Sexy Little Liar

by Noire

  Barron reached for her breast and fingered her nipple into a pebble. He squeezed her firm flesh in his hand, and then palmed the back of her head and urged her to go lower, to take his dick and even his balls inside the warm wetness of her mouth.

  “Baby . . .” he whimpered as her head bobbed in his lap. “You sure know how to suck some good dick,” he praised her. Damn right, Pilar thought as she felt sparks shoot off deep inside her pussy. She grunted as her head jutted up and down and a trail of saliva dribbled from her bottom lip. “Yeah, you can suck some damn good dick!”

  Pilar was trying to suck that dick morning, noon, and night. Hell, once Barron put a ring on her finger she would slob on his knob multiple times a day if he wanted her to.

  Determined to get him hooked, she moved in double-time now. Pilar jacked and licked, then tightened her lips and blew that dick until her cheeks collapsed and she felt the head swell up in the back of her throat. And then she hummed on that baby like she was about to break out in a song.

  But Barron was the one who started singing as he banged up in her throat and his balls clenched and felt heavier than two giant stones.

  “Oh, yeah!” he urged her into deeper, longer strokes as the wet fire in her mouth set a tornado swirling through his nuts and straight up in his bone. Pilar was giving up that wet-neck, and that shit felt so, so damn good. “Gimme that pussy,” Barron started chanting to the beat of his thrusts. “Gimme that . . . gimme that . . . gimme that good-ass neck pussy dammit!”

  Pilar let the head of his dick slip past the trapdoor in her throat, and then she clenched down on it like she was trying to swallow. The soft, hot pressure on his tip sent Barron over the edge, and he slammed her head with his palm, then cried out as a powerful jet of cum spurted up from his balls and splashed straight down Pilar’s throat.

  “Ayghgagyhhh!” he cried out as his orgasm sent the nerves in his dick and his toes into overdrive. He held Pilar’s head tightly in place as endless streams of hot liquid pulsed out of his jerking dick and filled her still-sucking mouth.

  Pilar’s lips trembled as she struggled to keep them gripped around his slowly shrinking dick. As Barron ran his fingers through her hair and massaged the back of her neck, she swallowed the warm semen in her mouth and gently squeezed his balls.

  “That was good, baby,” he said when she finally sat up. Gazing into her sexy gray eyes, Barron reached out and caressed the side of her face. “That was real, real good.”

  Pilar flashed him a smile and reached for her purse. “If you play your cards right, it can get even better than that,” she told him smoothly as she rubbed lip gloss on her perfectly shaped lips. “Stick with me, Bump, because it can get way better than that.”

  I was crashed the hell out in my panties and bra, sprawled flat on my stomach and snoring my ass off, when outta the darkness something heavy landed square on my back and pinned me down on the bed. Ouch! Pain exploded behind my eyes as my ponytail got yanked and my head snapped back on my neck. Something cold and hard dug into my neck, right under my jawbone.

  “Whaaa?” I opened my eyes and stammered in the pitch blackness of my room. I had spent the whole night getting my drank on down at Club Wood, and for the last two hours I had been lost in dreamland and slobbering puddles of leftover Erk and Jerk on my extra-plush pillow.

  “Uh-huh, bitch,” a cold, deranged voice muttered in my ear as rough fingers slid around to my throat and squeezed. “I got yo slick ass now! Who the fuck you thought you was runnin’ game on, Mink? What? You thought I was one of them ol’ ladee-da niggas you be frontin’ off in the streets, right?”

  He was straddling my hips. Rough-riding my ass. Trapped under his weight, I broke out in a cold sweat as my windpipe was crushed and the name Punchie Collins exploded in my brain.

  My skin got clammy. It was burning the hell up in that room. New York City was smack in the middle of a scorching-hot heat wave, and since me and Bunni was late on the electric bill I had left the window open so I could catch a little piece of the late-night breeze. But instead of a cool breeze slipping in my window, that crazy-ass Punchie Collins had pulled a straight-up cat burglar move on me. That psycho fool had crept up the fire escape and caught me sleeping, and I gagged like hell as he sat on my booty and choked the shit outta me.

  “Don’t no fuckin’ body play Punchie and get away with that shit!” he growled in my ear and dug his fingers all up in the meat of my throat. “I want my paper, bitch!” He smushed my head in with the butt of his SIG. “And I want that shit rat’ fuckin’ now!”

