From the Streets to the Sheets (14 page)

“Now take your hand and rub it up and down my shaft while you suck on the head. I wanna feel ya lips on me, baby! Swirl your tongue around on the head real fast. Yeah, yeah, that’s it. Now go down further and lick my balls!” he instructed her.

She did as she was told. Mikala put her thing down like she was a wily veteran at the trade. After she teased his balls with her tongue for a spell, she worked her mouth back up to his dick and took the whole thing in her mouth at once, without gagging on it. Her head game was on point. Pleasing Kareem made her hornier and hornier.

“Don’t stop, baby! I’m about to cum! Let me shoot this shit in ya mouth! Don’t pull away! Take it like a soldier!” Kareem yelled as he released all of his little soldiers into Mikala’s mouth. She swallowed every drop of his semen and loved the taste.
It tastes just as good as it did in my dreams,
she thought.

The night wasn’t over yet. Mikala allowed Kareem to recuperate for a while, then sucked his penis gently until it was hard again. Kareem got on top of her and proceeded to take a voyage into her precious garden with his love tool. Her pussy felt like an ocean as he did a freaky slip ’n slide in and out of her without losing a beat in his stroke. They went at it so hard that the top mattress slid off of the box spring and hung halfway onto the floor. Mikala held on to the headboard with both hands to maintain her balance.

Kareem took the game up a notch when he lifted her off of the bed while he was still inside of her. He pounded her insides relentlessly as he leaned her up against the bedroom door. Next, he carried her across the room and sat her down on the dresser as they continued fucking. The heat coming off Mikala’s back steamed up the mirror on the back of the dresser.

“Hit this ass, baby. Damn, my pussy ain’t never felt this good before!” Mikala screamed. Her legs began to tremble from the good vibrations Kareem was giving her. Each orgasm released miles of pent-up sexual frustration that had built up in her. Kareem knew how to hit all the right spots on her body to get a response from her. Jamel had never made her cum this many times in one night!

Kareem turned her around and tapped that thing from behind as he watched himself in the mirror. He grabbed her hips with both hands. Watching her ass jiggle with every stroke made him more and more excited. He took his finger and stuck it in her asshole. Mikala lost any composure that she had left as she screamed at the top of her lungs for him to keep doing what he was doing. The double penetration sent her into convulsions as her body shook uncontrollably. Kareem couldn’t contain himself any longer. He pulled his penis outta her and instructed her to turn around. Mikala lay on her back on the bed and eagerly awaited his eruption as he stroked his member. Kareem took his enlarged penis and placed it between Mikala’s breasts. The friction between her twins left him invigorated and craving more. When he couldn’t control his dick any longer, he ejaculated all over her mouth and face. She eagerly received his semen until there wasn’t a drop left.

Drained, the tired lovers pushed the top mattress back onto the box spring and passed out from exhaustion. They awoke the next morning in each other’s arms.

“So did you enjoy yourself?” Kareem asked her.

“No, you were a lousy lover! Sike, Kareem, I was just playing. If you ask me a stupid question, then expect to get a stupid answer,” she laughed.

“Oh, I thought so. I know I can handle my business,” Kareem said cockily.

“Yeah, I can’t even front, you’re a stud. You had my body tingling in ways I have never felt before.”

“So where do we go from here?” Kareem asked.

“I’m not sure. I’m not really looking for a man right now. You know I just got out of a bad situation. I’m just trying to do me for a while. I say we just enjoy the moment and let tomorrow take care of itself when it comes,” Mikala replied.

“I’m cool with that,” Kareem said. “But I’m digging you already, boo, and I would really like something more.”

Mikala just looked at him. She’d never been anybody’s freak the way she had freaked for Kareem. He’d touched her heart and given her the best sex she’d ever had, and she damn sure didn’t regret the experience.

“Me too,” she finally said, refusing to front. She had a real good feeling about Kareem, and wanted to see what the future held. Borne didn’t have to be her fantasy anymore, and she could leave that Bullet under the bed and let it gather dust. Who needed fantasies anyway? Mikala had a feeling she’d found herself a real live homey-lover-friend, and his name was Kareem.

CHARGE IT TO THE GAME

Jamise L. Dames

Flame’s body pulsed. Tensing and relaxing her muscles, she made her succulent booty clap in the mark’s face as she bent down to touch her pedicured toes, then got low with it, butterflying her legs. Bringing her knees together, then apart, she allowed him brief glimpses of her perfectly waxed, milk-chocolate-covered cherry, then flowed her deliciousness into a bobble.

