His Truth Your Nightmare

Truth & Legend

A Ride or Die Love Story

Mesha Mesh

See, a lady doesn’t drink, she sips, and
that’s exactly what I was doing while I was watching this fine
specimen of a man in front of me. He has the darkest milk chocolate
skin that I have ever seen in my life, with waves so deep that you
need a scuba diving outfit on just to comb through. He stands at
least six-feet-five inches tall with arms the size of bowling
balls. His shoulders are so broad and stout that I could see my
small hands rubbing up and down on them, giving him one of my
famous massages. The way that he is rocking his red True Religion
shirt and the slight sag of his True Religion jeans got my cookie
on fire. On his feet he is sporting a pair of red Valentines
Jordan’s which set his fit off to the max.

When I say his swag is on one million I mean
that and at this moment my juices are flowing by just looking at
him. Too bad it’s only a matter of time before he becomes another
notch on my belt, another space on my resume, another face on a
shirt, another statistic to come from this dirty game. I hadn’t had
sex in a year and a half and he just may get it before I put him
out of his misery.

He was staring at me just as I was staring at
him so I uncrossed my legs, and then crossed them in the opposite
direction so that I can give him a glimpse of this clean shaven
chocolate pussy. I stuck my tongue out slowly yet seductively and
licked the salt and sugar mix that is on the rim of my glass while
giving him the sexiest bedroom eyes that I could muster. I knew he
was falling for the bait since no man can seem to resist my
advances. You see, in the hood where I grew up I am considered a
dime, a bad bitch, or a diva but I didn’t consider myself any of
that. I am not any of those labels or names that these men give to
women now a days.

Who I am is Trutice Wallace aka Truth;
twenty-five year old bombshell from Dallas. What I am is one of the
most deadly but beautiful woman that you would ever know! I stand
at five-feet-four, one hundred and forty-five pounds of pure
sexiness. I am the color of mocha chocolate with a butt so round
and breasts so perky that a man instantly gets a brick hard dick
and his eyes pop out of his head when I enter a room. They say I
favor Janelle Monae but I say she favors me. My mother blessed me
with her hazel eyes and my pops blessed me with my jet black wavy
hair that men and women alike seemed to love.

“I’m going to get me some of what he has to
offer tonight!” I whispered to myself.

I sat and watched my victim a little while
longer until my song came on. I got up from my seat at the bar and
headed to the dancefloor. Showtime! The beginning of “Body Party”
by Ciara started and I slowly swayed my hips in a circle. I looked
him straight in the eyes, licked my lips, bent over and shook my
butt. There was no need to shake it hard because little effort
would make it wobble uncontrollably. I stood back upright and put
my hands on my head then started making my bell roll like a snake
while going down to the floor in rhythm to the beat. When I got in
the squatting position I sat still and made my butt pop each time
that the base dropped. My cheeks were clapping so hard that you
could hear the sound effects across the dance floor. I wound my way
back up slowly while touching my legs, inner thigh, stomach, then
breast and mouthing the words to him.

“You can't keep your hands off me, touch me
right there, rock my body

I can't keep my hands off you; your body is
my party

I'm doing this little dance for you

You got me so excited

Now it's just me and you

Your body's my party, let's get it
started

Boy you should know that your love is always
on my mind

I'm not gonna fight it, I want it all the
time

Boy you should know that your love is always
on my mind

And I can't deny it, I want you, I want
you”

He started readjusting the front of his pants
and shifting in his seat like he was fighting with himself. I knew
he wanted to come over but he was trying to play hard. I started
counting down from ten because I knew it wouldn’t be long before he
lost the battle with his inner self. I placed a smirk on my face
and snickered on the inside when Dollar stood up, fixed his pants
and patted his shirt down so that he could make his way over to
me.

His walk was very cocky yet confident and oh
so sexy with those bow legs. I was pleased with myself because I
reeled him in quicker than I thought I would. I turned my back to
him so he could get a good look at my backside then made my cheeks
jump one at a time to keep teasing him.

He pushed his way through the crowd and
stopped when he got directly behind me and watched my show for a
little longer. When it became too much for him to watch he grabbed
me around waist and pulled me into his hard chest. He positioned my
butt directly on his stiff wood and my pussy jumped from
excitement. He had me right where he wanted me to be then wrapped
his arms around my waist to hold on to me as if we were in a loving
relationship. I was grinding into his crouch, getting hornier and
hornier and he was feeling hella good to me.

Then he bent down, sniffed my neck and spoke,
“Hey sexy lady, can you do that dance on a dick like you’re out
here doing it on this floor?”

It was as if the music stopped playing and I
immediately stopped dancing when I smelled the foul stench of his
breath. It was a mixture of feces, alcohol, and a month old shitty
diaper that was left in the hot sun. I am so appalled! How dare he
bring his grown ass over here and not check his breath beforehand!
I know his boys smelled that halitosis in that booth! Now I am
pissed and my purring kitty dried up in less than two point five
seconds. I wanted to kill him right then and there but this is a
job and I know I can’t be that messy. One stupid mistake could cost
me my money and my freedom and I’m not having that.

So much for having sex tonight; pitiful,
pitiful me. I looked at him while I reached my hand into my
pocketbook to produce a piece of double mint gum. I handed it to
him, told him to chew and then advised him to try again. My skin
crawled and I wanted to claw his face as I stood there waiting on
him to get his breathe together. My temper would have gotten the
best of me if I didn’t have self-control over my actions. Those
anger management classes have paid off because he wouldn’t have had
a chance in hell and me not slitting his throat, it wouldn’t have
been possible right now if I didn’t attend them.

