Sex in the Hood Saga (27 page)

“Kiss my pussy,” Honey whispered as she raised it up to her face. Duchess' parted lips pressed into the fat flesh. It tasted sweet, like orange juice. She opened her jaws wide, slurped all over it.

Honey moaned but then pulled away, aiming her swollen clit straight toward Duchess' wet pussy.

Near the door, about twenty feet from Victoria and Honey, Milan was lying on her back, on a floor mat. She had a mouth full of Lee Lee's pussy meat. The head female B'Amazon soldier was straddling Milan's face, grinding her pussy around her mouth.

“That bitch is getting turned out,” Milan said as she drilled her fingers up into Lee Lee's hole and licked at the silver ball piercing her clit. “But now we know she's got a big weakness. She likes Honey.”

Lee Lee moaned. “We all love Honey.”

“I love money more,” Milan said, reaching down to rub her own hungry, aching stuff. Finally, the nausea had subsided, but her horniness had not. “I love Duke, too, and that white bitch is not about to take what's mine. This whole supervision thing is only temporary, until Duke sees the error of his ways and puts me in my proper place.”

“Shut up and eat my pussy,” Lee Lee ordered.

“You know better 'n anybody,” Milan said. “Duke and I have been together since we were in diapers. He and Babylon are mine.”

“You a crazy bitch.”

“A damn good crazy bitch. And I am going to do whatever I have to do to keep what's already mine and that's Duke and Babylon.” Lee Lee pressed her knees into Milan's ears. “I'll squeeze if you don't shut up and lick, bitch.”

Milan laughed. Lee Lee loosened her knees.

“That's right. Suck it like that. The secret walls o' my pussy are the only place you need to talk like that. If Duke hears that shit, you're gonna have a boot in that pretty ass o' yours before it lands on the street. Without your kids.”

“Beamer and I have a plan, but Duke can't know,” Milan said, using her fingers to rub her own clit. “You'll be addressing me as Duchess in a minute.”

“Zip it, girl. I do not want to be an accessory to the suicidal shit you rattlin' off into my pussy. Then again, you wouldn't be under supervision if you was actin' right. You already in trouble.” Lee Lee muzzled Milan with her pussy by grinding hard. Trembling, the sexercise coach tossed her head back, moaned, and opened her eyes.

“Duke!”

Milan's teeth clamped around Lee Lee's clit. Lee Lee shot up. “Stupid bitch! Don't bite my meat like you a pit bull!”

Milan went numb. She just signed her death warrant in pussy juice. A rigor mortis stiffness froze her every cell.

“Duke, baby,” Milan called up, her lips wet with hoochie cream. “Finally we get to talk.”

He stared down with a stiff face, the same way he stared down a gangsta or 5-0 or anybody he didn't trust. But now, his eyes were laughing. At her. She could almost hear him thinking,
You stupid-ass skank ho, too ill in the head to keep a scheme quiet.

“Duke, you caught me under the influence of pussy. You know I lose my mind when I put my face up in it. I'm jus' dreamin'.”

Not a flicker of response showed in his eyes. She pressed a hand to her stomach to squeeze down a sudden heave.

“Duke,” she said with a nervous laugh. Her voice sounded high-pitched and weak.

He raised his eyes as if she suddenly turned invisible. He stroked his dick through his jeans and looked across the room at Honey and that girl.

Duke stepped away from Milan then stood over Duchess and her new favorite playmate. Chanel and India were playing Twister right beside them.

He stroked Timbo with lightning speed. His long fingers met the tip of his thumb to form a tube that moved up and down, up and down his legendary dick that he couldn't wait to slide up under the creamy ass of his Duchess. He blew hot air through his almost-smiling lips.
Look at my baby girl! Gettin' to know her inner freak!

That thong up her crack was spreading each round cheek.

He couldn't wait to take one in each hand and squeeze while he plunged this tree trunk up into that gushing canal. Right now, though, it looked like Honey was getting it in shape and keeping it warm.

Since she loved his dick, she was obviously becoming a fiend for pussy too.

He jacked his dick, watching Honey and Duchess intertwine their pretty legs. Chanel sashayed toward him in a black thong and bare titties. She pressed her back to him, rubbed the tip of his dick against her juicy ass then bent over.

This some o' the sexiest shit I ev'a seen in my life.
It was just a preview of a lifetime of new freaky-ass stuff every day.
Duchess gon' be through when she learn all the ways o' this world.

She would be through in a good way, unlike the bitch across the room, laying there like the corpse that she already was in her heart. Empty. Cold.

Milan was an evil back-stabber. Just like Brutus did Julius Caesar. He could put her out right now. But no, it wasn't like he trusted her before. She was always scheming. Now he just caught her in the act, so he had a plan to make her work even harder for him. She'd be so scared, she'd bend over and eat her own pussy if he told her to.

