Black Scarface

by Jimmy Dasaint

  Pamela and Face moved into a small two bedroom apartment on thesecond floor. The apartment was filthy with trash and empty beer bottles everywhere. Even the paint on the walls had almost faded away. However, Pamela was determined to make the best of it.

  A week after moving in, Pamela and Face had the place looking a whole lot better; like someone who actually cared about their surroundings lived there. They had slaved, cleaning the place from top to bottom and inside and out. They painted the walls, cleaned and waxed the floors, fixed broken door knobs, cleaned all the windows, and placed small 'Wild Flower' scented air fresheners in every room.

  Pamela called Momma and had her send $1500 by Western Union to buy her and Face some new things: bedroom suites, a small dinette set, living room couch and chair, two TVs, dishes, towels and wash cloths, refrigerator, and a small stock of food - all from an unclaimed-freight storethat promised to deliver and set up as part of the cost. Of the fifteen hundred dollars, she spent an even thousand. The owner of the store gave her a discount since she was buying everything from him. She felt like kissing him for his generosity.

  At the last minute she saw and bought new locks, knobs and deadbolts for the front door, knowing they lived in one of the most violent,drug infested neighborhoods in all of L.A.

  Allen came over from time to time to check on them and was pleasedto see they had made such improvements in their living conditions. With every visit, Pamela could see the fear and nervousness racing through his body. On his second visit, he brought Pamela a fully loaded Glock-17 .9mm automatic. She accepted it gratefully. They didn't trust the people living around them, and Pamela promised him she would sleep with it under her pillow every night.

  Had anyone tried to break in she would have shot them dead to protect herself and Face. She swore she would never be raped and beaten again...and she would die before allowing anything to happen to herson.

  Surprisingly, after living in the Bombcourt Motel for a month, neither Pamela nor Face had a single problem with their neighbors. Most of the tenants stayed to themselves in the safety and comfort of their smallapartments.

  Like always, a lot of the neighborhood men tried their best to get with the fine new female from Philly; but Pamela showed them no interest and offered no encouragement at all. But, that didn't stop them from tryingtheir luck from time to time. One never knew when one might get lucky, was their philosophy.

  They all agreed she was the finest woman in the whole neighborhood; fine enough to pick and choose whomever she wanted. There was yet to be a single man in all of L.A. who had caught her clear, deep, hazel eyes.

  Ten year-old Face was growing up fast. Not only in height and weight, but also in knowledge and he had a deep understanding for the life he and Pamela were living. At night, before going to bed, Pamela would sit on theedge of his bed, and they would have long conversations about the important things in life. She schooled him on everything she knew, passing down all the jewels and game that Norman had given to her. Pamela was serious about raising herself a strong, black king.

  As she would speak, he would sit there spellbound, absorbing everything she said with an understanding far surpassing his age.

  "Always watch your surroundings," she would say.

  "Yes, Mom," he would answer seriously, knowing trouble and danger could come from any direction without warning.

  "And remember. There are three types of people who enter into eachof our lives..."

  "What are they?" he asked, looking deep into her eyes, as she lookedinto his.

  Black Scarface

  "People who add to our lives; People who take away from it; Andpeople who leach onto our lives, giving just enough to keep us believing that they will change and become supportive instead of a burden," she explained.

  Face reached out his arms and pulled his beautiful young mother into a tight embrace. He loved her more than anything in life. She was his Queen, his protector, and his teacher.

  That night, as he lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, he promised himself that one day he would make his mother proud of him and give hereverything she ever wanted in life.

  Most days when Face would be out with his Uncle Allen and Quincy, Pamela would sit by the front window watching all the people who hung around the building. She made mental notes of who everyone was and what role they played in the neighborhood; the drug dealers, gangbangers, pimps, prostitutes, and all drug users. She sat and studied them for hours at a time until she got to know them by sight alone, and from any angle.

