Street Chronicles Girls in the Game (22 page)

“Yeah, Twan got heart, Bossy. He's a gangsta from the womb,” said Big Black.

“So, Big Black, it wasn't you that took care of Ant?” questioned Bossy.

“It's not important who did it. All that matters is that it was handled,” barked C-Lok.

“But what about them two over there?” Bossy wanted to put all of the puzzle pieces together.

“Originally they were part of the plan to take care of Ant, but then they made the fatal mistake of coming to your doorstep. For that, they will pay dearly,” explained C-Lok.

The bodyguards had since bound and hogtied Powell and Meeks. All that was left to do was put the two men out of their misery. The only dilemma was which one of the three men who'd already sacrificed so much for Bossy would end the life of two police officers.

Bossy looked C-Lok in his eyes and could still see how much he was in love with her. Big Black had always been her protector, but Bossy had had no idea to what extent he had gone to protect her. Bossy was proud of Twan because he had been listening to her teachings. Her day had come, and Bossy felt it deep inside. It was time for her to thank those who'd always protected and loved her.

Reaching behind her back, Bossy gripped her pearl-handled gun and announced, “I got this.” As she walked toward the dark corner where her potential victims lay in wait, Bossy felt a strong hand on her right shoulder, stopping her in her tracks.

“No, you don't got this. I'll take care of it. Bossy, you go home,” ordered C-Lok.

Bossy put her gun back in place and turned to do as she was told. She knew better than to argue or disagree with the man. Slowly Bossy climbed the stairs and closed the thick door behind her, knowing that no matter what, she would always be protected.

I
f only Bossy knew how much more lookin’ out for her you've done over the years, she would consider being ya wifey,” Big Black said about an hour later as he flashed a smile.

“She would never have it. Bossy was reluctant to get off these streets and learn a different way to hustle. She has to be independent, and I need to be a provider. We just aren't meant to be.

“When we left the prison that day, I didn't know what we were going to do.” C-Lok turned to look out his bay window and light
a stogie to gather his thoughts. “When the apartment came up for sale it was a lifesaver. Bossy and her girls would always have a roof over their heads, and Devin's wishes came true. We protected his sister.”

“We can never let it get out that Teddy Bear paid me one million a year for taking that bid for Bossy,” confessed Big Black.

“How can one woman have so many men putting their lives down like this? You did a bid for Bossy. Teddy Bear molded his game and lived his life for Bossy. And I … well …”

“And you love from a distance. What a man won't do for love,” stated Big Black.

“Correction,” C-Lok said. “What a man won't do for Bossy.”

“What do you mean you can't get me any more credits?” Bobby yelled into the phone.

“Bobby, I got you twenty Gs worth of Gucci credits last week,” his boy yelled back into the phone. “That's worth at least eight Gs in the street. I'm hot right now.”

“I'm sayin', fly some of your boostin’ bitches out to Vegas or L.A. and let them tear up the malls down there! Every fuckin’ penny counts, and you owe me, nigga. I need a hundred and fifty thou in less than two weeks, or Oh So Brooklyn Records is going to fold.”

“You're broke like that, son? I don't know how you be runnin’ through so much paper. Why don't you call Grape and ask that
dude for a loan? That nigga is getting mad paper out here on these streets.”

“I just finished paying him the hundred grand I borrowed to keep Teesa's ass alive.”

“You must really love Teesa, Bobby.”

“I must.” Bobby sighed.

“Where are you now?”

“Standing outside of the Gucci store on Fifth Avenue waiting on one of my new artists, and the bitch is hot. Her wood game is wack, but her pussy is tight as hell, and she is gorgeous.”

“You a muthafucka, boy. You better hope Teesa don't find out. How are you gonna complain about needing money and you out there spending the credits I got you on some trick?”

“How do you think I keep my artists from complaining about pushin’ their album releases back? And you know Teesa know the deal.” Bobby lowered his voice as he walked into the store and up to a young lady who was trying on a pair of shoes. “I gotta go. Get me some Neiman Marcus credits. We'll talk soon. Bye.”