Gyrating her firm, round onion, she backed that thang up until her ass jiggled a few centimeters in front of Robert’s nose, then swung it like a pendulum, hypnotizing him with her rhythm. Far away enough to make him beg for more, she closed in on him to tempt him with her juicy slit and iced-out clit ring. Magically, she worked her sweetness clockwise, then rolled her jelly counterclockwise while hooking her arms through the inside of her thighs, spreading herself further. Looking back at him, she knew it was only a matter of time before she’d get what she wanted: him to sign on the dotted line so she could make enough change to take care of her fifteen-year-old sister, Mercedes, and hopefully get Enrique off her back for good.

Shaking
papi chulo
was going to be the hardest. He wasn’t the kind of brotha you could just blow off. He was a crazy-ass kingpin from Spanish Harlem who’d put more bodies in the ground than a cemetery.

Fuckin’ Power.

Snaking her body, she rolled in a deep grind, winding her hips and popping her coochie. Rubbing her perfectly rounded, toffee titties under the black light, she thought about her man. Power had fucked up royally, sticking Enrique for the couple of kilos he’d fronted him. Now Flame would have to dance
and
fuck their way out of it until Power surfaced from a major lick he was putting down somewhere in the Carolinas. Either that, or Flame hoped his gangstaazz homeboy Whiz came through with half of the bricks in exchange for her freedom, which was unlikely because he hadn’t touched base with her in a week. In the meantime, Enrique held Flame responsible for Power’s sins. A down-ass bitch always held her nigga down.

On her knees, she stopped, dropped, and humped the floor as Robert sprinkled her with oil. Rubbing her skin, she slathered her body, ran her hand down to her triangle, and squeezed her phatness through her now oily G-string. Her eyes never left the vic. Although Power was on her mind, her focus was on Robert. He was her one and only way out.

The hidden camera, tucked in a far-off corner, had been capturing their images for weeks. Her, pole dancing on the bar he’d had installed in the apartment. Robert, thirstily lapping her parted coochie lips for one more drop of her nectar. Her, riding his white stallion backwards like an untamed bull.

She had just about everything she needed on tape. Almost every blackmailing detail that would make his wife run to the divorce lawyer demanding half her husband’s shit, Flame had recorded live and in living color. Now all she needed to do was wait for Power’s call that would confirm that the game was over, and make Robert tell her he loved her. She knew from experience that many women could forgive their husband’s sexual infidelities, but she’d never met one who could overlook their man falling in love with another woman. She grinned, her iced-out gold crown gleaming in the light. Either Robert would get served by his Mrs. or he’d dish out Flame’s demands.

Tsking, she found herself almost feeling sorry for him as he jacked away at his erect, pink dick, but she quickly recovered. Robert had had no remorse when he’d rented an on-the-low fuck spot for them to get their mash on, and his wife wasn’t even a fleeting thought when he was pounding and stirring in Flame’s sweetness. No, he was just another dick who was trickin’ for her treat. An attorney who broke the laws of his marriage when he left the office. Robert had played for almost a month, but now he’d either come up short a grip because he’d fallen for the slip, or he’d have to cut his wife a check for a lifetime. It was his call. Either way, Flame was going to get hers, or she’d sell his bitch the videotape to play in front of the judge.

Moving back an inch more, Flame squeezed her muscles until her pussy sucked the breath out of his nostrils, forcing him to breathe through his mouth. She shivered as he exhaled hot air against her entrance, blasts of excited, warm breath climbing her walls.

“Breathe for me, baby. Now blow in my booty,” she said, closing her eyes. If she imagined hard enough, her mind could transform Robert into Power so she could really enjoy fucking.

“Yes, honey,” Robert panted. “I’ll blow wherever you want me to. Even your cunt. Tell me that you want me to blow in your cunt. Say it, my chocolate whore.”

Flame tensed. “Cunt” irked the hell out of her. Got on her last damn nerve along with having a white man call her any kind of ho. Rolling her eyes, she went along with his game. Had no choice because she needed the paper, but she swore it would be the last time. She was a Harlem girl and hustla by nature, had worked many a brotha over for his cream. But she wasn’t a ho—’til life gave her no wins.

