“WHUT THE FUCK!” He spun around. “You want a nigga workin’ at a fast-food joint flippin’ burgers or sumthin’? Dat shit is
lame as fuck!”
“No it ain’t!” Trina stated, coming to her feet. “What’s lame to me is coming to visit the man I love in prison for being
hardheaded!”
“Ain’t goin’ to no prison,” he said, throwing up his arms.
“Oh, it’s legal to slang now?” she said sarcastically with a light roll of her neck. Tink blew hard through his nose while
rubbing his face. When he dropped his hands he looked at Trina and saw her eyes were close to tears. He motioned her toward
him but she shook her head from side to side.
“C’mere, girl.”
“No… I’m pissed at you right now,” she snapped.
Tink gave in and walked the few steps toward her. “You really love me?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, I just clean up after your funky behind like every day, plus I make sure the sex is on point. I
take care of our son and I’ve been faithful to you since day one… do I need to add more? I can’t believe you asked such a
stupid-ass question!” She tried to hold it back, but a small grin formed on her face. Tink did the same.
“Look, baby, I’m sorry I bassed on you.” He placed his hands on her waist. “You forgive a nigga?”
She shrugged her shoulders, then folded her arms under her breasts.
“I’ma sell these last five grams, then I’m done.”
“Don’t be telling me no lie, Tink.”
“I’m dead-ass.”
“For real?”
“Yeah. I figure I can get a job since I don’t have any felonies… and you better not leave me for no baller,” he joked while
rubbing her panty-covered ass. She giggled and punched him playfully in his chest.
“What time will you be in?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“As soon as I’m done.”
“And don’t re-up neither.”
“Dat’s a promise. Afta tonight I’m doin’ it strictly legal.”
“I’ll wait up for you. I just got
A Hustler’s Wife
by Nikki Turner so that’ll keep me up.” She glanced over his shoulder at the digital clock by the dresser. She knew it would
be hours before nightfall and Tink wouldn’t leave until then. Being in such a happy mood, she lowered his
ear to her lips and whispered provocatively. Since she was already in her panties and bra she stripped naked with ease. Trina
was gonna have raw sex with the nigga she loved but he had to pull out before he came… she hoped he could.
When nightfall fell drearily over Raleigh, North Carolina, Lil’ Rick was pulling his solid-colored black hoodie over his head.
He watched from the cut as his mark led two chicks toward a room at the Red Roof Inn. The two chicks were both white girls,
college students, Lil’ Rick figured, from their NCSU sweatshirts. He had watched the three from the second they pulled up
in a black BMW 545i with black rims. Lil’ Rick shivered when a cool gust of wind blew in his face. He waited a good twenty
minutes, then removed a black .38 from his pocket and moved toward the room.
Datwon, the driver of the BMW, was breathing heavily as one of the white girls vigorously sucked his dick. Behind her was
her friend, pumping away wildly with a black studded seven-and-a-half-inch strap-on dildo. The three had been using meth since
they entered the room. The last time Datwon had tricked with meth he had stayed awake for four days straight! Even as the
redheaded girl sucked him off, he had a glass pipe near the bed ready to smoke more meth. Around his nose were traces of meth
that he had snorted off the two girls’ naked bodies. The girl sucking him licked his shaft up and down while massaging his
balls while her friend
continued to fuck her from the back. He closed his eyes when he felt himself close to cumming but his concentration was broken
when someone started banging on the door. His eyes shot open as the two freaks froze. His heart hammered in his chest: if
it was the D’s, then he was fucked. Not only from the meth in the room, but in the trunk of his BMW were two and a half keys
of raw meth. Pushing the girl from his dick he rolled butt naked out of the bed. His hyperactive mood caused him to rush boldly
toward the door.
“W-who is it?!”
“Me, nigga!” Lil’ Rick said. “Hurry up, po-po was checkin’ out your whip and—” He was cut off as Datwon unlocked the door
and yanked him in. Lil’ Rick was his nigga so it was all good. But before he could ask Lil’ Rick about the police he was surprised
with Lil’ Rick’s .38 pointed at his head. Datwon looked at Lil’ Rick, then laughed. The meth running through his blood made
him feel unconquerable. Lil’ Rick smiled as he peeped the keys to the BMW over near the bed.