  “Wa-wa-wait!” I hollered, tryna stall him. I was caught out there all by myself. Peaches and Bunni had dipped to DC to visit their aunt, and I gasped and clawed at Punchie’s rock-hard hand as I tried to buy myself some room to breathe.

  “Hold up, P-P-Punchie, wait! Your boy Moolah already got me for my product, boo. I paid twenty-five large for a package and that fool stuck me up! Yo Moolah got me!”

  That nigga igged me and swung his gat from way down in Alabama. He cracked me in the dome hard enough to make a thirty-man drum line boom in my head. A trickle of blood splashed from my temple and rolled down into my eyes. He mushed my face deeper into the pillow and laughed again.

  “You must think I’m some kinda fuckin’ sherm, huh, Mink?” He started bouncing up and down on my ass like he was riding a pony. “I oughtta fuck the shit outta you! I oughtta shoot you right in ya stank pussy! I oughtta give you some of this big black dick you been wantin’!”

  “But Moolah got meeee . . .” I hollered all in my pillow as that nigga cracked my tailbone under his weight and bitch-slapped me upside my head with his tool over and over again. Even above the sound of the gun splitting my skull I could still hear Peaches’ voice in my head warning me about the dangers of gankin’ a throwed-off drug-slanga like Punchie:

  You better watch yourself, Mink! You fucked with Punchie’s money and he ain’t going away, you know. I tried to tell you and Bunni that lil “catch-a-crackhead” scam was way too risky, but y’all just didn’t wanna listen.

  Peaches ain’t never lied. Punchie was a fool for real. This dude was bent. Straight-up mental. I could feel the crazy rolling offa him and I knew he had snuck in my window to do way more than just ride my ass.

  Something told me I was gonna have to scheme my way outta this trouble. If begging for mercy woulda made Punchie raise up offa me I woulda begged my sweet ass off, but Punchie wasn’t the forgiving type and mercy wasn’t in this nigga’s nature. It wasn’t even about the money with him no more. It was about giving him his propers and maintaining his street cred, and whether Moolah had given him the package I had dropped twenty-five large on or not, this nigga was fixin’ to straight-up slump me. Yeah, by the time Peaches and Bunni got back home my cold body was gonna be stretched out right on this rickety little cot, and Punchie Collins wasn’t gonna be nowhere to be found.

  I cringed as the butt of his tool kept raining down on me fast and furious. “I should go up in your ass,” he bitched some more. He gripped my hip with one hand and started grinding and humping on my half-naked booty real hard. “Yeah! Uh! Uh! I should run my dick straight up your big donkey-donk ass!”

  He started popping his hips, rubbing his crotch all over my ass, and then he got to gun-busting me again. “Slick bitch! You round here shoppin’ ”—whack!—“and stuntin’ ”—whack!—“and flossin’ in limos and tossin’ mad paper in the gutta.” Whack! He pounded me. “Fuck my nigga Moolah gettin’ you! This me! I know you got some more bank on you! I know there’s a whole lot more where you got that shit from! Now WHERE THE FUCK IS IT?”

  “Okay!” I yelled as he pistol-whipped the hell outta me. I pressed my nose into the pillow and tried to cover both sides of my face with my hands. Punchie might break my fingers and dent my skull, but this nigga wasn’t about to fuck up my mug if I could help it. Don’t fuck up my face, I screamed inside as he beat me.

  “Okay, I’ll give it to you!” I shrieked. “You can have it, Pun
chie! Whatever I got left you can have that shit!”

  That maniac went completely still. “Well where it at, then?”

  I knew I had fucked up the moment the words flew outta my mouth. For a second I started to tell Punchie to just continue on cracking my dome because all I had left was about five measly grand, and I was planning on laying that and some kinda bullshit sob story on Gutta when he got out. Shiiit, I was so scared of what that monster was gonna do when he found out I had spent his money that I woulda much rather let Punchie beat me to death than face Gutta empty-handed when he got sprung up outta the joint. Hell no. Death by Punchie would be way better than death by Gutta!

  But all that whacking musta scrambled my brains ’cause suddenly I heard myself blurt out, “It’s in the safe! Let me up and I’ll open it!”

