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Authors: De'nesha Diamond

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BOOK: Hustlin' Divas
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I smiled with relief.

“Take that shit off,” he ordered, and then moved over to his cluttered bed to watch me.

I never moved so fast in my life. My midriff T-shirt flew over my head, followed by my one and only Victoria's Secret push-up bra. Python stroked his dick and watched the rushed striptease with hungry eyes. When I was finished, he took his time studying my young body.

“Anybody ever eat you out before?”

The question completely embarrassed me.

“Never mind, you ain't even gotta answer that.” He chuckled. “Come over here. I want you to sit on my face.” With one sweep of his arm, he knocked a lot of shit off the bed and onto the floor.

This was it. I took a deep breath and waltzed over to the bed. But then something wiggling caught my attention and I jumped. “What's that?” My eyes landed on an aquarium next to the bed.

“Those are my babies, Beauty and Beast. They're ball pythons,” he said, and then reached for my hand. “I'll let you play with them later. Right now, I wanna taste some of this fresh pussy.” He fingered the soft curls between my legs. “Now climb on up here.”

I looked down at him lying on the bed and started getting nervous again.

“Matter of fact, since you know how to give head, just turn around and we can do a sixty-nine.”

Good thing Shariffa and I had snuck and watched a few of her father's pornos so that I knew what the fuck he was talking about. I climbed up onto the bed like I was mounting a Clydesdale—he was just that massive. But in no time, I had my pussy hovering above his face. When I picked up his heavy dick, I was scared I was going to choke on the muthafucka. The head was the fattest I'd ever seen.

“You gonna play with it or suck it?” Python asked.

I forced myself to stop thinking and just started feeling. It helped when he parted my young pussy lips and plunged his tongue so deep it may as well have been like a second dick.

“Ooooh.”

“I thought you might like that shit.”

His tongue plunged back in and completely unglued my world. Wanting to return the favor, I deep-throated his big dick. Before I knew it, I was lost in a new world. I rocked on his tongue while gagging and slobbering on his dick at the same time. I lost count of how many times I came, but I stayed on my job until he blasted off and coated my throat with his sour candy. After that, he pulled me off and then rolled me underneath him. He surprised me when he started kissing so that we could share each other's taste. His sour with my sweet.

My toes curled and his dick got hard again in no time. The next time he spread my legs open, I knew that I was just seconds from becoming a woman. I pulled back to ask, “You got a condom?”

He frowned. “Nah. I gotta feel what I'm getting into, Ma. And this some new shit, too. I'm taking it raw.”

I stared at him.

“Don't worry, baby. I'm clean.” He kissed me for reassurance. “I wouldn't fuck you up like that—especially since you letting a nigga be the first.” The head of his cock pressed against my pussy.

“I don't want to get pregnant,” I say meekly.

“Why not? You said you love me. If you love me, then you can carry my seed.”

I didn't know about that shit.

“What? Don't you think I'd take care of you and my seed?” He inched in a little farther. “You might as well have my baby, because once I get in this pussy, the shit is mine. You won't be giving my shit to nobody else.” Python locked gazes with me. “You hear me? If I ever hear word fuckin' one about you smashing some other nigga, then it ain't going to be nothing nice. You feel me?”

I couldn't help but smile. Being Python's woman was all I'd ever dreamed about for the last three years. “I feel you.”

“Good.” He reached down and spread my legs so wide I thought his ass was tryna make a wish. “Here we go.”

Before I could suck in a breath, Python surged forward with one powerful thrust. My eyes bulged as I gasped in shock. I knew it was supposed to hurt, but not like this. Punching at his chest, I tried to get him to stop. I'd changed my mind. I didn't want to do this anymore.

He ignored me and kept a steady, deep stroke going. “Shhhh,” he whispered against my ear. “Relax, baby girl. It's going to feel good in just a second. I promise.” He kissed my temple and kept stroking.

