Microphone Fiend

by Sa'id Salaam

  The girls copped the buy one, get one half off special on tube dresses. Tasheena selected a black one, while her counterpart opted for a white one. They got matching heels, which were also on sale. The grand total to look just like a celebrity was a little over $40 for Tosha, and just $20 for Tasheena, since she was the one who got the half off.

  Mani and pedis from the Korean shop set them back another $30 each. The girls spent another $25 each to get permanent arched eyebrows tattooed on their faces. Now all they would have to do is shave off what God had given them to look crazy, instead of drawing them on themselves.

  “So, we hitting Club Illusions again tonight?” Tosha asked as they settled down in the food court with their Chinese food prepared by Mexicans. She was definitely down for another romp with Big Money for money.

  “Nah. I think I’m a just stay in tonight after all. You should, too. We party way too much. We should take a break,” Tasheena said in a believable tone.

  “Umm. Okay,” her puzzled friend replied. They had been partying a lot, but that’s what party girls did: they partied. She shrugged it off and took another bite of her shrimp-fried burrito.

  ***

  Breeze awoke Saturday afternoon with a satisfied smirk on his face. Not only had opening night been a huge success, but he had also successfully fucked the daylights out of Vita when they got in that morning. He had laid the pipe like an A-1 certified plumber, and she was now in a dick-induced coma to prove it. Her mouth was open with slobber leaking out while she snored loudly next to him.

  Breeze pulled the silk sheet away and took a moment to marvel at her gorgeous ebony frame. Her plump breasts were topped perfectly by round, fat, dark chocolate nipples, and not the big lumpy kind like some women have. The sight of them was enough to make a grown man want to latch onto them like a nursing infant.

  He cocked his head curiously at the faint horizontal line just above her bikini line. She had never spoken of a child, so he dismissed it. His dismissal was much like the way she had actually dismissed the child that had come out of it. Plastic surgery on the scar had all but removed it, and a tubal ligation removed the chance of it ever happening again.

  He continued to look at her nipples and thought it would be a shame to ignore nipples like that, so he leaned forward and licked one. He kissed it before taking it in his mouth to suckle.

  “Mmm,” Vita moaned as she awakened to the pleasure of his mouth upon her breast. She arched her back and spread her legs so he could take it as far as he wanted to go. Breeze took her up on her offer and reached between her thick thighs. She reacted by wetting his fingers with her juices and reaching for his erection.

  “Mmm.” It was now his turn to moan around a mouthful of her titty when she began to stroke his shaft. A phone rang on top of the dresser, and he flinched as if he was about to abandon her to answer it.

  “You better not,” Vita warned with a frown. The perceptive woman noticed his everyday phone was on the nightstand, so something had to be different about this line, hence the flinch.

  She was right, something was different about this phone. This line was dedicated specifically for his homies in the pen. He and Ice spoke on it every Saturday like clockwork, mainly to gossip about what was going on in there as well as on the streets. It was also how Ice called to ask for money. Ice always needed more money for something or another. Once a month the C.O.s would find his cell phone, so he would need money for another one. Then there was his commissary, tennis shoes, and other things he needed. Then there was the money he requested for his mama, as well as money for his baby mama. The last time he had called asking for money, he had asked for ten grand for some chick he met online.

  “You trippin’, shawty,” Ice grumbled to himself when his call reached voicemail. That had never happened before, so he hung up and called back. Same number, same results with the same reaction, “You trippin’, shawty.”

  On the ladder of life, jail is just one ring above death, and just below being buried alive. As inane as the conversations were, they were all Ice had left in this life. He called again, again, and once again, but still no answer.

  “Damn, this pussy good!” Breeze moaned over the ringing of the phone. The good pussy squished back a thank you as he plunged in and out with long slow strokes.

  “It’s. Yours. If you. W-w-want it,” Vita managed to moan back just before she came.

