had managed to snake their way loose. Dressed in nothing but a purple, laced thong and thigh-high hooker boots, you could properly appreciate her large but healthy breasts and extra-large booty. She was slowly swaying to the raspy sounds of Lyfe’s “S.E.X,” totally lost in the music.
Lazy was resting on one elbow amongst silken throw pillows like he was the prince of Persia. His ebony skin almost blended perfectly against the black satin sheets. His hair was neatly braided into two French braids that curved behind his earlobes. The half-smoked blunt hanging from his mouth bobbed every time his full lips curved into a smile. If his boys could see him, they would surely say he was the man; but they didn’t have to, because he already knew it.
“You like this, Daddy?” she asked, turning around so he could get a better view of her ass.
“You know I do, ma. Make that shit clap for me,” he said in a smooth voice.
She dropped down on all fours and cocked her ass in the air. The young lady began popping her ass up and down on the carpeted floor, causing the cheeks to clap together in a seductive rhythm. Wanting to impress her man, she began popping one cheek at a time in tune with the bass of the song. Slowly she slid further down, spreading her legs until she was in a T position. Moving her thong to the side so he could get a better view, she began opening and closing her pussy lips like it was a fish gasping for air. Looking over her shoulder, she slid one hand around to the back and began sliding her middle finger in and out of her gaping sex.
“Do that shit, girl,” Lazy hissed, stroking his dick with his free hand.
From the thirsty look in his eye she knew she had him where she wanted him. She flipped over onto her back and began finger-fucking herself from the front. Her finger and inner thighs were wet with her juices, making it easier for her to get two more fingers inside. At various speeds she jacked her fingers in and out of her box, making a sloshing noise. By now Lazy’s dick was so hard that the front of his Nautica sweat pants looked like a tent, but his face was as cool as the other side of the pillow. Never taking her eyes off of him, she began to crawl on all fours towards the bed.
“Umm, is all that for me?” she asked, rubbing her palm over his erection through his sweats.
“That depends on what you’re willing to do for it,” he teased, sliding back a little further onto the bed.
“Baby, you know I’d do anything for this sweet candy.”
“Is that right?” he asked, pulling his penis free and stroking it openly. Though Lazy was a slim dude, his dick resembled a blackened salami roll. He ran his hand up and down his shaft while she looked on in anticipation.
“Anything, Daddy, just let me have a little bit.” She had gone from sounding like a seductress to a fiend in need of a hit.
Lazy paused as if he was pondering something deep, then looked down at her and said, “Suck this dick.”
The command had barely left his mouth before she was on him. She took his thick dick in her hand and gently began running the tip of her tongue around the head. Her mouth felt like a warm spring as she licked and teased him, letting saliva run down the shaft and over her hand. Though Lazy’s dick was wide, she had no problems stuffing it into her greedy mouth. The top half went in with ease, yet, getting the rest in proved to be a task; but she loved a good challenge. After two attempts she managed to take almost all of him into her mouth and Lazy felt like he had just stepped into another world.
Skillfully she relaxed the mu
scles in her throat and took in his entire length. She let him tickle her tonsils before pulling up and going back down again. The wetter his dick got, the easier it got to slip into the back of her throat. Lazy grabbed the back of her weave and began fucking her mouth like it was his first piece of pussy. A less seasoned female would’ve gagged, but she took it like a soldier, slurping him like a Bomb Pop on a summer day. Sucking dick was one of her favorite pastimes, and she blew Lazy like his was the last dick on the planet.
“Ooh, that’s what I’m talking about! Shit, I’m bout to cum!” he whimpered. She tried to pull her head away, but Lazy held fast. With a grunt, his body went stiff and he blew his wad in her mouth.
“That was some bullshit.” Michelle sat crossed-legged on the floor, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“My fault, ma. That shit was so good I couldn’t hold it,” Lazy said with a smug grin.
“I’ll bet. Well, do what you gotta do to get it hard again so I can get mine.” She attempted to straddle him, but Lazy pushed her off him. “Word, it’s like that now?” she said with a major attitude.
“Michelle, I got a move to make right quick. Real talk, I’ma beat that pussy into submission tonight though.”
“Lance,” she called him by his government, “you know I gotta work the night shift at the hospital tonight, so don’t try to beat me in the head.” She crawled over to him and started tugging at his sweat pants. “Now, slide back and act like you know, so I can ride this donkey.”
“Later,” he said, standing up and brushing past her. “I’ll come by the hospital on your break and fuck you in the linen closet like we did the last time.” He tried to kiss her on the forehead but she moved away. “Why you acting like that?”
“Cause you be on some bullshit. You fuck my weave up and bust in my mouth and you trying to tell me I can’t get mine? You know what, fuck it,” she said, getting up off the floor. “I don’t know why I continue to fuck around with young niggaz, it takes too damn much to train you.”