Tears leaked from my eyes. I didn't believe him, but I welcomed the small kisses he planted down the column of my neck and across my collarbone. Slowly but surely, the pain between my legs eased and pleasure like I've never known bloomed like a flower. Next, I was grabbing and squeezing his thick ass cheeks while he sent my mind to the fuckin' moon. It felt better than good—it felt like heaven. My first time couldn't have been more perfect…and nine months later, I delivered a healthy nine-pound baby.

So did two other chicks.

 

My single-family ranch home sits in the middle of a thirty-year-old subdivision in the Walnut Grove section of Memphis. I inherited the place from my maternal grandmother around the same time I'd completed the police academy. It's also nestled right between Gangster Disciple and the Vice Lords territory—a helluva place for a police officer to live, as my father keeps reminding me. But I've always liked living on the edge—just like I've always been attracted to dangerous men.

After parking my car in the garage, I enter the house through the side door and throw my keys onto the kitchen table. I'm exhausted. No doubt a shower and a twelve-hour coma would do my body good. First, I stop off at the refrigerator and grab a cold beer.

A sound catches my ear.

My hand automatically goes to my holstered weapon as I set my beer down and start a slow creep through the house. Lord knows it wouldn't be the first time some dumb punk has tried to burglarize my place. As I move through the house, I'm certain the noise is coming from my bedroom. Quietly, I place my hand on the doorknob and push open the door.

No one is in the bedroom—but there's definitely someone in the adjoining bathroom. I smile as I return my gun to my holster. Walking over to the bed, I remove my belt and kick off my shoes. When I reach the bathroom door, there he is: my afternoon delight. I chuckle under my breath and fold my arms as I take my time drinking in Python's muscled frame through the shower's glass door. There isn't an inch on him that I haven't committed to memory, and there isn't a position he can bend or twist me into that I haven't enjoyed over the years.

“Are you just going to stand there all day, or are you going to get your ass in here and wash a nigga's back?”

“What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like? I'm taking a shower.”

I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean. What if my man came home with me?”

“What fuckin' man is this?” Python stops washing his large chest to stare me down. “I know you ain't giving my pussy to nobody else.”

“Are you fuckin' serious?” I ask incredulously. “I hardly fuckin' see your ass anymore. You're too damn busy with your head up those silly Queen Gs' twats to give me the muthafuckin' time of day.”

Python opens the glass door and pulls me inside. “Why the fuck are you giving me a hard time, girl?”

I squeal. “My uniform!”

“Like I give a fuck about this pig uniform.” Python rips open my shirt. “Who the fuck you giving my pussy to?” He tosses the drenched shirt over the top of the glass door and then attacks the button on my pants. “You better tell me that you're fuckin' joking, 'cause I ain't had any of this good shit in a hot minute.” He pulls me closer and smothers my full lips with a passionate kiss. I really get wet sucking on his sexy forked tongue and remembering what that muthafucka feels like drumming on my pussy.

Every fiber of my being tells me to fight this shit, but when it comes to Python, for some reason I just can't do it. He's always had a way of making my body feel things it shouldn't. The nigga has a string of women, and yet he always expects my ass to just sit on the sidelines, waiting with my legs crossed until whenever he feels like rolling through to hit me off.

In truth, I wasn't playing. I have my own sideline situation going on, but what Python doesn't know isn't going to hurt him. Niggas always think they're the only ones who know how to creep. Silly rabbits, tricks are for kids.

Right now, I'm just going with the flow, too thrilled that his ass has finally decided to drop in after a long absence. In our ever-changing relationship, the older we get, the harder it is to hold on. As much as I still loved his ass, it fucked with me on the daily that his dick was like a GPS—always on the creep for new pussy. Nowadays, niggas can't spell
faithful
let alone try to be faithful to no one chick. So at the end of the day, I'm no different than all these other baby mommas. I just carry a muthafuckin' badge.

My son, Christopher, now has so many brothers and sisters that I've lost count. When I found out about the other two women when I was pregnant, I broke up with Python for three years, in which time I graduated from school and then joined the police academy.

Some time after that, I'd pulled Python over for a routine stop, but instead of handing him a ticket, I turned up my ass and let him hit it from behind on the side of the road. My three-year celibacy streak was over with a snap, and then we pretty much been together off and on ever since.