  One day as she sat at the window watching all the on-going traffic, she saw a light blue Mercedes Benz pull to the curb in front of the building. When she saw the tall, handsome, brown skinned man step out of the car, she couldn't help but stare at him. Not only was he fine, the man was tattooed up, with muscles popping out all over his body.

  For the first time in years, Pamela felt her body shiver. She hadn't had sex in well over a year and now her body and mind were both telling her it was time. Her hawk eyes scanned the fine male prey, watching as he walked around with strength and confidence. She saw the drug dealers giving him the highest respect and passing him large stacks of money.

  It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out he was some type of major player in the L.A. drug game. Power, strength, influence and confidence were all a part of his outer character.

  She continued to watch him with lustful eyes. Who is this man? Sheasked herself. One thing was for sure, she wouldn't rest until she found out. And that wouldn't be hard to do around here. Everyone seemed toknow him.

  When he got back into his Mercedes and drove off, she felt her heartbeat returning to normal. Just the sight of him had her nipples hard and her panties moist. She smiled, and after a long deep breath, got up and walked toward the bathroom with a secret smile on her lips. Finally, someone in L.A. had caught her eye! Now, all she had to do was find out the identity of the handsome stranger.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Philadelphia, PA...

  Veronica walked her beautiful, young naked body around her bedroom turning on all the lights as the two white men watched her closely, lustfully, and in complete and total awe. They both sported erections in their slacks. She was referred to them by their close mutual friend, Jonathan Goldstein.

  The men, Charles Cline and Jeffery Logan were both powerful men in the local government. Both were typical politicians, married with kids,wealthy, and seriously under-serviced by their wives. Despite their successful careers and the plush lifestyle they provided for them, their wives had headaches, or other things that were more important.

  Their husbands were driven to women like Veronica and her hiddencameras.

  Currently a City Councilman and the son of a prominent United States Senator in Washington, D.C., Charles Cline was a 37-year-old career politician. His close friend, Jeffrey Logan, was Branch Chief of thelocal office at the I.R.S.

  Veronica walked back to them, smiled and handed each of them a condom. They stripped out of their clothes and after rolling the condoms on, joined her on the wide king sized bed.

  As the cameras rolled and the recorders recorded every sound, the two men had sex with her in every erotic sexual position they desired. Veronica returned the favor by throwing in a few compromising positions of her own that would put them into questionable positions when seen on tape.

  While they were lost in her heavenly sensual paradise, she was moaning out loud, her mind at the bank adding up all the money in her head. To her, this was business as usual. And her business was granting wealthy successful white men their every sexual desire.

  After an hour of intense sex, Veronica laid back on the plush pillows at the head of the bed and said, "Okay, gentlemen, its ya’lls turn.”

  Charles and Jeffery both stood up from the bed with throbbing erections, stepped to the foot of the bed and turned to face Veronica. She spread her legs wide, with a knowing smile, and inserted her fingers into her pussy. She watched with a smile as the two men e
mbraced with a longlascivious kiss, the cameras rolling.

  Charles and Jeffrey weren't just best friends. The two happily married men were homosexual lovers who sometimes enjoyed sharing their secret sex life with a young beautiful black woman.

  Veronica watched as Charles turned and bent over the edge of the bed. He stared intently at her finger-stuffed pussy and licked his lips. Jeffrey stepped behind him, and watching Veronica's fingers work her pussy, shoved his dick inside Charles.

  Veronica looked on as Jeffrey fucked his best friend from behind. Charles kept his erection and after several minutes of taking it from behind, ejaculated onto the bedspread. And just as he did, Jeffrey stiffened and unloaded into Charles. They quickly changed places and the game began again.

  As they continued to please each other, Veronica lay back pleasing herself. Occasionally, she would watch the men. In the privacy of her bedroom, the only sounds that could be heard were the hard moans that escaped all three of their mouths.

  A few hours later, after they had all taken showers and gotten dressed, they walked downstairs. "Here you go, Beautiful," Charles said,passing Veronica a fat white envelope.