T
eesa looked into the mirror and smiled. She scooped up some clear gel, wet her hands, and raked them through her hair, which was tapered closely on the sides and spiked up over the rest of her head. Her dark tan face was smooth, with the exception of the permanent smile lines around her mouth. She painted pale orange lip gloss on her lips and stroked some liquid eyeliner across her eyelids. She was a tarnished dime that had been around the block a couple of times over. Good thing for her northern New Jersey was just as big as the city of New York, because she'd gone through every person she could who had money during her thirty-plus years in the Big Apple.

She threw on a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a cropped stretch white tee that revealed her D-size cleavage, and squeezed into a cropped jean jacket. She slipped into her white Uptowns and placed a huge tube sock over one of them. She grabbed a pair of high-heeled mules, walked out the door, looked at her petite diamond-encrusted Rolex, and sucked her teeth.

“Damn! This nigga hates when I am late. I better hurry my ass up.

She climbed onto her fuchsia-and-purple motorcycle, the crack of her pantiless ass peeking out as she leaned over. With three turns of the throttle she sped off into the hot and humid day. She reached Edge Water, New Jersey, in fifteen minutes flat. She parked her bike in a long, winding paved driveway. Before she could slip into her second shoe, the door swung open and a huge dark-skinned man stood in the doorway wearing long baggy denim shorts, a huge white tee, and slippers. As she adjusted her shoe, she smiled and stared. His teeth were straight and white, his hair was cut close, and waves circled his small head. His skin was dark and shiny, and his arms were almost as big as her thighs. His eyes were deep, dark, and narrow. He stood there, all six feet, three inches and 338 pounds of him. He smirked and waved.

“Damn, Teesa, why you always gotta come up here late?” he asked, breathing heavily and speaking as if he had a mouth filled with marbles. “You know I be wantin’ you to rub my ass down right after practice. Come here, mama.”

“Hey, baby,” Teesa said as she walked up to Trey Wilkinson, the star linebacker for the New York Jets, and gave him a big hug and a steamy kiss. Trey wedged his fat hands down the back of her tight jeans and grabbed a handful of her ass.

“I love when you come here with no drawers on.”

He continued to kiss her as he backed into his huge five-bedroom house. Although Teesa frequented his home anywhere
from three to four times a week, when she entered his home she never grew tired of staring at the beautiful white columns that stretched all the way up to his superhigh ceilings, or the marble fountain. She slipped off her mules, and the cool feel of the marble floor sent chills throughout her body.

Trey led her to the couch, threw her down, and began to unbuckle his pants as he stared into her eyes.
Damn, she looks good,
he thought.
Teesa is about to get it. I am horny as hell.

His chef walked into the living room right as Trey began to pull his pants off.

“I'm so sorry for the intrusion, Trey, but your meals for this week are prepared and I am leaving. I will see you next week,” the chef said. He looked down to the floor. “Hi, Teesa, how are you?” His face was flushed from embarrassment.

“Fine, thank you.” Teesa blushed.

“Your check is on the kitchen counter. Grab that and go out the back door,” Trey said.

He barely waited for the chef to exit the room before he pulled his shorts and boxers down and began fondling his dick. Teesa stood up and began taking her shirt off. Trey watched her as she turned her back to him, and rolled her eyes as she unhooked her bra. She inhaled deeply and turned back around. With her prize-winning smile of seduction and her game face tight, she dropped to her knees and began sucking his dick. He palmed the back of her stiff hair and pushed her head down each time it came up. His heavy breathing began to turn her off, but she kept thinking of the big black reward that she held hostage in her mouth.

This fat muthafucka's fuck game is sick, and his dick weighs like his pockets,
she thought as she tuned out his heavy breathing and released more saliva on his dick so its massiveness could slide in and out of her mouth with ease. As she came up for air, she stood up and wiggled out of her pants.

“You got condoms, Trey?” she asked.

“Come on, Teesa,” Trey said, sucking his teeth. “It's not like you never let me hit it raw before. Just one more time.”

He pushed her down, face-first, toward the couch and slid into her wet vagina from behind. She wanted to stop him, but she couldn't. It just felt so good. Once she was fully penetrated he lifted his stomach up and put it on her back as he pumped in and out of her. With each stroke he let out a yell like he was lifting up a heavy weight, and thick beads of sweat dropped off his body onto Teesa's back.