We slosh around in the shower until Python manages to get all my clothes off; then he leans me up against the white tile and bounces me on that juicy dick. His shit is so good I get religious and start talking in tongues.

Python fists my hair and slams into me so hard that the wall of my pussy starts caving in. “You been giving other niggas my pussy?”

“No. N-never,” I lie, and rotate my hips so that he's hitting my G-spot from the front
and
the back.

“This shit is always going to be mine.” He reaches around and fingers my clit just how I like it. “You hear me, baby?”

“Yes, baby.” I squeeze my nipples and then prepare to blast off. A couple more deep strokes and that's just what the fuck happens. I call the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost while my orgasms just keep coming. We go from the shower to the bed and then onto the floor. Python always knows how to fine-tune my body just right. I hate it because he's no good for me. Never has been, never will be. But neither my head nor my pussy wants to hear that shit.

When we're both sated and lying in each other's arms, Python lazily peppers the top of my head with kisses. “About last night,” he starts. “Thanks for coming through for your nigga. I love you for that shit, yo.”

I tilt my chin up. “Why don't you get out of the street game?”

“Why don't you quit being a cop?”

And here we are, back to the same old stalemate.

“I would've married you, you know,” he tosses out there.

I roll my eyes. “Sure you would've.”

“I still might one day,” he adds, rolling me over and sinking his fingers in between the silky folds of my pussy. “In this crazy world, anything can happen.” He plops one of my hard nipples into his mouth and starts sucking.

I know that he's just gassing me up, but my heart falls for his bullshit each and every time. Just like it's doing right now.

20
Yolanda

December…

F
or three months, I've been sliding down poles, contorting my body in every way imaginable and booty clapping my way into the hearts and minds of every nigga who walks through the door of the Pink Monkey. But Baby was right—bitches aren't stacking no eight hundred dollars a night. On the weekends I might make half that much, but that is a serious might. The only way some of those cheap bastards can make it rain up in here is by tossing they Laundromat quarters onto the stage, but that's Memphis niggas for you. They always want a whole lot of something for nothing. A couple of times, a few niggas who remember me from back in the day have tossed mini-packets of Lemonheads onto the stage, but I just ignore their ignorant asses because they still the ones up in here begging for some damn pussy.

Now,
Baby
knows how to make it storm. There's no shame to her game when she rolls through the club with a fat-ass knot, smoking her la and sippin' on rum and Coke. Once the other dancers peep out how much Baby tosses on the stage, they focus their attention on her. Niggas are pissed every time they see her step through the door, but they sure as fuck don't say shit to her crazy ass. My girl is like my own personal cheerleading squad. At home, Baby helps me create and coordinate my routines. Now I look like I was born doing this shit.

But at least I'm having fun—more than I anticipated. I'm loving the attention I'm getting from men. Nothing gets me off more than watching how these niggas' dicks bust out of their pants like the Incredible Hulk whenever I'm grinding on they laps. As usual, bitches are hating on me, but I'm starting to listen to Baby.

“Bitches hate. That's what the fuck they do,” Baby told me over and over again.

The more I look around, the more I find that shit to be true. However, I still want to move up in the Queen Gs. If bitches are going to hate, then hate me while I'm on top. You feel me?

At the Pink Monkey there are always chief enforcers, assistant overseers, and governors who drift through. The girls are expected to service them, pay or no pay, in the VIP room with no questions asked. That shit isn't right because niggas be trying to raw dog it and rip the lining out of a bitch's pussy.

I complained to Baby, but her answer was just a simple “Quit.” I should've known better. Baby didn't care too much for a bunch of whining and complaining. “Don't talk about it. Be about it.”

So I stopped talking about it, until Desire raced back into the dressing room.

“Yo-Yo, move your ass! You're wanted in the VIP room.”

“Fuck that shit. My shift is over,” I say, grabbing my bag.

Desire shuffles over to her vanity table. “It ain't a request. Python sent for you.”

