Bloody Betrayal

by J-Blunt

  After pouring drinks and rolling a blunt, the women got high and entertained the man of the hour. ATM bounced around, not able to stay still as he watched the women kiss and feel each other’s bodies. Then Skittlez forced Queenie onto her back and stripped her naked. After spreading her legs, she dove in face-first.

  “Oh, shit! Damn, Skittlez!” Queenie encouraged.

  When Queenie was good and wet, Skittlez went to the sex bag and pulled out a six inch vibrating dildo. She clicked it on and had Queenie get on her hands and knees. Queenie went wild as the vibrator went in her ass and she sat her pussy on Skittlez’s face. The light-skinned vixen worked her magic on Queenie until a full-body orgasm had her moaning in pleasure and cum dripped from her pussy like she was peeing.

  ATM stood and clapped his approval before emptying the money in his pockets on the bed. “Damn, y’all bitches sexier than a muthafucka! I can’t take no more teasin’. Let me in!” he said, snatching off his tank top.

  Before he could get his pants off, there was a knock on the door. “Who the fuck is that?” he cursed.

  “That’s our girl,” Skittlez said. “Get the door.”

  The irritation on his face disappeared when he realized a third woman was about to be added to the sexy situation. Jadakiss’ lyrics “Up in the Four Seasons havin’ a foursome” flashed in his mind as he went to the door.

  After checking the peephole and seeing La’Qua standing in the hallway looking fresh out of his dreams, his dick got harder. He was all smiles as he snatched the door open. “Dayum, girl! You–”

  A gloved fist to the lips snapped ATM’s head back, sending him stumbling into the wall. When he looked up again, Pop Squad was running into the room while La’Qua locked the door.

  “Fuck is y’all? What y’all want?” ATM shrieked, checking his lips for blood.

  “You know what dis is, nigga,” Deso said, snatching him off the floor and shoving him onto the bed. “Tell us where that shit at.”

  “C’mon, mane. This all I got, is what’s in the room.”

  Queenie addressed ATM while putting on her clothes. “Lie to us again and I’ma go kill yo’ momma. We ain’t no rookies, nigga. We did our homework. We followed you around the city for a week. That purple Cadillac you bought her is nice, but it ain’t bulletproof.”

  ATM looked at Queenie in amazement, surprised they had followed him for so long without him knowing. Then he looked to Skittlez, cursing the day he’d met her at the strip club. Her pretty, light-skinned ass was his downfall. “A’ight. I got sixty bands and a half brick at the crib. My baby momma and shorty in there. Let me call so I can get them to leave. The safe in the bedroom closet. Code is 2018.”

  Drama shook his head and began laughing. “You mean to tell me we ‘bout to get sixty racks and I didn’t have to shoot nobody?”

  “Power of the P-U-S-S-Y,” La’Qua laughed, slapping Queenie on the ass.

  “We gon’ stay here wit’ this nigga to make sure he ain’t lyin’.” Deso spoke up. “Y’all go get the money since nobody won’t be payin’ attention to three bitches goin’ in.”

  “I was thinkin’ the same thing. Y’all make sure he make that call and get them out the house,” Queenie said as she slipped into her heels and took ATM’s house keys. “Thanks for the money, baby. I wish you coulda got to taste my pussy. My shit is worth dyin’ for.”

  Queenie, La’Qua, and Skittlez left the hotel in the truck, pulling up to ATM’s house 20 minutes later. His girl was gone, and inside they found the safe exactly where he said it would be. After opening it and confirming the cash and dope, Queenie made the call to Deso.

  “What up, baby? Tell me somethin’ good.”

  “We got what we came for. Put that nigga to sleep.”

  Chapter 11

  “So, after we get our money up, what’s the plan? I don’t wanna keep robbin’ niggas. Ain’t that how y’all burnt up Houston?”

  Queenie blew out a cloud of smoke before reaching over to tap the blunt’s ashes in the ashtray on the bedside table. She lay in bed with Skittlez in the back room of Pop Squad’s new digs in a middle class neighborhood in Dallas. The three bedroom, one and a half bathroom Victorian-style house was a long way from the roach-infested shack in Houston.

  “I got a plan. We just makin’ these moves to get our money up, and then we on the move again. Hittin’ these niggas is temporary. Ain’t no real money in it, and it bring too much drama. I’ma find us a plug, and we gon’ run it up.”