“Trey,” she managed to pant out. “Sit down on the couch. You know I can't cum this way,” she continued, out of breath.

He turned them both around without missing a stroke and fell back as Teesa stayed seated on his dick. She screamed out in pain as they plopped onto the couch. Once she gained her leverage she rode Trey like he was her motorcycle. Her size-six body looked like a ventriloquist's dummy on his lap in comparison to his huge frame. He cupped her breasts tightly as he pumped into her. On top she was in control. She turned around, faced him, and looked into his eyes.

“Do you love me, Trey?” she whined.

“Yes. You know I do,” he moaned.

“How much?”

“Fuck, girl. Let me get my nut off, baby. We can talk that love shit later,” he spit out.

She whispered in his ear as she began to twist and grind him harder. “I want to feel this fat dick inside of me every single night. It feels so good inside of me. Damn, you got a big black penis.”

She whispered herself into a hard climax. He came seconds after her.

After a game of nude Ping-Pong in his game room followed by
a shower, they retired to his bedroom, where she gave him a massage.

“Baby, can you give me some money? I am short on my bills this month,” Teesa said as she rubbed his huge back down with scented oils.

“How much do you need this time?” he said, as if he knew her statement was coming before it even fell off her tongue.

“About five thousand,” Teesa answered as her cell phone went off.

“No problem, Teesa. Take what you need,” Trey replied, turning over. “Take it out of the stash.”

She wiped her hands on his sheets and picked up her cell phone off of the end table.

“Hello?” she answered her phone.

“Hey, Teesa, how are you today?” the caller asked.

“What's up, Delilah? I'm cool. What's going on with you?” Teesa said to her longtime homegirl.

“I'm going to the mall. Can you come with me? I need to pick up some things for my trip next week.”

“You didn't tell me you were going away. Where are you off to this time?”

“Guy's boy from Atlanta is having a fifth-anniversary party in Jamaica.”

“I'll meet you at the mall in front of the Chanel store in an hour.”

“Okay. I'll be there at three o'clock on the nose. See you in a few,” Teesa said as she ended the call.

“My girl Delilah and her
husband
are going to Jamaica next week.”

“That's the real pretty girl with the long hair, right?” Trey said.

Teesa nodded her head. “Yeah, that's her,” she said flatly. She paused for a moment and then asked, “Do you think she looks better than me?”

“Hell, no,” Trey lied quickly. “We can take a trip to the Caribbean during my off-season.” He sat up in the bed and hugged her lightly. “If I get traded to the Patriots, are you going to come down there with me?”

“If you put a ring on my finger,” Tessa said, rolling her eyes. “I ain't going to move out there to be your house whore. We've been seeing each other for two years now, and I ain't gettin’ no younger. I want to have kid—”

“Teesa, don't start that shit again,” Trey said, cutting her off. “I love you and I'm in this for the long one, mama. I put a fuckin’ ring on your finger that you never wear.”

Shit, I forgot to put my ring back on after I left Bobby last night,
she thought, looking down at her bare finger.

“Trey, you know I don't like wearing it when I'm riding around on my bike. Someone might rob me. Besides, I ain't talking about no friendship ring. I'm talking about an engagement ring and a marriage date.”

“Whatever, Teesa. I'm going to sleep. You gonna stay here with me or are you going to go racing out of here like you always do?”

“I'm going to the mall. I'll be back later,” she said as she got up out of the bed to get dressed.

“Okay, mama,” he said, pulling the sheet over him. ”I love you.

“I love you back.”

Teesa got dressed, then went into the bottom drawer of Trey's dresser, counted out seventy-five hundred-dollar bills, and shoved them into her inside jean jacket pocket. She kissed him on the cheek, left the house, hopped on her bike, and turned the throttle quickly three times.

Trey rolled over and laughed once he heard her pulling off on her bike.
I think I'm going to ask her to ride across country with me
next week and marry her. I do want to have some kids.
He then turned back over and fell fast asleep.