Trust in No Man

by Cash

  “Go faster,” moaned Shan, rolling her hips upward to meet his powerful thrusts.

  Youngblood increased his pace until her pussy started talking to him. Then, he put her feet on his shoulders and started hitting the bottom of her well.

  “Yeah, nigga, fuck me!” she cried.

  Youngblood didn’t have to be prodded any further. Her sex brought the beast out of him and before long, they were screaming each other’s names as they erupted in climax together.

  Lil’ T woke up wailing just as their cries of passion simmered. Shan was as weak as a wet noodle and couldn’t move.

  “Boo, get your baby,” she said on faint breath.

  “A’ight, I miss my lil’ man, anyway.” Youngblood got up and slipped on his boxers and then picked his son up out of the crib and brought him over to the bed. “Daddy just blew Mama’s back out,” he bragged.

  Lil’ T smiled, like he comprehended. That cracked Youngblood up. He laid down beside Shan and placed the baby on his chest. Placing one arm around Shan, he held them both until all three of them were sound asleep. At that moment, everything was peaches and cream.

  But would the peace between them last? He wondered.

  ***

  Two days later

  Youngblood was at the crib chillin’ in the living room and high off of some bomb ass weed. He looked up at Shan through squinted eyes as she came into the room wearing tight stretch pants and a wife-beater.

  Stopping right in front of him, she asked, “Are you still going to let me use the car to go to the mall with my girls?”

  “Fuck no! Not dressed like that.”

  “Tsk! What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” She threw her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side.

  “I ain’t gotta answer that shit. Go change into some jeans and a shirt that don’t show your muthafuckin’ nipples or your ass ain’t going no goddam where.” He snatched his car keys off of the table and put them in his pocket.

  “You’re a damn trip! Why you gotta be so fuckin’ jealous? Eww! I can’t stand you sometimes.” She turned and stormed to the bedroom.

  When she came back out she was dressed more appropriately.

  “That’s better. Now, go get Lil T. You’re taking him with you or you can’t go,” he said.

  “Why?” she complained.

  “‘Cause I said so.”

  Youngblood was hoping that having the baby with her would block her from getting with another nigga while she was out. He didn’t really trust her with her friends, who he believed was always tryna hook her up with different niggas behind his back.

  Besides, he couldn’t forget Shan’s reputation for having her legs open all night, like a drive-thru, before they had hooked up.

  Shan gave him the evil eye before going to get Lil T.

  This shit don’t make no sense. If I wanna fuck a nigga, I’ll fuck him with Lil T with me, she muttered to herself.

  Youngblood knew he had pissed her off, but he didn’t care. When he gave her the car keys, Shan practically snatched them out of his hand.

  “Whatever, shawdy. Just have your ass home before it gets dark outside.” He fired up another stick of weed and stretched out on the couch.

  “Boy, bye.” Shan left out of the door.

  Hours later

  Youngblood hadn’t realized he had dozed off until he woke up and checked his watch for the time. Shan had only been gone a couple of hours so he tried not to let his distrust cause him to stress.

  Fuck it! If she wanna creep, she gonna do it anyway, no matter how tight of a leash I try to keep on her.

  Resigned to the fact that he couldn’t watch Shan 24/7, 365, Youngblood pushed all concerns of her faithfulness out of mind. He got up and went to the bathroom to take a leak.

  After washing his hands, he went to the bedroom, sat down on the bed and started playing a game on his PlayStation. The bedroom door creaked open, causing him to turn his head in the direction of the sound.

  Poochie came into the room and sat beside him. “Youngblood, can you loan me $50?”

  He could tell that she was already geeked up by the way she was looking.

  The fuck if I’ma give her my bread to take to the dope man.

  “I ain’t got no money,” he lied.

  “Boy, stop being stingy and loan your mother-in-law $50. That ain’t shit to you.”

  “I told you, I ain’t got no money. Straight up!” Her begging was starting to irritate the fuck out of him.

  Poochie realized that she wasn’t making any ground, so she switched up her game. She got up and closed the bedroom door and then slowly walked back over to the bed.

