XXX Underground Playgrounds: La La's Story (7 page)

“All my life I had two white parents.” Ghost replied like always. She watched La La pack her bags and not once did she ask her anything.

“So, are you going to ask me?”

“Nope, I figured if you wanted me to know you would tell me.” Ghost told her crossing her legs.

La gave a smirk and nodded her head, like she agreed with Ghost’s logic. “So, when I get back I need you to take a ride with me.”

“Cool, let me go. I have a request to dance, and this is the costume they desire”, she said posing. “5,000 to fan dance for some old ass white men. Oh, yo girl is about to get her Josephine Baker on.” She said jingling her pale slightly voluptuous ass.  That girl could put a smile on anyone’s face; La La thought to herself.

Gangsta island

“You shouldn’t have married that fucking riff raff, in the first place,” Jah told La La as they just finished putting two in one of Que’s enemies he had accumulated before he met La La. Que had a price on his head in his hometown of Gary, Indiana. She knew that but not for the reasons his ass made it be.

The true Que felt as if the world owed his ass something for spending 11 years in jail. This nigga thought he was a revolutionary, a black rebel, who somehow was a fucking political prisoner wrapped up in a damn gangster rapper all in his own head. In actuality, this nigga was just a fucked up individual.

He wanted a pat on the back, a car, house, the red carpet, rap contract, clothes, etc. Just because he did something in the life, he was trying to live; that was part of the code. The street code. No snitching. Usually, when an organization picks someone to take the fall, that person is usually the less valuable within its organization. Que felt like he was the realest brother in the world.

“I’m just not the only motherfucker in the G that wants that nigga gone. If I find that nigga, believe me, I’m killing his ass and hosting a parade with his body on the float. Que is a grimy ass fuck boy. That nigga whole claim to street fame is larceny, shit he used to steal from our mother and her many boyfriends. You guys might want to vouch for a different motherfucker, and you might want to get your ass out of the G speaking that nigga’s name. I’m his brother, and I don’t even fuck with him.”  Even with two masked gunmen with their guns to his head did not stop him from telling the truth about his brother. La La gave David her number before they exited his car.

Jah did not give a fuck about Que; he was doing this shit for his sister. As they got, Que’s brother added, “By the way, that nigga not dead or kidnapped. I would have heard about it by now. I don’t mean to be harsh, but you are going to end up killing that nigga when you find him, or you are not going to find him. Rest assured his grimy ass did some shit to you, you just haven’t found out what it is yet.” He laughed as he went on his way.

Just before they hit the highway to go to Chicago Midway Airport, La La phone vibrated with a text, Check social networks and anything dealing with his computer. He never deletes his history. La La assumed that was Que’s brother. She forgot about everything at home. She needed to go back like Jah said.

The underground playgrounds

The expensive motorcycles were placed strategically throughout the warehouse with each girl dressed in crotchless sexy motorcycle outfits. The girls submitted their bodies to The Weeknd’s Wicked Games; each girl was in sync with the other, committing each muscle to the erogenous sound of the voice satiating the air with words that every man in that warehouse wanted to say.

The motorcycles had strap-on placed upward on the seats, stripper poles were placed securely by the bikes. These were Clientele that loved to ride expensive bikes, loved to fuck expensive bitches and loved the expensive feel of just one clicking without the pain of having to worry about how much they had.

Collectively each girl positioned themselves above the seat of the bike; the crowd came closer and closer, enthralled with the thought of these women fucking the motorcycles. Images of these exotic looking women dancing on their Johnsons flashed through their minds.

Each girl did as they rehearsed a thousand times, enticing them with the arch of their backs, mouths,  yearning for their wetness dripping down the shaft of the strap-on onto the seats. It was a combination of stripping, professional dance and porn.

La La covered in all tailored black suits created to fit the curves of her body; it was a sexy outfit but all business. She watched on as a proud mother watching how the ladies were in sync with each other, steady enticing each male to go deeper into his pockets. Shit, this was worth every penny, watching a sexy bitch fuck a sexy bike was worth more than a penny and La could not wait to get her cut.

As La watched on she spotted a familiar face, what seemed to be familiar to her, but he had dreads and a different nose. She was trying to get closer without being obvious, but someone nigga stepped in her way.

Jah already made sure all men knew the price range of each show this one, in particular, was 20 bills and up. He didn’t want to see two $10 or four $5; it had to be 20 dollar bills and up.

He was working on getting the girls phones that charged credit cards; their percentage would go into one account, and his cut went to his account. Their credit card bill would say UPS as in Underground Playgrounds.

Jah and Vega were admiring La La’s handy work, Envy had the idea but Jah had the vision, and his sister and Vega were helping him put it into fruition. He caught a glimpse of his sister and followed her eyes’ to some dude in dreads. Just like La, to him, he looked familiar. Jah starts walking towards him, but when dread head saw La coming towards him, he tried to dart out of there.

Speaking into his headpiece, Jah whispered some orders. The man on the other end started the car up as he saw Dread head hightail it to his vehicle. He followed him to the gas station; Gab filled up as the man filled up. Gab also grabbed some snacks because the man grabbed some snacks. To him this indicated that this ride was going to be long, he needed to be prepared.

Dread head and Gab both filled up next to each other; Gab ear hustled as the scared as fuck boy screamed into the phone, “Y’all motherfuckers are trying to get me killed. You said you killed her.”

“What the fuck ya mean, who is this?” Dread head snapped into the phone. He finished pumping his gas, opened up his passenger door and got in the car.   Gab could see that Dread’s were still fussing at whoever. He was trying to see who was driving, shit she looked good as hell. He saw Dread hang the phone and grab the chick by the hair for a deep kiss.