“Here’s the joke, nigga.” Lil’ Rick lowered the .38 to Datwon’s stomach just as Datwon tried to rush him. The two claps from
the .38 were muffled because the barrel was pressed into Datwon’s belly. As Datwon crumpled to the floor, Lil’ Rick moved
quickly toward the car keys with the .38 pointed at the two white girls, who hadn’t made a sound. Lil’ Rick wasn’t planning
on being caught for murdering Datwon, but if he were, it would be a black-on-black crime and drug-related. Hell, the max he
would get… under seven years with a good lawyer.
But if he killed the two white girls… he’d never see the streets again. Picking up the keys he also found the two girls’
college IDs. He quickly asked who had rented the room. They both pointed to Datwon.
“I suggest y’all bounce and forget about all this ’cause I’m sure y’all mommy and daddy won’t be pleased to know y’all getting
high and trickin’, and if you do talk to the police…” He held up their IDs as he backed toward the door. Once he made it outside
he paused, then walked quickly toward the BMW. A few seconds later he pulled off with the lights off and got missing.
An odd feeling came over Trina as Tink headed outside. The time was what made her feel funny about tonight. Six-forty-six
p.m. She stood looking out the window as he walked away. His blue hoodie looked black. She watched him until he walked from
her view. “Be careful, baby,” she said softly to ease her mind and heart. Leaving the window she went to watch some TV to
bring some sounds into the silent apartment. A smile formed on her face at the clumsiness of Tink’s actions during their round
of raw sex. By “mistake” he claimed he was unable to pull out… the three different times he had cum inside her.
“So did you do the nasty with Lamar?” Jelena asked Desiree.
Desiree glared over her shoulder by looking in the mirror above her dresser. “Like I’ma tell you my business,” Desiree replied.
“I told you about the ménage that I did with Samuel and Ron, didn’t I?” Jelena said, folding her arms as she sat on the edge
of Desiree’s bed.
“Yeah, you did, Ms. Freak of the Week. But you also volunteered that bit of sexual info,” Desiree said.
Jelena smacked her balm-covered lips as Desiree stepped back from the mirror to check out her outfit. Jelena had to give her
girl some points on how she was rocking a pair of Seven jeans and a cashmere sweater. On her feet were a pair of Giuseppe
Zanotti–designed ankle-high stiletto boots. Her silky hair was hooked up in a French roll that showed off her sexy neck.
“Vera Wang or Euphoria?” Desiree asked, seeking Jelena’s choice of which scent she should wear.
“Vera Wang,” Jelena said.
“Euphoria it is,” Desiree replied and Jelena rolled her green eyes.
“You gonna spend the night with Lamar?”
“I might,” Desiree replied as she sprayed the scent on. “Why, what’s up?”
“Just asking,” Jelena replied as she shrugged her shoulders. “Being nosy. You know me.”
Desiree was about to put on her earrings when her $5,700 Vertu Ascent pink cell phone started to chime. It was the first gift
that Lamar had given her… before they even had sex. When Jelena saw how Desiree started to blush and giggle, she quietly got
up and left Desiree’s bedroom to give her some privacy with her call.
“How is the lady of my life doing?” Lamar’s voice melted Desiree in her boots.
“Fine,” she replied, looking at herself in the mirror. She was proud of what she saw. Mainly she was concerned about how Lamar
viewed her. At times she was a little self-conscious about her small frame. She was not stacked like Jelena, who could easily
give the video goddess Buffie the Body a run in the “make a nigga drool” department. In time, she had learned to accept her
small frame and love herself.
“Are we still set for tonight?” Lamar asked her.
“I wouldn’t miss it for nothing, Lamar.”
“That’s what I need to hear. By the way, what time do you have?”
Desiree turned up her wrist to glance at her gold DKNY watch. “Six minutes to seven.”
“And I’ll see you at—”
“Eight sharp,” she said, cutting him off with a smile. “Oh, and Lamar…”
“Yes, baby?”
“How about I spend the night?” she asked in a sexy tone.
“That sounds deeply enticing. But I doubt you’ll get any rest.”
“I’d be let down if I did,” she purred.
“So it’s like that?”
“Any way you want it, Lamar,” she confessed. “You know how I feel about you, baby.”
“I would be a fool if I didn’t.”
Desiree knew in her heart that Lamar was the perfect man for her and it showed all over her beautiful face. They talked a
few more minutes before hanging up.
Leaving her bedroom, she headed to see what Jelena was up to. As always, she was in her bedroom sitting in front of her Dell
computer surfing the Web. In the background Jelena had Keyshia Cole’s “I Should Have Cheated” pumping from her CD player.