  Punchie scrambled offa me in two seconds flat, and I cried out with relief as the crunched-in bones of my lower back snapped back in place. I rolled over and fell off the bed, landing hard on the floor at his feet. That idiot dug deep into my ribs with the thick toe of his boot and barked on me again.

  “Where’s the fuckin’ safe, bitch?”

  “Under the bed,” I squeaked and wiped a dribble of blood off my chin. “I’m getting it, Punchie, damn! I’m getting it!”

  I scooted forward on my knees and crawled halfway under the bed, wishing like hell my ass had a loaded gat stashed under there. I woulda cocked that shit and fired right through the raggedy foldout cot and blasted Punchie’s monkey-ass straight to hell!

  But instead, I pulled out the small safe that Gutta had left with me before he got knocked. Now that it was almost empty it wasn’t all that heavy, and it had a round dial on the front that I fumbled with in the darkness.

  “I can’t fuckin’ see,” I complained as blood trickled from the gash he’d opened up in my hairline and dripped into my eye.

  I heard him move toward the doorway where the light switch was, and flip it up and down a couple of times.

  “Yo wuttup with the goddamn lights?” he demanded when they didn’t come on.

  “They cut off. We ain’t paid the bill yet.”

  “Trifling bitches!” Punchie cursed in the darkness. “You mean y’all three bitches got two stank pussies and one hairy asshole farting up in here and can’t nobody turn enough tricks to keep the lights on?” I heard him snort with contempt. “Skank-ass gorillas! Last week you and Bunni was cruising around in a limo flossin’ like you was fly. And this week your shit is cut off and you walking around in the dark! Stupid bitches!”

  Punchie stuck his gun down in his pants and pulled out his cell phone. He clicked on a flashlight app and then crouched down beside me and pointed the beam at the safe’s silver dial. “Spin that shit,” he demanded as he pulled his gat out again and pressed the tip right under my ear. I glanced up and saw the outline of his face in the cell phone’s back glow. Sweat dripped from his chin and craziness darkened his eyes. “You got ten seconds, bitch, or I’ma start poppin’. Get it open.”

  My hands was sweating like a mutha as I turned the dial nervously. Numbers had never been my thing, and right now I was so damn shook I could barely remember my own name.

  Twenty-one to the right, thirteen to the left, and eighty-seven back to the right, I spun.

  Nah, hold up, I corrected myself. It was twelve, thirty-one, seventy-eight. I jiggled the handle.

  That shit didn’t work either.

  “Biiitch . . .” Punchie growled.

  Thirteen, seventy—eight, twenty—one!

  I heard a click and the shit popped open!

  I reached inside the safe and closed my hand around the small stack of crisp bills. I knew better than to let Punchie peep the last of my stash, so I skimmed two grand off the top and held it up in the air for him to see.

  “Here, goddammit!” I shouted. “Two racks! This all I got left! Y’all niggas done already beat me outta a gwap! So take it, niggah! Take it and get the fuck outta here, Punchie!”

  At first I thought I had shut his ass down with my little two grand in cash, but there was an evil glint glistening in Punchie’s eyes as he pointed his flashlight, crooked his neck, and tried to swing his eyeballs all up inside Gutta’s safe.

  “Yo, what else you got up in there, girl?”

  “None a’ ya damn bizz!” I snapped and tried to slam the door real fast, but Punchie’s greedy hands were much quicker than mine. He reached out and swatted the safe and tipped it over, sending the last little bit of my cash scattering out on the floor.

  For a split second we both froze.

  And then we dove. Me first, and then Punchie’s big ass landed right on my back.

  “Get the fuck offa me!” I screamed and covered the scattered bills with my sweaty, half-naked body. “This is Gutta’s shit!” I shrieked and flattened myself out like a pancake as Punchie tried to slide his hands between me and the floor and snatch up as many bills as he could. “This all I got!” I fought hard as hell tryna protect the last of my dough. “Get the fuck outta here, nigga! Y’all already stole me!”

  Truly, I didn’t have no wins over big Punchie Collins. That nigga stood up and grabbed me by my ankle, then dragged my ass across the room caveman style.

  “Punchie, nooo!” I shrieked into the floor as he stomped back over toward the bed and headed for the scattered greenbacks on the floor. “Asshole I’m tellin’ you that’s Gutta’s money! That nigga’s coming home in a minute, and when I tell him you stole on him he’s gonna fuck you up!”