  She peeped inside and saw the stack of hundred dollar bills. She kissed the two men and after a hug, they promised to see each other real soon. Veronica watched them leave. As soon as the car was gone, she closed the door.

  She walked to the sofa, sat down and immediately counted the $1000 in the envelope. She smiled, knowing this was just a down payment on the future. Everything they did tonight was safely caught on tape, in full digital color and surround sound.

  Los Angeles, California A few weeks later...

  Pamela was so sick of being stuck in the apartment that she decided to call Poo and catch up on all the latest gossip. A half-hour later, she climbed into Poo's blue Cadillac and he drove slowly down the street. She was secure knowing Face was with his uncle, Allen, and Quincy. They had come by and taken Face to a Dodgers baseball game. Face and Quincy were still close friends, even though their mothers hated each other.

  Poo told Pamela that Peaches was still, secretly smoking crack and getting gang-banged by his friends. He also told her that he had stopped having sex with her, but she knew he was lying. She had learned a long time ago that no man turned down free pussy.

  After they went by ‘Aunt Kizzy's Restaurant’ to eat lunch, they got back into Poo's car and headed for the ‘Fox Hills’ shopping mall. Poo spentnearly half of his money on Pamela in an attempt to impress and spoil her by buying her new clothes and expensive shoes. She even got him to buy a pair of Air Jordan sneakers for Face. The whole time she stayed close to his side, smiling from ear to ear like a teenager in love. She even let Poo feel on her ass a few times, without saying a word in protest.

  He's the perfect trick, she thought. One of the perfect people she could manipulate out of his money, without ever having to shell out any pussy in return. Men like Poo paid women like her, just to show them off. It was a good thing too because she never intended to sleep with him. She had set her sights a lot higher, and being the master of seduction that she was, sheknew how to make him feel as if he was in complete control, when in reality he was nothing more than a pawn in her game.

  When they got back inside the car with all their shopping bags, Poo started the car and drove away. Halfway back to Pamela's apartment, his pager went off and he looked at the number with a loud, "Shit!"

  "What's wrong, Baby?" she asked in a soft, sexy tone that gave Poo an instant erection.

  "I have to go see somebody," he replied. "It's on the other side oftown."

  "A female?" Pamela asked jealously.

  "No," he grinned. "It's my home-boy and it's real important."

  "Okay, then," she smiled. "Go handle your business. I'll come along for the ride and you can drop me off after you finish."

  "Cool," Poo said excitedly, making a sharp u-turn and driving downSlaussen Avenue.

  Thirty minutes later, Poo pulled up in front of Personal Touch Carwash on Flourence Avenue. Parked all around the popular carwash were some of the most expensive automobiles on the market.

  Poo opened the glove compartment and took out a small brown leather bag. "I'll be right back. Just chill," he said, grinning his gold grin, then he opened the door and got out.

  Pamela wondered what was in the bag as she watched him walk away, but then she switched her attention to several men standing around conversating. Just from the looks of them, she could tell they were all about money. The expensive jewelry they wore and the clothes that covered their athletic bodies told their life stories. She knew these men were the real ballers; the hustlers and players that ran Los Angeles. She could smell money from the scent of their expensive colognes.

  Unlike Poo, who had vanished from her sight when she started studying the money, these men carried a different type of swagger. These were the puppet-masters. And they had made their fortunes offof puppets like Poo.

  When Poo and two other men walked out of the carwash, Pamela couldn't believe her eyes. It was HIM! The same man who made her body shiver with lust from a hundred feet away!

  She had found out his name was Big Mouse, and every hustler and drug dealer at the Bombcourt Motel had worked for him. This was the first time she had seen him since she sat watching him from her window. And today he was much better looking!

  Pamela saw the brown leather bag that Poo had taken inside with him. It was now in Big Mouse's hand. She was almost positive it was a bag of cash.

