by Meta Smith
Tired of seeing Desiree mope, Ginger decided to take action. She phoned Derek and instructed him that he and Fuzzy were taking them to the beach at Magen’s Bay and there were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Desiree got angry; she wasn’t a charity case. But Ginger insisted that she get cute and game up.
“I know that nigga and I know you. You can get with that. Put on that orange-flowered thong. Show off your shape. Put on some makeup and wear your hair down, not in a ponytail. Come on now. I taught you better,” Ginger admonished, sounding more like a mother than a friend.
Desiree did as she was told, taking extra care to emphasize her eyes. If she went swimming, she knew it would all be for nothing, but what
the hell, she was willing to do whatever to get with Fuzzy. She wrapped a sarong around her body and waited with Ginger, who shook her head.
“Don’t worry, ma. I got this,” Desiree told her confidently.
“Okay. The force is strong within you, young Skywalker, but you are not a Jedi yet,” Ginger teased. Ginger was a true computer geek; she loved the Star Wars series and Star Trek and was always quoting some science fiction shit or other.
“There you go, Poindexter. I’m telling you, it’s handled. I won’t be going in to work tonight cuz, um, I’m gonna be tied up with Fuzzy all night long,” Desiree predicted.
THE VIEW FROM THE WINDING HILLS OF ST. THOMAS OF THE
azure water and pale sand was breathtaking. It was a far cry from the port side of Charlotte Amalie with its shops and restaurants and docked ships. This was nature at its finest. Desiree had hated riding in St. Thomas; the cars drove on the wrong side, they seemed to have no speed limit or traffic laws, and the roads were tiny and usually had a goat or some chickens roaming in them; but now she felt no fear. She felt exhilarated, as if the car could take flight any moment and whisk them off to paradise. Momentarily, she forgot about her obsession with Fuzzy.
They parked the Rover on a small patch of road surrounded by huge coconut palm trees and strolled along the sand of Magen’s Bay. Desiree stared out at the ocean, playing with her hair as it blew in the wind. She arched her back and allowed her sarong to blow off, knowing Fuzzy had his eye on her. The padded bra of the top made her look curvier and womanly; the thong cut of the bottom accentuated her ass. She looked seductively over her shoulder.
“Come on, Ginny.” She reached out for Ginger’s hand, and they ran down the beach and off toward the water.
“I peeped that, you know,” Ginger told her, referring to her magically disappearing sarong.
“I know,” Desiree replied. “I’m gonna ignore his ass. But right about now I know I look too good to ignore. He’s used to bitches sweating him, so I’m going to be a challenge.”
“Now you’re thinking. I know you gonna get up in them pockets, though.”
“Oh, I’m gonna get it all. Not cuz I want it so bad, but because that nigga had the nerve to act like he ain’t know who I am! You supposed
to bow down in the presence of a queen and serve me properly. Now he’s gotta get taxed. Shit, he coulda had some free pussy. Fuckin’ around calling me skinny, ignoring me and shit,” Desiree rambled.
Ginger laughed and splashed water at her. They frolicked in the waves, and when Desiree was satisfied that she was sufficiently wet and had jiggled and bounced and flaunted her body enough to have captured Fuzzy’s full attention and desire, she and Ginger tossed the guys a camera and posed seductively; prolonging the tease. They even removed their bikinis and took some nude shots. Desiree could tell by the bulge in Fuzzy’s shorts that he was ripe and ready for the picking. But she continued to play it cool.
When they returned to the guesthouse, Fuzzy asked Desiree if he could stay and take her to dinner.
“Sure. You think I need to eat a little more anyway, don’t you?”
“So Ginger tell you what I say, eh?” His rich voice caressed her ears, breaking down her defenses.
“Yeah, she did. But she didn’t have to say shit. You’ve been playing me since I got here. I can tell you aren’t feeling me.” Desiree played innocent. She knew the effect she was finally having on Fuzzy.
“Nah, it’s not that. You cover everything up with baggy clothes.” “You could have seen more if you came to Red’s,” she replied
suggestively.
“Well, what about now? Can I see more now?” Fuzzy licked his lips. Desiree answered his question by slowly peeling off her moist swimsuit. She stood before him nude.
“You got a fat monkey to be a little gal,” he said, referring to her genitalia.
“It bites too,” she said, giggling. Fuzzy walked over to her and placed his hand gently but firmly on her pussy.
“Owww,” he groaned.
Even his groans have an accent, Desiree thought as she threw her head back and surrendered to his touch. Fuzzy stroked her into a frenzy, then pulled his hand away right when she was on the brink of climaxing.
“Lay down,” he ordered. Desiree obliged. Fuzzy spread her legs and tasted her.
Desiree and Fuzzy never made it out to dinner. But he feasted on her body until she couldn’t move and the bed had crashed through the frame and lay crooked on the floor.