I freeze and cut eyes over at this bitch. She ain't fooling nobody. I know she can't stand my ass. “You shittin' me?”

“Bitch, I ain't got no time to be playing games with you. Python ordered you back there, and you can be a dumb bitch and not go if you wanna, but then I suggest you don't bring your ass back here thinking you still got a job.”

Now that I know she's for real, I grab my favorite gold metallic thong and two gold pasties with hanging tassels, slick my body down with some baby oil, and then shove my feet into a pair of matching six-inch heels.

“You're really going back there?” Baby asks, watching me check myself out in the mirror.

“Of course I am. You know when I lock one of these big hustlers down, I'ma be able to upgrade and have a father figure for my babies when they come home.”


If
they come home.”

“C'mon, now, Baby. Don't be like that. You know what the game plan is.”

Baby frowns. “Your momma dropped you on your head when you were a child. You know that, right?”

I roll my eyes. “Ha-ha. It's going to happen, and when it does, I'm going to dance around and sing ‘I told you so!'”

“Whatever, bitch.” Baby strokes her imaginary dick.

Satisfied that I'm ready, I flash Baby a smile. “Wish me luck.”

“No,” Baby says in a flat voice. “I'll do no such thing.”

I shrug off Baby's disapproval and hurry out to the VIP room. But Python isn't the only one waiting for me. It was him, a nigga named Tyga, and McGriff. I didn't have to be Einstein to know that I'm the entertainment for an important meeting. For a second, I'm power struck, wondering who I should dance for first when the decision is made for me.

“Damn, girl,” McGriff says, turning his attention from Python. “Don't just stand there. Get over here and give me a sample of that mean head game niggas been bragging about.” He unzips his fly and surprises me with a dick that has to be the same size as a school ruler.

Fat too.

No wonder his girl, Kookie, be walking bowlegged.

Three sets of eyes shift to me, waiting to see what I'm gone do. It's the audition of a lifetime. I put on my biggest smile and wind my hips. I move closer to the table and then kneel down and suck his shit into my mouth like my middle name is Hoover.

“Fuck!” McGriff says, sliding his hand down my blond braids. “They weren't lying about your ass.” He cocks his head and watches as my full lips suck and slobber all over his peanut butter–colored dick.

Tyga reaches down into his pants and pulls out his dick. What he lacks in length he makes up for in width. His shit is so fat it looks like a mini tree trunk while he strokes himself during my performance. “So whatcha thinking, Python?” Tyga asks, returning to business. “You think that grimy nigga Fat Ace is dead or what?”

Python shrugs and reaches for his beer. “Fuck if I know. Ain't nobody seen his ass since we put a couple of bullets in him that night at the hospital.”

“Nah. That nigga ain't dead,” McGriff chimes in, thrusting his hips and hitting my tonsils' bull's-eye. “We would've heard something by now. I'm—Whoa!” He leans his head back as I take his dick all the way to the balls, hold still, and squeeze my throat muscles. “Goddamn, bitch. Shit!”

I gag and choke while tears pour down my face, but I hold firm.

“FUUUUCK!” McGriff blasts off and my throat releases its grip so that I can gulp down his salty babies with a smile. “Whoo!” He looks over at Python. “You better hold on to this one. Bitch, where you learn to suck dick like that?”

I shrug. “My stepdaddy.”

The niggas' faces twist, but then McGriff laughs. “Well, fuck. He did a great job.”

“Will you focus, nigga?” Python says, irritated. “I don't like all this hide-and-seek bullshit with Fat Ace. The muthafucka appears and disappears like a ghost. That shit ain't sitting right with me.”

“C'mon over here,” Tyga says, reaching for me and jamming my head down onto his cock. “Don't worry about that big nigga, Python. We'll find him again.”

“What about this brother, Profit?” Python asks. “Y'all still watching his ass?”

“Got him covered like Allstate,” McGriff says, leaning forward to pull on my thong and take a peek at my ass while I'm bobbing on Tyga's cock. “But for real I think that nigga Profit is a square. The soldiers we got on him say that the muthafucka ain't in the game. He just goes to school and creeps around with his girlfriend.”