  Skittlez smiled, liking the sound of the plan. “Damn, yo’ ass got it all figured out. That shit sexy, witcho bald-headed-ass.”

  “I’m just trynna make sure we don’t ever go hungry. I learned a lot fuckin’ wit’ Pop Somethin’. One thing about that nigga was he made it happen by any means. I love that he never settled. He went out and took what he wanted. I wanna do the same. I don’t ever wanna be out here fucked up.”

  A moment of silence passed between the women before Skittlez spoke. “You miss that nigga, don’t you?”

  Queenie took a long puff on the blunt before responding. “Every day.”

  “You don’t know where they were heading? Y’all was leavin’ Atlanta, right? Where was y’all goin’?”

  “We talked about Florida, but I don’t know if that’s where they went. We never kept the same phone numbers or identities. We did so much that we had to constantly change it up.”

  “You don’t think yo’ sister looking for you?”

  “I don’t know. They prolly think I’m dead. I looked fucked.”

  “So, what happens to the plans you made wit’ us if you catch back up with them?”

  Queenie took her time thinking of a response. Before she could answer, Drama and Snot walked in the room wearing goofy grins. “Pass that shit and make some room. I’m on my Jeezy shit. Let’s smoke and fuck,” Drama said, crawling onto the bed.

  Snot was already stripping out of his knee-length cotton shorts. “Y’all heard my nigga. Bust that shit open.”

  “Wait, wait, wait!” Queenie protested. “I’m good. I ain’t feeling it right now.”

  “C’mon, mane. You trippin’,” Drama frowned. “How you gettin’ new on niggas? You know how we do.”

  “Real shit,” Snot added. “You ain’t let niggas get in them guts since you been back. What kinda shit you on?”

  Queenie slid out of bed, her mind already made up. Drama and Snot were her workers. She didn’t want them to think anything more. She was no longer their bitch, but their boss. And she would fuck on her terms. Not theirs. “I’m good. Y’all go ‘head and fuck Skittlez. I wanna watch.”

  “Damn, bitch. That’s how you do me?” Skittlez frowned.

  Queenie took a seat in the chair across from the bed. “These my niggas. Take care of that. We a team.”

  The horny goons didn’t give her a chance to protest. Drama snatched off the sheet and Snot grabbed her legs, spreading them wide.

  “Hold on!” Skittlez reacted. “Y’all ain’t finna just start fuckin’ me. One of you niggas betta eat my pussy and get it wet first.”

  “You gotta lick it before you stick it,” Queenie laughed.

  “You already down there, brah. Handle that,” Drama said, standing on the bed, holding his dick near Skittlez’s face.

  “Man, this some weak-ass shit,” Snot sulked, moving his face between Skittlez’s legs.

  The threesome kicked off with a bang, Drama standing over Skittles, one hand on the wall for balance as she attacked his dick. She slurped him hungrily, slurping on his tool like she was trying to get to the center of a tootsie pop. Drama closed his eyes, lifting his head toward the ceiling and guiding her head with his free hand. Even though Snot didn’t want to eat her pussy, he gave his all. He sucked and licked Skittlez’s clit, making the sex kitten moan and reach for the back of his head to pull his face deeper into the pussy. Queenie felt powerful as she watched the ménage à trois. In her mind, they were her workers putting on a show for the boss, and it made her
hornier than she’d ever been.

  “A’ight, Drama, you fuck her from the back while Snot get head,” Queenie instructed.

  Skittlez knelt on all fours as the men switched positions. When Snot lay on the bed, the redhead went to work on his meat, returning the favor for giving her good head. Drama knelt behind Skittlez, admiring her round, light-skinned ass before spreading her cheeks apart and diving in. The young gunner didn’t believe in taking it slow and steady. Instead, he drilled her pussy like it was the last fuck before going off for a long prison sentence.

  Skittlez took the D like a champ, throwing her ass back at Drama while continuing to give Snot bomb-ass head. Queenie was so turned on by the voyeurism that her hands developed a mind of their own. One hand found its way to her clit while the other rubbed and squeezed her nipples.

  When she tired of the train, she gave more instructions. “A’ight. Change it up again.”

  “Wait. Hold on,” Drama panted, on the verge of busting.

  “Let us do this,” Snot added. “Her head game is up top, and she gotta drain this muthafucka.”