  Morning sex is usually a race to see who cums first. With people having so much to do afterward, who has time to worry about their partner? It’s all about busting a nut and getting up to start the day. Vita’s violent orgasm coated Breeze’s dick with a thick white cream that resembled lotion. The tight squeeze of her vaginal walls clamping around him sent him hurtling over the edge. He sunk down deep inside of her, knocking against her cervix, and let go.

  “Mmm, daddy,” she softly moaned as she milked him dry by clenching and unclenching her vaginal muscles extra tight around him. All those kegel exercises she did really paid off at times like this.

  “I gotta go meet with Carlton and Billie,” Breeze announced woefully. The thought of pulling out of her tight, hot box sadden him.

  “You mean Carla and William,” she giggled at her cross-gender nicknames for the duo.

  “Stop, they ain’t gay,” Breeze laughed, slowly pulling out and then sitting up on the side of the now-messy bed. “He’s just a bit soft and, well, she’s a bit rough. But…” he paused, trying to come up with a but, but failed.

  Breeze stood and headed for the shower. Vita filled his unspoken wish when she, too, got up and followed him inside. The couple fought not to make love inside the steam-filled glass box, but failed. Breeze bent a willing Vita over and slid in deeply from behind. It only took a few minutes of deep penetrating back shots until both of them were cumming. Breeze pulled out and shot his semen all over his lover’s back. It wasn’t about birth control. No, he just liked to do that. It made him feel like he was starring in his own porno.

  Falling in love comes in stages. The first is infatuation, followed closely by stage two, which is being pussy whipped. Next there’s stage three, which is trust, followed by accepting the person for who they are over who you want them to be. With that last nut Breeze had reached, he entered stage two.

  ***

  Breeze managed to stay out of Vita’s vagina long enough to get dressed. He selected a casual outfit and set out to the club. He deliberately tried not to read the sign above the club, but failed. Once inside, he met up with his staff to be briefed.

  “Another night like last night and we may just break even!” a happy Carlton exclaimed with the enthusiasm of a soccer mom who had just watched her child score the winning goal. Billie seemed pleased as well, with a big, bright smile on her cute face. They were the only ones happy about the news, however.

  “Break even? What the fuck you mean, break even? The club was packed last night! The bar was popping! How in the hell are we just breaking even?” Breeze roared.

  “We haven’t broke even yet. I said with another night like last night, we just might,” Carlton huffed. He turned to Billie, who was already flipping open her laptop.

  “Liquor sales were ten thousand. Valet payment was another thousand. Champagne was…” She went on until she had quoted all the numbers for expenses. The nerdy girl glowed while speaking. The only time she seemed to speak up was when it pertained to numbers. Other than that, she was an intellectually-skilled social outcast. Her nervous giggling around Breeze told him she wasn’t a lesbian, despite the way she dressed. She definitely liked guys, but guys didn’t add up in her mathematical equation.

  By the end of her spiel, Breeze understood completely. He now also hoped for another night like last night. As the owner, he was paid based on profit percentage. Breaking even meant he would be able to pay everyone except himself. Billie continued to ramble on about the projection for turning a profit by the end of the month. However, all Breeze could think about was Ice and his request for ten thousand dollar
s to trick off. All he could do was shake his head at the thought.

  “Don’t look so grim,” Carlton urged, misunderstanding his headshake and facial expression. “Most clubs take months to become profitable, but we’ll be there in just under a month.”

  “Actually,” Billie injected with the facts, “most clubs completely fail. Half within six months and the rest by the end of their first year. Those are the ones that have rich owners and investors who have money to chuck into a sinking ship. It’s like tossing cash into a campfire and watching it go up in flames.”

  “One month, huh?” Breeze asked out loud, trying to digest the information.

  “At least! Oh, and contrary to what Ms. Billie here is saying, my clubs never fail!” Carlton insisted, moving his neck like a ghetto girl. Even Billie didn’t have the skill to move hers like that, but then again, she was far from ghetto.

  Chapter Ten

  “Okay, let’s see here,” Ju-baby began as he and Wesley prepared for the robbery. “Duct tape, check. Plastic cuffs, check. Guns and ammo, check. Curling iron, check. Ski…”

  “Curling iron?” Wesley frowned at the new item. He was used to the guns, ammo, and the rest of the items on the checklist, but the curling iron was something new. “We finna do the nigga hair or somethin’?”