“Give me that sweet chocolate,” Robert urged.

Flame rolled over onto her back, widely parted her legs, then made her lower lips smack like they were kissing at him. Inching away as he crawled toward her, she slowly slipped her finger inside her heated tunnel, grinded against it until she became moist enough for him to hear it, then carefully removed it and sucked her juices until her hand was bone dry. Scissoring her thighs closed, then open, her pussy played peekaboo, teasing him. If she was putting on a show, Robert had to put on one too. He had to beg for it. She couldn’t settle for him just wanting the pussy, she had to make him foam at the mouth for a taste.

Without words, she talked to him. Wrapping her ankles around his head, she thrust her hips upward, making her clit ring brush his nose, then released herself back onto the floor when he attempted to lick her. Five separate times she seesawed her midsection to his mouth, causing his patience to weaken and her wetness to overflow. She didn’t give a damn that Robert was just a vic or how pink he was, with the blaze that was burning between her legs and no Power around to satisfy her fire, Robert was getting fucked today. And so was she. Getting
herself
off was the only way she could live with fucking for a dollar, because when it came down to it, that’s exactly what her hustle had become. Selling dreams and ass for cash—and her life. So she saw no reason not to get her nut off too especially because it could be her last one. Just the thought of her breath being snatched away twisted her up, made her work her middle even though Robert’s dick was little. Flame wasn’t gonna half-ass nothing, she was goin’ hard to make the scam phatten her
and
Enrique’s pockets.

“Come here.” Robert gripped her dancer’s waist and slid her toward him. “Why are you running away from me? You know I want you,” he whispered, on the verge of exploding thick in his voice.

Flame ran her fingers through her fire-engine-red hair. “I know, baby. I know,” she cooed. “But you’ve got to give me more than that if you want some more of this puddin’. Don’t you want . . .” she dipped two fingers inside her twat, rubbed her milk on his lips “. . . this?”

Robert nodded, hungrily taking her fingers into his mouth and sucking them.

“Well get down and show me. Prove it,” she said, standing.

Robert lay down and she climbed over him, squatting and aligning her pussy with his mouth.

“Open up for Mommy,” she demanded, then began to stroke between her split and toy with her clit. Moaning, she gave in to the throb of her pussy, removed her fingers, then bounced her ass on Robert’s neck as she covered his face with her wetness. Playing with her clit ring, she began a slow grind on his jutted-out tongue. In seconds she was ready. Lifting up a couple of inches, she massaged her hooded pink pearl until it swelled and hardened. “Now, baby,” she forewarned him as she contracted her pelvic muscles, milking her sweet juice into his opened mouth. “Tell me you love it.”

Swallowing her creamy sap, Robert reacted quickly. “You know I love it,” he answered, pulling her body to his, then rolling over on top of her.

“Is that all you love?” Flame asked, spreading her legs and opening her caramelized coochie lips.

Robert stroked his dick until his veins bulged. Heavily, he breathed into her ear, and slapped her thigh with his hardness. “You know I love you, Flame,” he said, finally thrusting inside her, and pumping away as if he were really doing some damage.

I ain’t doin’ this shit no more. Fuckin’ Power. See what you made me do?

“Jeezus, Mary, and Jos—umpf! This is the best cunt I’ve ever had,” he roared and panted.

“Yeah, baby. Work this shit out!”
And hurry the fuck up and raise up off me.

“For the love of—oh, Flame.” Roberts’s body shook, a forewarning of his squirting off.

Nah, for the love of my man, my family, and my money, mu’fucka. I’m only doin’ this cuz I gotta.

                  •                  •                  •

Power sat at the bar sipping on Henny and Coke. He’d been fuckin’ with Kirsten all day, and knew he was driving her crazy. Bourgeoisie bitches like her had always fallen for him. He didn’t know if it was his swagger or his game that had attracted them, but he’d bet long dough that his big, black dick had everything to do with it. The white women he’d known had always swooned for the stereotype, and she was no exception. Especially because he’d fit the “black-man-is-packin’” bill like a mutha.

Running his thumb over the scar on his right cheek where a nigga on Riker’s had blew him with a razor, he licked his Cool J lips and checked the time on the Presidential she’d blessed him with. He gritted his teeth. His boy Whiz was late coming through. And now was not the time for him to be rolling on CP time. He was already a day late, he’d be damned if he came up a dollar short too. If he did, it’d be his boy’s ass. Everything he had was riding on Whiz’s call, and he was tired of waiting.