“I don't give a fuck if he's in the game or not. He's collateral.”

“So what you sayin'?” McGriff slides a finger into my pussy. “You want us to wet this dude up?”

Python sips on his beer and watches as McGriff slips another finger into my dripping pussy. He looks like he's in a trance before he finally answers, “I don't know. Let me think on it a little while. Who's his girlfriend?”

“Some chick out in midtown. We know the address. I can get you a name if you want it.”

“See that you do.” He catches the waitress's eye and signals for another beer.

Tyga starts sweating and squirming in his chair. “Sheeiiit.”

“She gettin' it, ain't she?” McGriff laughs and gets up. “Stand up, baby.”

I stand but remain stooped over with my mouth locked around Tyga's cock. I'm determined to suck this muthafucka's white taffy out before I give McGriff any more attention.

“I hope this pussy is as good as that fuckin' mouth of yours,” McGriff says, spreading my ass cheeks and hawking a wad of spit at the back of my pussy for extra lube. Next, he straps on a magnum condom. I'm relieved he's not going to raw dog it. Before he enters me from behind, he leans down and places a kiss on my perfectly round ass. “Python, you sure you don't want to hit none of this?”

“Nah, nigga. Handle your bidness.”

“Whateva, man. Pussy is pussy.” McGriff holds on to my waist and slowly slides the head of his cock in between the walls of my creaming pussy. “Aww. Fuck yeah. You gotta keep this bitch around, Python.”

“No doubt,” Tyga cosigns.

“Glad you're enjoying her.” Python smirks and accepts his second beer when the waitress returns. “What about that other shit? You checked out that nigga from up north? Is his shit legit?”

“Ooh.” Tyga's eyes roll for a brief second before he answers the question. “Yeah. That nigga, Dmitry, is cool. I've talked to a coupla niggas in Brooklyn who fuck with him. Nigga always comes through.”

Python's eyes flash with irritation. He probably doesn't like Tyga tossing around names in front of mixed company. “So you're vouching for this nigga?”

“P-put my name on it. Fuck, this bitch is gonna make me fall in love.” Tyga grabs hold of my head and holds me down to gag and slobber all over his shit as he blasts a couple of ounces down my throat. My mouth finally springs off Tyga's dick when McGriff sinks his long cock inside me from the back. I can feel the muthafucka all the way up in my chest.

“I know that you're loving this shit,” McGriff brags, rotating his hips and beating up my walls.

I glance back over my shoulder. “Give me all you got.” I slam my ass down harder on his shaft.

Python's brows lift with renewed interest.
Ah. He's an ass man.
I got his fuckin' number now. Python has seen his boy with other women in the VIP before, but none of them could take in more than just half his nigga's size. Now my big booty ass is backing all the way to the balls. I know they are all impressed.

A medieval grin covers McGriff's face as he takes my sassiness as a challenge. In the next second, he slings his dick so hard that I'm sure he's splitting me in half, but I continue to moan and throw my ass back like a cock addict. When I'm close to passing out, Tyga gets back into the mix. They toss me around like a rag doll. At one point, I have my leg locked around McGriff's waist while he digs out my pussy and Tyga's thick cock rams my tight asshole.

“Goddamn, you can take it all, can't you, you nasty bitch?” McGriff growls while he and Tyga bounce me up and down. “Your stepdaddy teach you this shit, too?”

At the table, Python watches the show while lazily rubbing his meat. I'm giving his boys just as much as I'm getting. I just want him to know that my little show is all for him. At every chance I can get, I lock gazes with him while one or both of his boys are beating my shit up. I'd welcome a full-out train if it meant I can get in good with Python. When he takes a woman, he brands her as his and then declares her off limits. Seeing how I get down, he has to be thinking I have potential.

Tyga roars and whips his cock out.

Python's black gaze zeroes in on the thick cum dripping out of my beautiful, golden ass. Yeah, it's just a matter of time before I'm doing a private show just for him, and he crowns
me
as the leader of the Queen Gs.

BOOK: Hustlin' Divas
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