“Damn!” Jelena exclaimed. “He’s engaged.”
“Who?” Desiree asked, standing over her shoulder.
“Victor, he’s engaged to some lucky girl… hell, I can’t pronounce her name.”
“It’s QuoVadis,” Desiree said. “Click Photos and you’ll see a picture of them together.”
The two started joking back and forth about Jelena’s fantasy to date a famous black author as the night moved on. Desiree
made sure to stay up on the time because she would not be late for her visit with Lamar.
Lamar sat in his huge den in front of the roaring fireplace sipping a glass of Johnnie Walker Red Label on the rocks. After
satisfying his thirst he placed the empty glass on a coaster, then picked up a remote. With a touch of a button a retractable
motorized screen unrolled behind him just as the Panasonic HD home theater projector filled the screen with the sex act that
he had filmed with Desiree. He had hidden a camera to record everything when he tied the blindfold over her eyes. Slowly he
spun his camel contoured chair around to face the screen. He smiled at his devious act. Of course he had asked to film their
sex act once before but she was strictly against it. Well, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. He watched with pride as
Desiree took his
dick into her mouth. Tonight he was ready to film her once again once they got behind closed doors. As he watched the screen,
he couldn’t help but wonder how sex would be with Jelena. At times he had wished that it had been Jelena and her juicy body
that he had met at the club instead of Desiree… hell, he couldn’t help it that he liked his women thick. But somehow Desiree
had grown on him. He grabbed his throbbing erection through his slacks as he watched Desiree’s sweet lips glide back and forth
over his spit-shined dick. He couldn’t wait for eight p.m., which was now forty minutes away. Just as the scene showed Desiree
flicking her wet tongue over his balls, his Motorola headset started to chime. Without removing his eyes from the screen he
reached over to pick up the headset and place it on his head. Sliding the mic toward his lips, he answered the call.
“Speak.”
“We have a big problem,” the male voice calmly replied.
“What kind of problem?”
Lamar listenened closely as his right-hand man told him what the problem was. His mood went from aroused to pissed.
“WHO THE FUCK TESTIN’ MY GANGSTA!” Lamar roared as he shot to his feet with his hand in a tight fist.
“Lil’ Rick.”
“Lil’ Rick, Lil’ Rick.” Lamar repeated the name, hoping to trigger when and where he had heard it.
“Datwon had him pushing for him over near Shaw.”
“How is Datwon?” Lamar asked as he tried to level his temper off and think clearly.
“He’ll make it. The two tricks he was with called me first instead of the police. Like I said, I then called Dr. Evans and
he patched Datwon up as best as he could. Datwon’s girl is with him at Evans’s private office.”
“I want this Lil’ Rick nigga dead before the sun comes up!” Lamar ordered.
“I already put the wheels in motion.”
“Good… look, meet me at Evans’s office.”
“Now?”
“Yes. I’m on my way now. I can’t let niggas take me nor no one on my team for being soft!” Lamar stated. With his temper on
the edge he yanked the headset off, then flicked the sex scene off. Five minutes later he was pulling out of his driveway
in his black BMW 760Li.
“Remember, if you see Lil’ Rick, call me as soon as possible and don’t say shit to ’im,” said Lamar’s right-hand man, Mance.
Mance sat behind the wheel of his quiet-running black BMW M5 with black twenty-two-inch Zenetti Blade rims. Sitting next to
him was a cute but deadly-looking Teairra Mari look-alike keeping an eye out for the D’s. The street hustler nodded his head
at Mance, then gave him some dap. And just to make it stick in the hustler’s mind, Mance nodded at the girl next to him, who
reached into the open glove compartment to pull out four grams of coke. She reached over Mance and dropped the work in the
hustler’s hand.
“You find Lil’ Rick for me and that’s yours, plus a grand when I see you again.”
“No doubt, dawg,” the hustler replied. He knew he could sell the work and get four hundred and if he came across Lil’ Rick…
shit, he would have enough to cop some weight. As Mance sped off, the hustler pulled the fur-lined hood of his Rocawear houndstooth
jacket over his dreads and went walking up the block. He placed the four grams in his front left jacket pocket, then reached
into the right to feel the rubber grip of his nine-millimeter.
“Please, Tink,” the crackhead by the name of Tanisha begged. “Why we cain’t work out the deal like we always do? You know
I’ma swallow.”