CHAPTER 5
G
INGER AND DESIREE ARRIVED AT THE MIAMI LAKES home tanned and tired. Desiree and Fuzzy had spent the rest of her
stay in St. Thomas together, smoking, fucking, and shopping. Nose wide open, Fuzzy lavished gifts on her from Ralph Lauren and Versace and had copped her a few pieces from a local jeweler. She had a pair of diamond studs, a tennis bracelet, and a Colombian emerald ring. Desiree, sprung off the gifts and the dick, sucked and fucked Fuzzy until he couldn’t get it up anymore.
“Did you have fun?” Ginger finally asked as she kicked her shoes off at the door, dropped her bags, and flopped on the couch.
“Hell yeah!” Desiree enthused, joining her on the couch. “Got off to a rocky start, but I have no regrets.”
“You gonna go back?” Ginger asked.
“Yeah. He’s gonna fly me back just to kick it sometime next month, or so he says. If he follows through, I’m game; otherwise, it was cool,” Desiree told her.
“I feel you. But I think he likes you. He came up off some major paper.” “I know!” Desiree was excited despite how tired she was.
“You’re getting pretty good,” Ginger said, complimenting her skills. “Getting?” Desiree cocked her head back.
“Okay, you’re a natural at this shit, Desi. All you had to do was get
your confidence up. Now you see what you can do?”
“Yeah,” Desiree admitted. “So what we gonna do tonight? It’s still early enough for us to take a nap and then go to work, or we can go kick it. What’s it gonna be?”
“Damn, girl! Why can’t we just chill?” Ginger moaned. She was exhausted and would have enjoyed relaxing and reminiscing about her man in the VI.
“Cuz we’ll get lazy, and one day will turn into a week,” Desiree said knowingly “It’s all about the Benjamins, baby. I need that scrilla.” Desiree rubbed her fingers together for emphasis.
“Well, shit, I say we kick it. I worked my ass off in St. Thomas. Those concrete floors are murder on the knees. Let’s go to Chaos,” Ginger suggested.
“Cool. But we’re gonna go to work tomorrow. Monday night fights, you know we gonna get cake. Now get a little bit of rest,” Desiree ordered, then went to do the same.
DESIREE LOVED SUNDAY NIGHTS ON SOUTH BEACH. THE
streets were like a fashion show, and not some local church function, more like the couture shows in New York or Paris. The strip was the real deal. All the big-money designers were being represented: Dolce & Gabbana, Versace, Roberto Cavalli, Chanel, and Chloe. People were rocking thousands of dollars on their backs with no mercy. Desiree was always in awe that on a Sunday, people were out in full force, kicking it like there was no tomorrow.
They rolled through Shadow Lounge briefly for drinks. Desiree absentmindedly flirted w
ith a pro basketball player and locked his number in her newly acquired cell. She was getting over the whole athlete fascination. Ginger had been right; they were almost always more trouble than they were worth. If they weren’t total assholes, they were insecure as hell. Plus, she quickly realized that most of them had a long-time girlfriend somewhere and considered her a trick, a fling, a tool to get a nut off. It was easy not to get caught up; she just went straight for the wallets. But a lot of them were cheap as hell. They expected a woman to feel that it was a privilege to fuck with them, and no further payment was really deemed necessary. It was like getting blood from a turnip.
After about an hour or so they went to Chaos. Desiree felt her pulse quicken as she took in the curved, chrome arch sculpture that graced the
front entrance. Chaos was the shit! There were plenty of hotboys making their way into the spot. Desiree really liked them. The street hustlers were a different breed than the celebrities. They came up off the ends lovely. It wasn’t just about making paper for them, it was about the floss. They always made sure they represented to the fullest, and their girls were well taken care of. Desiree especially liked the New York ones, all hard-core and thugged out. She liked to reduce them to kittens who purred for her with stacks of cash.
They headed straight for the bar.
“Two waters, please,” Ginger ordered from the surfer dude bartender.
Desiree looked at Ginger like she was crazy.
“I want a cosmo,” Desiree said. Ginger grabbed the bottled waters with one hand and Desiree’s hand with the other. “Come in the bathroom with me,” Ginger ordered, and marched her into the ladies’ lounge.
“Don’t drink any liquor,” she hissed to Desiree in the corner. “Pop this.” Ginger slipped Desiree a small pink tablet, then swallowed one of her own.
“What is it?” Desiree asked after she had swallowed it. “X,” Ginger replied.
“Word?”
“Chill, and drink lots of water,” Ginger instructed. “And juice. Drink lots of juice. Any juice with vitamin C will enhance your roll.”
“My roll?” Desiree asked her quizzically.
Ginger rolled her eyes skyward. “Your high! God, Desiree, sometimes you are so slow!”
Desiree chugged the contents of the water bottle and shrugged. She didn’t know what all the hype was about–she didn’t feel anything different–but fifteen minutes later she began to feel a little light-headed.
“Look at me.” Ginger held Desiree’s head and stared at her.
“Yeah, you feelin’ it. Your pupils are dilated.” Ginger laughed as Desiree smiled blankly at her. Her eyes looked especially catlike.