Right now, her punishment would be the whack thoughts she was having, worried about what Duke was going to do or not do. He could put her out like Sunnie, or keep her here, or transfer her to another place to work. Send her ass off to work for Moreno.

Damn, look how Honey an' Duchess kissin'. Her ponytail was down her back, her legs were spread, and that ass was grinding into the red mat. While that was going on, India and Chanel were grinding against him. They were both bent over in front of him, offering some double Dutch muffs. He shoved Timbo straight into two hot pussies he had been neglecting ever since he first saw Duchess on TV. He blasted two strokes up under India's beautiful blue-black booty then he plowed two strokes up under Chanel's gorgeous honey-colored ass.

“Ohhhhh, shit!” Chanel rolled her booty back, 'round and 'round to the beat of that nasty-ass music.

“Nothin' like Duke dick . . .” India moaned.

Duke put his hands on his hips, like he was bucking on a bull in a rodeo, loving his ride and loving the view of the other one on the floor. Honey was showing his Duchess the many dimensions of life at Babylon.

“Oh, fuck!” Duke groaned. Delicious waves of hot shivers washed through him. He felt like he could fuck all night.

He pulled out, spraying his nut like a fountain all over Duchess and Honey, like raindrops on the sexy seeds he was planting to grow the juiciest fruit ever.

Duchess hardly noticed Duke standing there because her spirit was dancing around the tangle of limbs that was herself and Honey. This was woman-power at its best.

The ultimate power source. If Celeste already had the power, then pressing her into another hot, hungry hooch, especially one as beautiful and clean as Honey's, could only make her stronger. If there were a fountain of youth, this was the fountain of woman-power. Add the extra mix-race potency that her grandmother spoke of, and Duchess would get anything she ever desired.

Right now, cumming with this beautiful nymph was all she wanted. She tilted her head back and cast a mellow smile up at Duke. He probably knew this would happen, and he no doubt would want to watch. It seemed like everything Duke did was strategized then orchestrated exactly to his vision.

“Make our bodies like an X,” Honey whispered, weaving one thigh under Duchess' and the other thigh over hers.

If a mouth on her pussy was pleasure paradise, then this was hedonistic heaven. The only thing better was Duke's big, black dick pounding up into her hot, wet pussy. And she would get that as the grand finale.

“How can this be real?” Duchess moaned. “Oooohhhh, Honey, what are you doing to me?”

“Shhh.” Honey smiled, grinding so that every circular motion of her hips sent a shiver through Duchess. “It's a secret.”

Duchess tossed back her head, looked up at Duke. He smiled back down on her with love and lust. But he was turned slightly, and his whole body was moving, like he was fucking!
He's giving my dick to that girl who looks like Honey. And India. At the same time!

Duchess couldn't believe her eyes. Duke was fucking two girls right in front of her! Was he serious? Delicious sensations were still radiating between her legs, but her body froze.

“Hey, sweetie,” Honey whispered. “It's okay. She's my sister. And India's cool.”

Duchess' eyes felt big as baseballs as she stared up at Duke pounding those chicks with great pleasure on his face.

And Honey thought this was okay since it was a family affair? For a split-second, Duke looked so sexy, she actually felt a burst of pride. It made her pussy even wetter.

But the fact that they didn't talk about this first, or any effort she made to talk about sex with other people was dissed with non-answers, made Duchess sting with betrayal. If this is an open relationship, let's make that verbal agreement. Duke disappeared behind her closed eyelids.

“Oh, Honey, you do that so good,” Duchess whispered, mimicking Honey's motions to intensify the pleasure.

“X marks the spot,” Honey said playfully.

The feeling was unbelievable, like a hot mash of velvet-soft girl stuff. Wet pussy against lips, clit, juice. Steaming. Building the starburst into what would be the most psychedelic, ridiculously intense orgasm.

For now, she would let Duke go on with his wild cowboy on the range self, acting like he could hop on and ride any female in his herd of hotties. He said they were partners, so this cowgirl was definitely going to sample a wide range of black angus of her own, after she savored this sweet, honey-covered appetizer.

Honey's lips were pouting as she stared seductively at Duchess and stuck out her tongue to lick the tips of her beautiful nipples.

Duchess was loving the visual image of that big, juicy pussy that was in her face, now pressing against Celeste, making her feel absolute euphoria.

“Oh, yeaaaahhh,” Duchess cried as violent shivers wracked her body. Honey did the same. Together they trembled, moaned, and gasped.

Duchess shivered once again, but this time with fear. Celeste was screaming. She would never be the same. Now she would be cursed to constantly crave dick and pussy. All day, all night. Always.