  Queenie got irritated by the backtalk. “Skittlez is my bitch. Y’all fuck her how I say or don’t fuck her at all.”

  Drama stopped mid-stroke, mugging Queenie. “Chill wit’ the power trip. Fuck you think you talkin’ to?”

  Queenie looked at Skittlez. “Get up. Let them niggas get blue balls.”

  The light-skinned woman’s reaction was immediate. She stopped sucking Snot and crawled away from Drama.

  “What kinda shit is that?” Snot asked, looking back and forth from Queenie to Skittlez.

  “She my bitch,” Skittlez said obediently.

  “Fuck her how I say or y’all ain’t gettin’ no pussy,” Queenie repeated.

  “Mane, you on some real fuck-shit,” Drama mugged. “You lucky she got some good pussy. What we doin’?”

  “One in the ass and one in the pussy.”

  “Oh, hell nah!” Skittlez protested. “Ain’t no nigga stickin’ his dick in my ass.”

  “They is today,” Queenie said matter-of-factly. “Get on top of Snot. Drama, get behind her and fuck her in the ass. Go slow. She a virgin.”

  Drama eyed Skittlez’s ass like it was a game show prize. “You heard the boss.”

  After giving Queenie a long look, Skittlez climbed on top of Snot, slipping his dick in her pussy, waiting for Drama to go in her ass.

  “Use yo’ finger to get it loose,” Queenie said.

  Drama sucked his finger and slipped it into her ass.

  “Oh, shit!” Skittlez moaned, tightening her sphincter as Drama worked his finger in and out. After a few moments, she relaxed, liking the feel of the finger as she began riding Snot. “Damn, boy. That shit feel good.”

  When her hole was wet and ready, Drama inched his dick into her anal walls. It took a while, but he eventually got it all in, squatting over her froggy-style as she rode Snot.

  “Oh. My. God. Queenie. This. Shit. Feels. Too. Good,” Skittlez moaned, loving the double penetration.

  Queenie wiggled her finger on her clit at lightning speed, loving the D.P. show.

  “Damn! Y’all in here gettin’ it on!” La’Qua said, showing up in the doorway.

  The threesome participants didn’t even acknowledge her presence.

  “Them muthafuckas ain’t playin’,” Queenie managed, not taking her eyes off the sex show.

  “I came in here for you. We need to talk. It’s important,” La’Qua said, her tone serious.

  The tone of her friend’s voice took away Queenie’s lust. “Why you sound so serious? What up?”

  “Can you come to Houston wit’ me so I can see my daughter? They granting visitation this weekend, and Deso don’t wanna step foot in Houston. He think somebody might see him wit’ us and try to sweat us while we visiting her. If some shit like that happen, we ain’t gon’ never get her back.”

  “Damn, La’Qua. Why you gotta come with that serious-ass shit while they fuckin’?” Queenie sulked.

  “My bad. I did fuck up the mood, huh? But don’t trip. I can help you get it back.”

  Without being told, the Latin bombshell knelt between Queenie’s legs and began eating her pussy. Sex music filled the room as everyone got their morning rocks off.

  Deso walked in the room, surprised by the orgy. “Damn. That’s how y’all leave a nigga out the loop?”

  La’Qua stopped eating Queenie to look up at her man. “All you gotta do is get behind me.”

  “I am. But first I gotta break up the party. Queenie, somebody at the door for you.”

  “Who is it?” Queenie asked, irritation in her voice. She wanted to bust a nut and was tired of the interruptions.

  “It’s Pop’s li’l cousin, Shanice.”

  Surprise spread across her face and through her body, killing the vibe. “Where she at?”

  “In the living room,” he answered, noticing the change in her mood. “You good?”

  None of Pop Squad knew of the lesbian relationship, and now wasn’t the time to tell them. And then there was Shanice. She had no idea how the love-struck woman had tracked her down, nor did she like being tracked down. She hadn’t gone home for a reason, but it seemed Shanice wouldn’t learn her lesson. It was time to teach her another one.

  “Yeah. We good. Tell her to come back here.”

  Deso studied Queenie for a moment. “You serious? You want her in here?”

  Queenie grabbed La’Qua’s head and moved it toward her pussy. “Yeah. She need to see this.”

  After one last look, Deso disappeared from the room. Queenie lay back, a smile spreading across her lips as La’Qua went to work.