“Ay, when your boy gettin’ home?” Power asked gruffly, swishing his drink.

Kirsten smiled. “I told you, not for hours. He’ll be in meetings all day, like always. Why?” she asked, tossing her long, strawberry-blond hair. “You feel like playing?”

Power shook his head. “Nah, I look like a mu’fuckin’ child to you? I don’t
play
shit.” He licked his lips again, then winked. “But I wanna watch you play.”

Kirsten stepped out of her Blahniks, began tugging at her skirt as she walked toward him with a sinister grin plastered on her freckled face.

Power chuckled. Before he could say jump, Kirsten’s feet were off the ground. It’d been less than a month, and she thought she knew him. Her assuming he’d wanted to bang her irked him because it was true, but he had to switch gears. Surprise the ho when she wasn’t looking. “Put yo shit on, baby. We gettin’ ready to roll out.”

“Where are we—”

Power held up his hand, freezing her grill. “Kirsten, what I tell you ’bout that whiny white-girl shit? If ya wanna hang with a nigga, you gots to blacken up, Ma. Learn to stop askin’ so many questions. In the hood it’s all good. When we roll, we mu’fuckin’ roll, baby. No questions asked. Now let’s go see how much you really love a nigga,” he said, putting his pimp game down and snatching her car keys.

Power smiled when he saw discomfort sprawl across Kirsten’s face as he whipped her candy-apple Benz through Park Slope and crossed over Flatbush Avenue, zigged to Lafayette, through Carlton, and finally hung a turn on Dekalb, headed toward Marcy Projects. Bustin’ a U, he sped into a parking lot, and jumped out, then snatched up Kirsten and ushered her into Slim Goodies’s Pawn Shop.

Getting buzzed into the secured door, Power nodded what’s up to the man working the shop behind bulletproof glass, then stopped in front of another door. A secret knock later, and he was guiding Kirsten past an armed guard and into Slim’s Pussy Palace, a whorehouse and gentlemen’s club tucked in the basement of the pawnshop. Music blared, and body heat filled the air as they walked past the bar, the stage where an entourage of naked hoes flung coochie and participated in orgies, then took their seats at a table in the rear.

“What’s good, man? I ain’t seent you in a good minute.” Slim carried his four-hundred-plus rolls of heft Power’s way and gave him a pound.

“Can’t call it. You tell me what’s really,
really
good, man,” Power said, already knowing the answer.

“Long as sugar is sweet, Goody is good,” Slim answered his usual. All his top-notch hoes were named Goody. “Delicious as a mu’fucka, bring in twice mo’ change than the rest of these broads. Wanna sample?”

“Come on, Slim. Ya know a nigga don’t turn down nothin’ free ’cept his collar.”

Kirsten looked from one man to the other, confusion etched on her face. A telltale sign that she was at a loss on the lingo.

“It’s good, Ma,” Power assured her, patting her leg.

“Are you sure?” she asked with a shaky voice.

“Am I
black
?” Power laughed, then cut it short when a thick sista sporting a phat-ass booty, firm ta-tas, blue scarf that he was sure she rode while performing onstage, and a dental floss G-string sauntered their way.

“Heard y’all wanna sample my goodies,” Goody purred, straddling Power without waiting on an answer.

“Wait a minute,” Kirsten began to protest.

Power smacked Goody on the ass, then pointed at Kirsten. “Give her a taste.”

Goody hopped from his lap to Kirsten’s, ignoring Kirsten’s apparent discomfort.

“You said you loved a nigga,” Power reminded, rubbing Kirsten’s shoulders, then working his way down to her titties, fondling them and pinching her almost hard nipples through her flimsy white blouse. “Show me how much.”

He knew he had her when she closed her eyes, melting to his touch and Goody grinding on her lap. Taking Goody’s scarf from around her shoulders, he blindfolded Kirsten, then pulled her to her feet. “Follow me, Ma. I forgot to thank you for the Rolie.”

Goody’s room was as pink and sweet as the sugar walls that would be bumping in it, Power thought as he handed Kirsten over to Goody. With fluid motions, Goody slowly undressed the snow bunny, revealing erect pink nipples and a blond snatch.