Knight had no trouble slipping into Babylon unnoticed, thanks to all the keys he kept stashed at Momma's house, and the secret tunnels and staircases that he and Prince had built into the basement and upper walls of Babylon.

Knight's shoulders brushed the smooth cement walls of the tunnel. Their huge flashlights illuminated Big Moe's pear-shaped nose and small eyes set in a ruddy brown face framed by a black skullcap.

“I'm cool from here,” Knight whispered as he unlocked the gate leading up to the building. “I'll be back here to get you at midnight.”

“Ya mon,” Big Moe said with his gentle Jamaican accent. His enormous hand extended another flashlight. “Take dis in case de udda one go out.”

Knight took it. The turning motion in his full stomach made him smile. “I feel it is settin' in. Full stomach, fresh air, and I'm ready for a nap. All I need is some pussy.”

Moe flashed bright, white, jagged teeth. “Ya mon, get some pussy an' you'll be out like a light.”

Knight turned off his flashlight. The little silver coil inside burned red for a moment then went entirely dark. The light came back on. “Den, you wake stronga dan ev'a!”

“That's how I view my whole time away,” Knight said, stepping up into the narrow stone staircase. His flashlight sliced golden beams through the thick blackness. Despite the adrenaline pumping through him, he yawned. All that food at Momma's was hardly making him light on his feet to stealthily navigate the bowels of Babylon.

As he ascended, he burped, loving the sensation of his stomach full of Momma's roast beef, macaroni and cheese, and greens. His mouth still tasted sweet from that big bowl of peach cobbler he had devoured. It was the best food he'd had in two and a half years. And she, fuming over Duke's new half-white, high profile girlfriend, promised to let him surprise Duke in a way that would, as Momma said, “Knock some big brotha sense into that boy's head.”

The stairwell went on and on, up and up. Even Duke didn't know about the maze of narrow staircases throughout this massive, ten-story building, or the underground tunnels that connected to a house Knight owned around the block.

He and Prince had built these secret tunnels and stairwells for two reasons: to protect in case of outside turbulence, and to safeguard control of Babylon in case of internal mismanagement and out-of-control power trips, as evidenced, lately, by Li'l Tut.

First, he had evicted Sunnie and Big Moe. Then there was all that drama with Milan and Beamer. Now he was making Babylon sanctuary for a fine-as-she-can-be fugitive from the feds.

Both Prince and Knight knew that one day, if they had to go away for a while, they'd eventually come back and pull in the reins on Li'l Tut's buck wild ruling style. Li'l Tut sure tried to do it right, but his way simply lacked the maturity to run the empire that was the brainchild of his big brothers, and their domain.

Before Knight left the penthouse for jail, Duke had his own suite on the ninth floor, just like Knight did until Prince died.

Finally, Knight reached the waist-high door marked 10. It led into one of the enormous mummy cases flanking the dresser inside the penthouse master suite. Little did Duke know, the cases each had a false back that worked like a trap door. Knight would be able to press a latch and release the panel so he could step right into his bedroom.

But here in the stairwell, he heard voices. Male and female. Arguing. As he calmed his heavy breathing from climbing eleven flights of winding stairs, he listened.

“Oh please, Duke, please,” said the female voice that sounded as rich and soft as butter melting in his ears. The sound of her words was so sensuous to Knight's woman starved senses, his pipe turned to lead instantly. His dick hadn't been this hard in years.

Was that the girl from the news? Victoria Winston? Milan tried to talk white but didn't sound that authentic. This girl was the opposite; white trying to sound black, and succeeding.

“I haven't seen you all day, Duke. And it's your birthday!” Fabric rustled. Either somebody was getting undressed or lying across the sheets. “We didn't even make love this morning, you blew outta here so early.”

“Baby girl, I'm savin' it for the party.” A jostling lock noise preceded a deep hum. It sounded like the lowering of built-in, bulletproof shields that descended over the floor-to-ceiling windows to the terrace.

“Expecting ghetto ninjas to come droppin' in?” the girl asked with an attitudinal tone. “A helicopter drive-by? Duke, who could possibly get up on the tenth floor terrace?”

“A nigga or a bitch on a mission.”

“And who might that be?”

“Always got extra security during a party. These niggas get wild an' e'rybody lookin' for a place to get they superfreak on.”

Something thudded softly.

“If you need me,” Duke said, “or the two Barriors, I got out by the elevator—”

“Duke, baby, I really don't like this Scarface-type atmosphere.”

“You'd like the shit better than the morgue. Just push one number. Six.”

More rustling fabric. A loud kiss.

“Stop, baby girl. I got serious bidness to han'le. That man eater between yo' pretty thighs can wait a hour or two.”