  “Nah.” That fool laughed, and I could hear him scooping up my last few hundred-dollar bills off the floor. “Gutta’s gonna fuck you up, Mink. Neither one of y’all don’t deserve this stash no fuckin’ way. Gutta shoulda known not to trust a sexy little liar like you, and you shoulda known not to fuck over a G like me.” He flicked off the light coming from his phone and once again the room was pitch black. “Yeah, fuck Gutta,” Punchie said and cracked up laughing. “That nigga been in the joint lickin’ balls for a whole year. He bring his ass out here making any noise and I’ma make him lick minez.”

  “Punchie.” I sat up in the darkness and begged in a soft voice. “Please don’t do me like this.” Closing my eyes, I leaned against the wall and pulled my knees up to my chest. I pressed my fingers to my temple, and even though I wasn’t bleeding no more my head was still bangin’ like a mutha.

  “Look, that’s my last bit of money, Punchie. My last. And if I don’t have at least a lil sumthin’ waiting for Gutta that fool is gonna kill me. For real. I’ll tear you off something better than money, okay? Fuck it. I’ll give you something you really, really want. Something you been wanting for a long, long time. Just gimme my fuckin’ money back, Punchie. Gimme my money back and I’ll let you eat my pussy out, okay? Okay? OKAY?”

  Punchie didn’t even answer. And when I opened my eyes and saw the white curtain flapping in the window, I knew why.

  That nigga had dipped. And he’d taken every dime of my money with him.

  I sat there trembling and defeated. I had been caught up in some pretty fucked-up misadventures in my life, but this shit right here was about to bake the cake. I wished like hell I could put my life on rewind. If I coulda, I woulda took back every dime I had thrown away on senseless bullshit since me and Bunni had brought our happy asses back home from Texas. If I coulda, I woulda hit all those hot nightclubs and fancy designer stores, and gave back all the stupid clothes, fancy jewelry, expensive liquor, and designer drugs that I had blown my once-in-a-lifetime hundred-thousand-dollar inheritance on!

  Hell yeah! If only I coulda, I most definitely woulda!

  Once again my ass was damn near broke.

  Gutta was gonna be back on the streets real soon, and I had sat up racking my brain all night wondering exactly how that maniac was gonna serve me. I had thought about hiding out at my conniving grandmother’s house, or with one of my crazy aunts who lived in the projects, but I didn’t trust none of them trifling LaRues to look out for me. Shit, they had neve
r liked me anyway, and all Gutta had to do was toss a twenty-dollar bill up in the air and every last one of them woulda squealed on my ass before the money could hit the ground. And that went for Granny’s scandalous ass too.

  Fear was gnawing at me all down in my bones, and it kept me frozen like a cockroach caught under a bright light. I didn’t know if Gutta was gonna shoot me, slit my throat, or choke me out until I took my last breath, but I knew he was gonna do me. I knew that shit for sure.

  I had already written out my obituary and picked out my funeral gear. It was a powder blue sequined mini-dress with fluffy blue feathers around the plunging, low-cut neckline. It was short enough to show off my banging banana legs, and I had a sweet page-boy-style Glama-Glo deluxe wig with powder blue and silver-streaked bangs that went perfectly with it. I was sitting with my feet propped up on the coffee table while Peaches polished my toenails in the exact same shade of blue, when my cell phone buzzed and a number with an 817 area code popped up on my screen.

  “Dane!” I hollered as soon as I answered the phone. “What’s good in your hood, big brother?”

  In a flash, Bunni was all up in my face jumping up and down. “He wanna talk to me, right? Uh-huh, his fine Domino ass is tryna holla, ain’t he?”

  “Hell no he ain’t!” I said, laughing as I pressed the phone to my chest so Dane wouldn’t hear me. “If he wanted to holla at your stank ass he woulda called you and not me!”

  I was kinda happy to be getting a call from Texas. Dane was the second-oldest boy in the Dominion family, and me and him was real cool. He was one of them laid-back college boys and he could rap his ass off, and me and Bunni had spent many nights getting lifted off his trees and tips off his liq. Dane’s style was usually smooth with just a thin layer of street grime on it, but right now his easygoing voice sounded kinda pressed out coming through my telephone line.