  Youngblood eyed her with suspicion. “Why da fuck you close the door?” he questioned her.

  Poochie smiled, connivingly. “Because I’m about to suck your dick and I don’t want Shan to walk to come home and catch us.” She reached down and then rubbed his dick through his boxers.

  “Yo, you trippin’!” He slapped her hand away.

  “No, I’m not. Come on, let me make you nut in my mouth.” She grabbed his dick again and stroked it with a skilled hand.

  “Poochie, don’t do...”

  Before Youngblood could protest she had him inside of her warm mouth, weakening his resistance. Slurping his wood like it was a lollipop, Poochie asked, “Does it feel good to you?”

  “No!”

  “Nigga, don’t lie.”

  Poochie took his dick deeper into her mouth, all the way to the back of her throat. She sucked him hard, and coated his meat with her spit.

  Youngblood forgot all about what was right or wrong. He grabbed the back of her head and forced his wood in and out of her mouth, causing her to gag.

  With money to buy crack at stake, Poochie sucked his dick so good, Youngblood busted down her throat in less than ten minutes.

  “Argh!” he growled like a wild beast as she rubbed his balls to coax more cum out of his nuts.

  When he had released every last drop, she opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out. “All gone,” she said.

  Youngblood couldn’t do nothing but compliment her and smile. “You did that shit.”

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

  “Because I wanna fuck. You down?”

  Poochie took a few seconds to ponder his question. Sucking his dick was bad enough. Fucking him would be the ultimate betrayal.

  “Nah, I don’t think we should do that.” She desperately tried to hold on to some of her pride.

  Youngblood, grabbed his pants off of the chair, where he’d placed them last night, and pulled a roll of bills out of the pocket. “I’ma give you $200,” he offered.

  Poochie’s eyes lit up. With that much money she could buy twenty $10 rocks!

  “What you gon’ do?” asked Youngblood.

  Poochie took off her top, and then wiggled out of her shorts and panties. “You bet’ not tell my daughter.”

  “Never dat.”

  Youngblood’s eyes roamed all over her body. For a basehead. Poochie still looked kind of good. Her titties sagged a little but she wasn’t all skin and bones. She was slim but shapely, and her pussy stuck out from between her legs like a plump peach.

  That muthafucka fat as fuck!

  Youngblood boned up again.

  “I swear, if you ever tell Shan, I’ma stab your ass to death,” Poochie threatened as she laid down on her stomach, propped her ass up in the air, and spread her legs open.

  Youngblood stared at her meaty pussy and quickly kicked his boxers off. “Ain’t but three muthafuckas gonna ever know about this --- me, you and God!”

  “Don’t say that shit!” Poochie looked over her shoulder at him and scowled.

  “Shut up, and take this dick.

  Youngblood pushed her face down on the pillow and guided his engorged pole inside of her. As he began moving in and out, Poochie’s pussy moistened. Before long, they were fucking like a couple.

  After Poochie came crashing do
wn from her high, she cried over her indiscretion. She’d vowed to quit getting high.

  The past two nights, Poochie had dreams about smoking a rock as big as a baseball, with a glass pipe the size of a saxophone and she did well to fight it. But now, the crack jones was calling her, and Youngblood was offering her the means to answer that call.

  “Like you told me a few days ago, you do something for me, I’ll do something for you,” he bargained. “I got a fiddy spot if you let a nigga see that monkey. And I’ll break you off an extra $100 if you let me hit.”

  Poochie resisted his proposal, although it was a battle to do so. “Boy, get the fuck out of my room before I hit you upside the head.” She grabbed a hairbrush and threatened him with it.

  “A’ight, you got that lil bit.” Youngblood threw his hands up and retreated out of the door without saying another word.

  When he was gone, Poochie felt proud of herself for once. But that feeling didn’t last long.

  A short while later, Youngblood returned from a quick trip up the block to the trap. Poochie was sitting on the bed, painting her toenails, with the towel still wrapped around her.