  An audible gasp made everyone stop what they were doing and look toward the door. Shanice stood there, eyes wide with anger and hurt. For a moment Queenie regretted allowing Shanice to see La’Qua eating her.

  The remorse was short-lived when she heard the scream and felt a sharp pain sting her ear. “Bitch!” Shanice yelled, punching Queenie on the side of the head and diving on top of her. The chair tipped over and the women fell to the ground, Shanice on top. She was able to deliver two more punches to Queenie’s face before Deso grabbed her.

  “What the fuck you doin’? Chill!”

  “Let me go, Deso! Let me go!” Shanice screamed, trying to wrestle out of the bear hug.

  Drama, Snot, and Skittlez stopped their threesome to watch the violence as Queenie jumped up from the floor with a mug on her face and the desire for vengeance in her eyes. She attacked Shanice like they were enemies, throwing rights and lefts.

  La’Qua eventually grabbed her, but not before she did damage to Shanice’s face. “Fuck y’all fightin’ for?” La’Qua asked, unsure what to do.

  “Let me go, Qua! Let me go!” Queenie yelled, wanting some more.

  “Don’t let her go!” Deso said, struggling to hold Shanice. “Y’all muthafuckas chill! Fuck y’all fightin’ for?”

  Shanice ignored the question, screaming at Queenie, “You wanna play wit’ me, bitch? I’ma beatcho ass. Let me go, Deso!”

  “You the one actin’ immature and insecure, bitch. I got hands, don’t I? Put blood in yo’ mouth, ho?” Queenie screamed, also struggling to get free.

  And then she got loose, rushing Shanice. Anticipating the move, Shanice used the bear hug Deso had her wrapped in for leverage, leaping in the air and kicking Queenie in the chest. Queenie flew in one direction while Deso and Shanice crashed into the wall, falling to the ground.

  Like martial arts fighters in an action movie, both women were on their feet quickly, charging one another, fists flying. Several punches were exchanged as the lovers stood toe-to-toe and boxed until Queenie threw a punch that caught her girl square on the chin.

  Shanice’s head snapped back as she lost her footing, dropping to her knees. The fight was over.

  “Damn! On what, they wasn’t just thumpin’!” Drama yelled, excited by the fight.

  Snot jumped off the bed and stood ov
er Shanice, imitating Smokey on the ghetto classic Friday. “Damn, Shanice! You just got knocked the fuck out!”

  Nobody laughed except Drama and Snot.

  “Y’all good now?” Deso asked, looking back and forth from the fighters. “Fuck y’all fightin’ for?”

  Queenie touched a hand to her face, checking for blood. Red fluid on her fingers confirmed a busted lip and nose. “Yeah. We good. She know what’s up. Y’all get out. Give us a minute.”

  Deso looked at Queenie, questioning her intent. “Y’all ain’t finna box no more, is y’all? ‘Cause if y’all is, I want front-row.”

  Queenie shot him a mug. “Get out.”

  When Pop Squad left the room, Shanice got up from her knees, checking her face as she sat on the bed. Her eye was swelling, along with her bottom lip. “That’s how you do? Gon’ disrespect me like that?”

  “I wasn’t disrespectin’ you.”

  Shanice looked at Queenie like she wanted to fight again. “What the fuck you call lettin’ anotha bitch lick yo’ pussy when you know I’m ‘bout to walk in the room?”

  “I was trynna bust a nut and teach yo’ ass a lesson.”

  Shanice walked up on Queenie.

  “Betta stop ‘fore I knock yo’ ass out again!” Queenie threatened, cocking an arm back.

  “That was a lucky punch, bitch. I was beatin’ yo’ ass. And I ain’t finna fight you no more. I just wanted you to look me in my eyes and explain this bullshit. What lesson was I s’posed to learn from this? That you don’t love me?”

  “Nah. That I’ma do what I want and all the bullshit you doin’ is drivin’ us apart. You trynna play family, and I’m trynna get money. I ain’t trynna settle down and get married. I trynna eat and make a way for my team. And this how we move. I was Pop Squad before I met you or Pop Somethin’. These my niggas. We all fucked each other and ate off the same plate. As a team. This what I come from. This where I wanna be.”

  Shanice looked devastated. “So, this is it? What about us?”

  “It’s up to you. But this my team. They move how I move. I’m not leavin’ them for you. We trynna get it up. I need them.”