I stood there just watching and getting
angrier by the second with the way he was slowly opening the gum as
if he thought I was joking. My blood has boiled over and I mean I
am piping hot. At that moment I’m thinking of different ways I
could torture him. He deserves to have a slow and very painful
death for taking me through this horrid situation.

I had to ease my mind and find a little humor
in the situation to calm myself down. It was definitely funny how
his eyes showed embarrassment and his demeanor slightly changed as
he chewed the gum while watching me. His confidence was slowly
dwindling with ever chomp of his teeth. He shifted his eyes from
mine and slightly lowered his head. Yea you should be embarrassed
bastard. Once he figured that he had chewed the gum enough to kill
the odor, he repeated the question again with the same cockiness as
before.

“Can you ride this dick they way you rode the
beat of that song?”

I had to remind myself that this was for the
money because under different circumstance I would have walked off
and that would have been the end of this discussion. The gum helped
a little bit but it did not fully mask the stench of his breath. I
wanted to shove the whole pack down his throat but decided against
it. I will just have to hold my breath when he speaks to keep from
throwing up on him. My eyes watered and my stomach felt queasy from
the stench of his breath and the small amount of alcohol that I
consumed. Vomit was trying to come up but I still managed to push
that to the side.

I pulled him by the shirt down to my size
then whispered in his ear, “I can show you better than I can tell
you so if you would like we can make this a private show.”

With that said he grabbed my hand, turned
around and headed back towards VIP where his goons were. There’s no
way that I would have ever thought one of the biggest dope boys in
Dallas would have such a potty mouth. In my line of business, I
have seen all kinds of interesting things to where nothing should
surprise me anymore but this takes the cake. Never in all of the
years that I have been around boss niggas, have I ever smelled a
boss’s breath in the club. They are usually very well kept in the
hygiene area and are cautious of this type of thing since women are
constantly in their faces.

The streets call this funk box Dollar Bill
and he is from a part of Dallas called Oak Cliff. Oak Cliff is huge
and is broken up into different hoods. Dollar grew up around a part
of the Cliffs called College Park and that’s where he began his
hustle. He started out moving nickel bags of that straight drop for
a has-been who started smoking his own supply named Donk.

Donk was known for his love of fly whips and
whipping skills in the kitchen but I guess the whip started to
smell good to him and began calling his name. Dollar got wind of
what he was doing from one of the corner boys and started plotting
his come up. It wasn’t long before Donk started to fall off of his
game. He started to become sloppy and led Dollar straight to his
hideout. Dollar went by the spot one day and went into the
stash.

Donk was down to his last and Dollar planned
to take it all. Dollar couldn’t imagine himself going broke again
so he loaded up everything he saw. As soon as Dollar placed the bag
on his shoulder and prepared to walk out Donk walked in. Dollar
immediately sprang into action when he saw Donk. He shot him
several times and beat him damn near to death then left him right
in the door of his spot to be found.

From that one brick that he took from Donk he
came up. He stood on the corner day and night by himself flipping
and flipping the brick not spending a dime. His dope boy career
took off in the game in a matter of months. Now Dollar is thirty
years old and felt that he was a kingpin in his own right. He
doesn’t give a damn about anyone and is known for being super
greedy. What he fails to realize is his whole team is supposed to
eat like he is eating but he crumbs the very people that he wants
to be loyal to him.

Dollar is getting money hand over fist in
these streets but he can’t seem to keep it because he spends the
majority of it on different women trying to please them. He got
traps all over Oak Cliff, Cedar Hill and even in Lancaster but his
tricking bill and bad spending habits won’t allow him to stack his
money the way it should have been stacked. Shaking my head, these
dummies never learn.

Once we reached VIP he spoke to his partner
in crime, whose name is Perion, to tell him that he was leaving
with me. Perion glanced in my direction with flirtatious eyes then
nodded his head in my direction. I smiled, blew him a kiss and
nodded my head back in recognition. The two dapped each other up;
Dollar turned around to face me, snatched my hand and hurriedly
pulled me towards the exit as if he thought that I would change my
mind. All I could think about is how I couldn’t wait to get this
over with so that I can get away from him and his funk box.

He pulled me closer to him then lugged me
along like I was a ragdoll. His feet moved at full speed almost as
if he was running once we reached the outside of the clubs doors.
He cautiously looked over both shoulders, to the left, then the
right and straight ahead several times as we walked across the
parking lot. It was kind of funny to see him constantly looking
around like he was paranoid about something or someone. If he only
knew what I know then he would be way more than just paranoid.
Dollar really doesn’t even know how short his life span has become
since he grabbed the grim reaper herself off of the dancefloor.

When we reached his car I must admit that the
smoke gray 2015 Mercedes S550 that he has is very nice. I love
Benz’s and this one here I can see in my garage. He had some
twenty-four inch Asanti’s with Michelin Pax tires on the feet of
the Benz. That’s country shit for you but it was nice, I can’t lie.
Why the dope boys’ mess up the beauty of their expensive vehicles
by adding all the extra, I will never understand but it looked
awesome. Dollar unlocked the doors then helped me get into the car
like a true gentleman.

The inside of the Benz smells of Kush and
cologne and the interior is decked with peanut butter leather seats
that you just melt in when you sit down. The cushion of the seats
wrapped around my body like a glove so I let the seat back a little
to get comfortable.