  Youngblood pushed the bedroom door open and strode in the room with a smirk on his face.

  Poochie looked up. “Out!” She pointed to the door.

  Youngblood ignored her demand. He walked toward the bed, flashing several small plastic baggies that contained Poochie’s weakness. “Fuck with me and I’ma fuck with you,” he said.

  “No!” she spat. But her sincerity sounded weak.

  “C’mon, Poochie,” said Youngblood. “Move that towel. Let a nigga see what you working with. Shan ain’t gonna find out.”

  “I said no, didn’t I?”

  “A’ight, I ain’t gonna press you. Here you go anyway. This is just on the strength.” He tossed one of the baggies in her lap.

  “What’s this for? I told you I’m not finna do nothing with you.”

  “It ain’t even like that, Poochie. That’s just on GP ‘cause you a’ight with me.”

  “And I ain’t gotta do nothing for it?” she asked, suspicious of his sudden generosity.

  “Nawl, you good.” Youngblood gamed, knowing that after she took that first hit she would do just about anything for the next one.

  Poochie got up and went to her closet to retrieve the lone crack pipe that she hadn’t broken up and thrown away. From there, she walked over to her dresser and grabbed a lighter and then she sat on the edge of the bed and surrendered to that monster that she had fought so hard to keep at bay the past few days.

  As soon as she took that first hit and the euphoric high set in, she wanted to get higher. She looked up at Youngblood with bulging eyes. “You got some more?” she asked.

  Youngblood smiled. “Yeah, let’s work something out.”

  Poochie didn’t respond at first. She sat there geeked and wrestling with the small amount of morals she had left. But those rocks had more power over her than her principles could fight off. In one last desperate hope to hold out, she said, “Are you going to really make me do this?”

  “I ain’t making you do nothing. It’s all good. I’m out.” Youngblood turned and acted as if he was about to leave.

  Poochie sprung up off of the bed and damn near tackled him. “Come back! I’ma give you what you want, but you bet’ not ever tell my daughter,” she said.

  “You ain’t een gotta worry about dat,” he promised as he slid another rock into Poochie’s palm and began unbuckling his belt.

  She accepted it and then she dropped her head in shame as she unknotted the towel and let it fall to the floor.

  Youngblood pulled a condom out of his pocket and began undressing. When he was butt naked, he guided Poochie down on the bed and took her last bit of pride.

  CHAPTER 4

  The next night, Youngblood had put Poochie and pussy out of his mind and he was back focused on hitting licks. He was at Lonnie’s crib leaned up against the kitchen counter smoking a blunt and discussing a planned robbery with his stick-up partners.

  Youngblood’s pants sagged off his boney ass the way young thugs sported ‘em. Females always told him that he resembled Tupac, but as he caught a reflection of himself in the compact mirror that we lying on the counter, he didn’t think so. His hair was braided in cornrows and his skin tone was two shades darker than Pac’s. But they both were about that thug life, Youngblood had to admit.

  He glanced up and looked at Shotgun Pete, who was sitting at the kitchen table snorting coke. He’d been at it for a minute. The powder he was snorting was so potent it had torn the skin inside his nose and blood ran from his nostril, but he was steady snorting more.

  That nigga gon’ end up being a muthafuckin’ junkie, thought Youngblood as they listened to Lonnie lay out the plans before they rode out on a caper.

  Youngblood kept tryna get one of them to switch roles with him tonight. He wanted to run up in the vic’s house while Lonnie or Shotgun Pete waited outside in the car. But neither of them wanted to trust their life to him if something went wrong once they kicked in the door and ran up in the spot.

  “Y’all niggas must think I won’t bust this bitch,” said Youngblood, slamming a clip in his Nine. “I wish a nigga would try to buck. I’ll leave everything in that house stanking.”

  “I feel you, youngin’, but it ain’t all about that,” said Lonnie.

  Shotgun Pete looked up from the lines of coke in front of him. “Junior, you got a lot to learn. You’re still a virgin in the jack game,” he added with an undertone of derision.