Why did Li'l Tut have to ruin her romantic moment with his thug-talk? Couldn't he see or hear this girl was scared? She needed some real love. Love and lust. That didn't mean she should have the status Duke thought he was giving her, but why would he bring that beautiful girl here and not take advantage of every moment to make love to her?

“I'm scared,” she said.” At least hold me for a minute.”

The stereo came on playing that damn song that had been all over the radio about Babylon. It was another of Duke's bad decisions, drawing too much attention to what they did. She said louder, “Duke, please just hold me.”

“Naw, baby girl.” Heavy footsteps echoed. “I got too much shit to han'le befo' I can enjoy my own damn party.”

“Duke, I know you're not about to leave me here naked, scared an' creamin' all over my damn thighs!”

“Ain't a safer place in the world than my bed,” Duke said, “for all o' dat.”

His footsteps echoed across the floor, followed by the sound of a closing door.

Knight eased into the mummy case. He moved the latch so he could step into the front and peer out through tiny holes in the ornate yoke around King Tut. That gave him a perfect view of the sheer gold panels around the bed. They were opened slightly, with a long, light caramel leg hanging to the floor, where a pretty foot with red toenails contrasted with the white marble.

On the bed lay a goddess. She was sitting so that she faced the end of the bed, her left foot curled up under her thigh as she rested back on her hands, staring up at the ceiling. A cascade of straight black hair fell to the golden bedspread, making a wild swirl behind the round curve of her bare ass.

Tears streamed down a face that was too young and innocent to have been talking like she just did. Her straight black bangs and her black eyeliner extended from the corners of her eyes. Gold cuffs hugged her upper arms. A gold belt with coins adorned her waist and soft, creamy belly. She was like a vision of Cleopatra.

This was the ghetto version of the witness protection program: Take a rich, suburban, half-white girl who was hiding from the feds and turn her out. She was a woman who always got what she wanted from powerful men, especially when she got that look in her eye, like the one that girl had right now, staring at the flames crackling under the white marble mantle.

“Motherfucker!” She sobbed with a voice that was sultry but hard. “I hate it when he's stingy!” She snatched up a silver remote and aimed it toward the ceiling. The music cut off.

Silence. Except Knight could hear his own heavy breathing and the blood surging toward the hot pipe between his legs.

Damn, the sound of her voice only made his dick even harder. If there were any justice in two and a half years without any pussy, this would certainly be the reward; jamming this giant cock up between those pretty, creamy thighs, satisfying that girl's ache for love, and his own, all at once.

Knight's pipe was about to blow steam. He knew he was perfectly healthy, thanks to a battery of tests and a full check-up a week ago. Now his dick was hot, healthy, and horny as hell. It hadn't been laid inside a woman or anywhere else for what felt like an eternity, which he would make up for with that Cleopatra goddess right there. She could handle it.

She slid her other foot to the floor and stood, stretching her long, elegant arms over her head. Those copper penny nipples were hard and pointing straight at Knight. Her body was long and curvy, toned in horizontal lines along her abs, a perfect belly button, a little black puff of hair above juicy thighs, not too thick, not too thin.

“I'll show him!” she announced.

In a flash, she grabbed the pole at the end of the bed so that her ass was facing Knight, who was silent and concealed. He was worried that his dick would get so hard it would shoot through his khaki pants and bang on the inner wall of this mummy case.

He struggled to breathe slowly.
I'm gon' pass out.
Every drop of blood in his body was in his dick. Cleopatra's ass was flawless.

She grabbed the pole with both hands then raised her hips up to it.

She started to grind, ass popping in slow, sensuous circles against the bedpost. That gold coin belt around her waist jingled and shone with her perfect movement. Maybe her pussy was touching the post to stimulate her. But from this angle, Knight imagined that pole was his face, smeared and steamed with pussy.

A deep groan escaped his lips.

Cleopatra froze. She turned around with huge blue eyes glowing with fear. “If that motherfucker has someone watching me in here too—” She stomped toward the mummy case, titties bouncing, belt jangling, red lips set to a natural pucker like she was hungry, horny and mad all at once. She grabbed the side of the case. Rattled the latch.

“Doesn't Duke know this creepy shit is for dead people? I'm telling him we need to take the coffins out of the bedroom. Don't care how pretty they are.”

She rattled harder, but it wouldn't budge because Knight locked it from the inside. She was close enough to smell. Her natural perfume was lemony-flowery. That made Knight's steampipe vibrate.

If his appetite for sex was anything like his hunger for food an hour ago at Momma's table, he was going to gorge on pussy until he passed out.

Cleopatra huffed away, her beautiful ass glowing like two full moons in the peachy bedroom light. She strode with that elegant walk into the bathroom. The shower hissed against the stone floor then sounded softer as the hot water streamed against her body.

Knight reached into his pocket for the tiny key that would unlock the mummy case door.