    Gab hung his nozzle up, put his cap back on and got into his car and pulled off. He hid his vehicle on the side where a little dirt road was, as soon as Dread’s passed him, he pulled off behind him. He watched as the girl went down on Dreads while he steered the car. Gab shook his head and grabbed his gun. His cell started ringing; he viewed the caller’s information, “Answer, he commanded.

“Where?” Jah asked

“Bone, you got a nigga taking a damn road trip,” Gab said!

“I got you, my nigga. About where?” Jah reassured him.

“We headed up north, but we are in the boondocks, where niggas probably are hanging from trees,” Gab told him.

Hours later they arrived in Michigan, in some small city on the border of Indiana and Michigan. 

As the couple walked into the house to retire, Gab eased his way onto and into their vehicle to set up bugging devices and camera under the driver seat so he could see between that beautiful ass bitch’s legs.

Gab noticed that no one stopped to turn off an alarm, matter of fact he didn’t even think he saw them unlock the door with a key. Must be nice to live where you do not have to lock your door, and then again he probably thought his home was above being touched. Gab thoughts would be right Dreads thought his home was above being touched.

The next morning Gab watched as both Dreads and his woman got in the car. He watched the dirt road; it was only three houses on that street, and they were all spread apart. So, just walking up to the house and getting in should be a cinch.

Gab searched throughout the house and placed bugs in the places where people have the most conversations at, the kitchen, living room, bedroom, and bathroom.  He continued to search the house; he came to the basement door it was locked.

“What the hell?” Gab said to himself. He couldn’t believe this simple motherfucker, you keep your front door unlocked but lock your basement door. Automatically, a person knew that the basement had some shit in it, shit that needed to be protected.

Gab paused, instead of picking the lock on the steel door, he placed a small camera above the door and facing the door. He needed to know, how far this nigga would go to protect what was behind that steel door. He could be walking his ass right into a trap. He would have to hold off until he knew more about this motherfucker here.

Gab headed his ass back to Indiana, keeping track of what was going on through his state of the art Tablet. It was about midnight when he saw, who he now knew as Naomi, get undressed with her back to the camera. Gab was happy he was back in the comfort of his own apartment. He pulled his dick out as he saw Naomi’s voluptuous yellow ass sitting nice and high.

The bathroom became steamy from the hot water, but Naomi was still visible. He watched as she lathered up her sponge, caressing the sponge over her breast, then her arms, just as she bent over, Dreads came in butt naked behind her and kept her bent over as he drilled her ass, Gab moved the camera to get a close-up on Naomi’s face. He wanted to jack off to her beautiful ass not a nigga fucking her.

Dreads washed his dick off and left Naomi to finish with her cleaning, Gab was just about to nut when the door being opened eliminated some of the steam. Gab’s hand flew to his mouth as he threw up chunks when he saw the girl of his dreams washing her dick. 

Meanwhile,

La La flew back home undetected with Ghost; She knew Jah’s mind was occupied with something, and she took advantage of that. Her brother couldn’t lie to her; she could tell him, and Gab had something going on and he had something to do with the look alike that popped up and the UPS.

La La house was sitting on land, property that she owned right out, and she paid cash. She did not have neighbors for at least a mile or two. She loved her secluded area. She entered her home, taking notice of the replaced windows and flooring. She walked to the house where she knew bullet holes should have been; there was not any.

One thing she did notice was that everything else was untouched, the way she left her bedroom and her kitchen was the same. Everything was the same; there was not any sign of a struggle except for the altercation she had in the bedroom. La La knew Jah must have done that on purpose, so she could recall everything that happened that night.

So, why wasn’t there any sign of a struggle in any other part of the house? There was no way that Que could have been taken from the bedroom, without her being awoken. Come to think of it, with all of the guns she strategically had hidden around the house. There should have been a struggle some fucking where other than that bedroom.

La La grabbed Ghost, “Follow me! As Ghost followed La La, she poured her soul out about what happened and what was going on. “I don’t want to tell my brother, but I don’t think that bastard was kidnapped. I think this was a tactic just to get out of our marriage. But the thing I can’t figure is, why do it this way?”

“Yeah, Ghost chimed in, why not just tell a bitch it’s not working out?”

“Shit, because that’s too much like right.” La La laughed. They made their way to the office, “Okay, I’ll check the laptop, and you check the computer on the desk.” She pointed.

“I do not know what your husband did but, he had taste.” Ghost told her as she sat behind the cherry wood Del Mar U-Shape Executive Desk with Hutch.

“I had all this before he came into the picture!” La La confessed. Opening up his laptop, his screen saver was their wedding picture. She quickly typed in the password, went straight to the files. Nothing was in the archives but as soon as she went to the internet and to the history. You can tell no one has tampered with the laptop; the last history was the same day everything happened.

They say one’s history is important, this shit shifted everything the other way. This shit right here was about to get a motherfucker killed. “In the top drawer is a cigar box full of weed. Do you know how to roll?” La La got her answer when Ghost started rolling up. She set the laptop down, went to another side of the room, pushed a button and a door slide open to reveal a bar. She fixed her a double shot of Diva Vodka with a cap full of papaya juice. She held up the bottle to Ghost, she shook her head no and pointed to the Bollinger Champagne. La La grabbed a bottle and gave it to her.

Ghost gave her the blunt and La lit it, grabbing his laptop she motioned for Ghost to follow her down some hidden stairs behind a curtain in the office. Waving her hand over this silver thing another door slide open, they walked downstairs to a plush all black apartment.