  Youngblood noted the affront but didn’t speak on it. He stored it in his mind along with the other small shit Pete had let come out of hood mouth.

  “I hear you talking,” he said.

  “You better do more than hear me. You better take heed ‘cause one fuck up can put you in the penitentiary or in a pine box,” said Pete and then he began recountung several of his own foul-ups that had almost turned out fatal.

  When Youngblood went to the bathroom, Lonnie placed both palms flat on the table and leaned down in Pete’s face. “Blood, that powder got you slippin’! If a nigga wasn’t there, he don’t need to know about that! I don’t give a fuck how official he is!”

  Win, lose, or draw, Lonnie never discussed capers once they were completed. To his way of thinking, what was done was done and the only thing that could come from loose lips was an indictment.

  That coke is gonna be Pete’s downfall, he mused.

  However, he had to admit when it was time to pull out that steel and lay someone down, Shotgun Pete had never failed him.

  “My bad, but that’s your boy, ain’t it?” Shotgun Pete offered in his own defense.

  Lonnie didn’t even reply because inside he was boiling hot. If he hadn’t put so much time into scouting out tonight’s lick, he would’ve called the whole thing off.

  He looked at Pete and shook his head. “Dawg, don’t let that white bitch bring you down,” he said, referring to the coke.

  Youngblood could feel the tension in the air when he returned from the bathroom. He looked from Lonnie to Pete and then back to Lonnie. “Everything good?” he asked.

  “Yeah, let’s roll out.” Lonnie walked out of the kitchen to go gather up his gear.

  Thirty minutes later, Lonnie knocked on the intended vic’s side door. He and Shotgun Pete we’re both wearing black ski masks over their faces. Lonnie knocked once more before stepping to the side, out of the vision of the peephole. If this ruse didn’t work, they were prepared to do a kick door.

  A few seconds later, a grandmotherly looking woman cracked the door. “William? That’s you?” her timid voice called out.

  William, her grandson, was the target of this lick.

  A second after Lonnie heard the security chain rattle, he rammed his shoulder into the door and forced his way inside, knocking William’s grandmother to the floor. Shotgun Pete quickly stepped in behind him and pulled the door up.

  “What do
y’all want?” asked the terrified woman.

  Before either of them could reply, William’s pregnant girlfriend came rushing in from the kitchen. When she saw the masked gunmen, she let out a loud scream.

  Pete slapped her across the face with the butt of his shotgun. “Bitch, you better shut the fuck up if you don’t wanna die!” he growled.

  Holding both hand over her busted mouth, the girl whimpered into her bloody palms.

  “Get on the floor!” Lonnie commanded.

  Once she was down on the floor, they quickly duct tapped both women’s hands and feet.

  “A’ight, we can do this the easy way or the hard way?” said Lonnie. “Tell me where William keeps good stash, and we’ll be out.”

  “There’s no money or drugs here,” the girl cried.

  Whap!

  Shotgun Pete cracked open her forehead. “Bitch, don’t lie to me!” he warned.

  Grandma got her old head cracked, too, when she claimed not to know what a stash was. “A’ight, y’all think this shit is a game?” Lonnie click-clacked a bullet into the chamber of his fo-fo.

  “Yeah, dawg, kill those bitches,” Shotgun Pete egged him on.

  Granny heard those words and she started singing like Diana Ross. “Okay! I’ll tell you where everything is! Just don’t kill us.”

  After she gave up the location of the loot, Lonnie gagged their mouths, and then he went to search the house while Shotgun Pete looked out of the living room window, in case William unexpectedly came home.

  Youngblood was on post outside in the nondescript Crown Victoria, blending in with the night. While watching the block, he was thinking about the way Shan’s mama had put that pussy on him the other day. Though Poochie was a base head, she still had some bomb ass snapper.

  Even better than her daughter’s, Youngblood reminisced.

  As he mind become occupied with lurid thoughts of Poochie, William pulled into the driveway in his SUV and climbed out of the vehicle. The sound of the driver’s door shutting snapped Youngblood back to the present.