“I love you, Ginny. You’re my best friend. You’re like a sister to me, and I love you so much!” Desiree grinned wildly. Ginger laughed at her.
“Do you hear that?”
“What? ‘Big Pimpin’’?” Ginger shrugged her shoulders and began to dance to Jay-Z.
“The music sounds funny. Damn, you’re dancing in slow motion!” Desiree pointed at her.
“Why did I give you that pill?” Ginger shook her head and got them both some juice.
“I feel like love!” Desiree chanted as she danced to her own beat. She looked crazy as hell, but she was cute, so she could get away with looking crazy. Besides, Desiree was far from the only person in the club who was rolling. There were dozens of people whose eyes looked like those of a cat, professing their love to anyone who would listen, grinding their jaws as the effects of MDMA wreaked havoc on their nervous systems.
Desiree felt like every pore in her body was open and the music was sinking into her, replacing the blood in her veins. The bass was controlling her heart, the lights controlling her eyes; Desiree was a slave to the rhythm. She thought she felt cool air blowing through a vent in the ceiling, sending a chill through her body, but everywhere she moved, she swore she felt the breeze, as if it were following her.
“I’m cold. I’m going to the bathroom,” Desiree sang as she ground her teeth.
“Mmm ‘kay.” Ginger smiled at her. She was deep in conversation about nothing with an equally high man at the bar.
“Like I was saying, really, who decided that green means go and red means stop?” Desiree heard Ginger telling him. “Green is the color of money. Money makes the world go round. Red is the color of blood. Blood makes the body go around. Do you realize the whole conspiracy in all of that?”
Desiree went to the bathroom thinking about blood. She could barely stand straight as she crouched over the toilet seat. Even though she was high as hell, she wasn’t high enough to put her ass on a public toilet seat. All kinds of shit went on in the bathroom. She could hear the muffled voices of others, but it all sounded like gibberish. She flushed the toilet and straightened her clothes, then placed her ear near the crack in the stall door cautiously.
“Y’all can’t fade me! Y’all can’t even fade me! I’m covered in the blood of the lamb! Rebuke and yield all of you demons!” Desiree yelled at the patrons as she burst out of the stall. Most of them said nothing; they just looked at her knowingly. Their stares irritated her.
“I see your souls, people. You need to repent the evil of your ways. Jesus is corning back for us, can’t you understand that? He still loves us!” Desiree looked pleadingly at the women in the restroom. Most of them were laughing now. But a few people nodded in agreement.
“She might be high or drunk or whatever, but she ain’t said anything that wasn’t true. Just because I’m in the club don’t mean I don’t love the Lord,” Desiree heard a girl say.
“Thank you! Praise his name!” Desiree clapped her hands together and
danced around like she was possessed with the Holy Ghost. “You’re up in here on a Sunday, though,” her friend teased her.
“Rebuke and yield. Smite thy tongue. It is Monday now. The cock has crowed on a new day, nonbeliever.” Desiree looked into the ceiling, arms akimbo.
“Just say no,” the bathroom attendant muttered under her breath. “I will.” Desiree turned to face her.
Does she have supersonic hearing or what? the attendant thought.
“I will say no to the materialism of society! Here. I need not this earthly possession.” Desiree handed her a hundred-dollar bill just as Ginger entered the bathroom.
“You’re still in here? Oh my God, I’ve been looking for you for an hour! Have you been in here all this time?” Ginger grabbed Desiree by the shoulders.
“Yes,” the bathroom attendant remarked dryly, pocketing the Benjamin discreetly.
“Don’t blaspheme, Ginny. Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain.” Desiree looked solemn.
“Uh, okay. Let’s go home.” Ginger tugged at Desiree gently as they left Chaos through the back door.
CHAPTER 6
B
ITTER COLD BLANKETED THE BRONX. DESIREE HAD nowhere else to go but home; her friends from functional homes were all eating
dinner, those that weren’t were stealing time with their boyfriends. Unfortunately, her mother was already at work on the third shift as an orderly at North Central Bronx Hospital, but her stepfather, Ernesto, was home.
“Where you been, bitch?” he called out to her, not really caring.
Desiree ignored him and headed straight for the bathroom. She locked the door behind her and turned the water faucet in the tub as hot as it would go. She attempted to clear her thoughts as she let the near-scalding water pelt her hair and body. She stayed there until the water ran cold. As she headed to her room, Ernesto used his flabby body to block her.
“Move out the way, Nesto!” she told him. Nesto didn’t budge. “I don’t have the time to play with you! I’ve got homework!” she snapped. Moving from side to side, she tried to find a way around nasty Nesto. He remained steadfast and began pumping his hips at her lewdly.
“You are such a loser!” Desiree blasted Ernesto with a full dose of uptown attitude, hands on hips, neck rotating in a circle. Nesto responded by attempting to untie he
r bathrobe. She slapped his hand away, and he grabbed her by the arm hard and pulled her close.
“Give Daddy a little kiss,” he growled through his yellow teeth, and then licked Desiree’s neck. She slapped Ernesto with all her might, causing him to drop his ever-