  The other man was a short brown man with a full beard, and he seemed to be getting the most attention. Pamela sat back and observed thewhole scene through the windshield of Poo's Cadillac, thinking, plotting and preparing her next move. Now she had a starting place.

  "Is it all here, Poo?" Mouse asked.

  "Yeah, homey. It's all ten stacks," he replied.

  "Cool. Hold up a minute; let me walk my man Freeway over to his

  car."

  Poo leaned against the side of Mouse's Mercedes, and watched as heand Freeway walked away.

  "Rick, I’m ‘a call you in a few days, homey. Right now shit is real sweet." Mouse said, watching Freeway climb inside his Silver Cloud.

  "Alright, just call me when you ready, Mouse," Freeway said, "I'm flying to Miami tonight. But I'll be back in the morning."

  The two men shook hands, and Mouse closed the back door of the Rolls. He stood and watched as the car seemed to float out of the parking lot, then he walked back over to Poo.

  At that very moment, Pamela had decided to make her move, she couldn't hold back any longer. Seeing Mouse in a white tank-top showing offhis thick muscular arms was making her hot and horny.

  There was something about the man that made her heart beat faster and her pussy get wetter. The only other man to make her feel this way had been Norman.

  After a long sigh, she opened the door and stepped out. Every man standing around couldn't help but stare at her and lust filled everyone's eyes. She could almost see them drooling like starving dogs. She smiled; satisfied that she had gotten the reaction she wanted. She also saw that Mouse stood speechless. His eyes locked on her like a spotlight.

  "Damn, she fine!" he whispered.

  Poo stood with a proud expression on his face, thinking they thoughtshe belonged to him. However, Mouse was already laying plans to take her for himself. Poo thought they would respect his claim to his new girl.Wrong!

  Pamela walked up to Poo and smiled, "Poo, can you do me a big favor and leave me and this handsome man alone for a few minutes?"

  "What?" Poo asked in disbelief, his eyes big and his mouth open. "You heard her," Mouse said, "leave us alone for a few minutes."

  Poo knew by Mouse's intense expression that he was as serious as aheart attack, so he took a walk over to his Cadillac to pout. He couldn't believe it; but just like the puppet he was, he dropped his head and left them alone. He knew it would not be a good idea to question Mouse's authority, especially in the presence of a beautiful
woman like Pamela. He wonderedwhat made her get out of the car in the first place.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Inside Hood's Condominium... "Dada, dada," Lil' Robbie said excitedly, crawling over to his father.

  Hood leaned down and picked up his smiling, happy son, then playfully swung him around in the air. Lil' Robbie howled with laughter as Hood made a flying airplane sound. Britney sat on the couch watching and smiling as Hood played with his child. She understood that a father was apt to play the fool at times for their child's happiness. Hood was noexception.

  Hood sat Lil' Robbie on the floor and watched as he immediatelycrawled over to Britney. She picked him up and began bouncing him on her knee.

  "What time do you have to be back at work?" Hood asked, leaningdown and kissing her lips.

  "Not for another half an hour," she replied, returning his kiss.

  "Did you hear any news down at the station?" he asked, sitting downbeside her on the couch.

  "No, but if I hear any word of a drug raid, you'll be the first to know," she grinned, continuously bouncing Lil' Robbie on her knee.

  Hood put his arm around her shoulders, as if announcing to the world that she was still his. She was the only woman he trusted and that was the main reason he loved her. Another was the fact she was a sergeant on the Philadelphia Police Force, and she could make sure Hood was always two steps ahead of the authorities. His friend, Detective Ron Perry, did the same, as well.

  "This boy looks just like you," Britney stated, kissing Lil' Robbie onhis lips.

  Hood smiled and shook his head in agreement, his chest swelling with pride. Everyone who had seen the two together swore the child was the spitting image of his father. Britney's observation came as no surprise.

  "Will you ever tell me who the mother is?" she asked.

  "No," Hood stated firmly. "As far as I'm concerned, that bitch is dead."