  “Naw, this fo’ if that nigga get, um,” he paused, looking for the right word, “analgesia ‘bout where he keep his money,” Ju explained.

  Wesley frowned again at the strange-sounding new word and concept. Ju-baby meant amnesia, but Wesley wouldn’t have understood that word, either. Luckily, Ju-baby was there to explain things to him.

  “I’m a stick it up his ass if he claims he don’t got no paper. This hot steel up the ass will help make him remember real quick like.”

  “Oh, damn!” Wesley laughed. It was nasty, but a necessary nasty. For some reason, some victims don’t believe they should have to take a loss when that door gets kicked in on them. Even with ski-masked men with guns in their face, they try to hold out. Sometimes torture is the only means to make them come up off that money.

  It never ceased to amaze the veteran robbers how much abuse some people took just to hold on to their bread. One successful hold-out kept his, but he lost his fingers and one of his eyes. Now, when he says he has his eye on his money, he means it literally, since the other one was plucked out. Wesley and Ju-baby have cut off body parts, sexually assaulted women, and held screaming babies over boiling pots to get the money. Tonight would be especially vicious and nasty if the curling iron had to come into play. Again, it would be a necessary nasty if it came to that. If Mont just came off that dough, his rectum would be protected.

  The creeps come out at night, right along with the freaks, so as soon as night fell, Ju-baby and Wesley made their move. Mont’s car wasn’t in the driveway when they arrived, so they pulled up the block to watch and wait. They correctly assumed he was out collecting more cash to contribute to their campaign. He was also out picking up a little somethin’ somethin’ for himself.

  Mont had planned to re-up in the morning, but that was now out of the question due to the fact he would be broke by then. The new plan was to get high, get some head, and get laid.

  “Look like shawty tryna fuck somethin’,” Ju-baby said when they saw a female get out on the passenger side. His vision wasn’t good enough from where they sat to make out who it was, but his partner’s was.

  “That’s that nasty-ass Shrimp,” Wesley stated, feeling his sick dick throb at the sight of her. If Ju-baby didn’t know any better, he would have thought the girl held him at gunpoint and made him have unprotected sex with her. However, he did know better, because he knew his buddy had stuck his bare dick in half of the hos in the hood. He was a walking public service announcement waiting to happen.

  “Hope that bitch ain’t got x-ray vision,” he said, putting the car in gear while pulling down his ski mask.

  Shrimp had that wet wet, and Mont was looking forward to their late night tryst. She, La-La, and a host of other hos used their vaginas to host dope-boys after a night of hustling. All one had to do was fall through with a blunt, and they could slide right in.

  “Hope that bitch do got x-ray vision,” Wesley grumbled. That would give him a reason to kill her to avenge his dick, since it was her fault and all it was burning.

  Ju-baby crept forward and cut the engine. They coasted silently into the driveway and parked behind Mont’s ride. After surveying the block for a full minute, they were ready to make their move. The guns got checked once more before they got out and swiftly walked up to the house. Once they reached the porch, there was no turning back. Wesley was about to put his shoulder to the door until Ju-baby stopped him.

  “Wait,” he whispered, and reached for the knob instead. His bright smile lit up the night when it turned. Dude was so high and in such a hurry to put his dick in his nasty baby mama he had left the door unlocked.

  “Sho-nuff,” Wesley said, shaking his head at the man’s carelessness. They eased the door open and then eased inside, guns held high. The front room was empty, so they followed their ears to the back. The loud slurping sounds of a dick being sucked in the quiet house led them to the den, where the couple was. Mont was reclining on the sofa while Shrimp was on her knees in front of him, giving him one of her hood-famous blowjobs. It was all lips and wrist, accompanied by plenty of saliva. She sounded like a wet vac as she sucked on his hardened rod.

  Mont had his eyes closed and his head back, enjoying the fire head. Ju-baby almost hated to interrupt the magnificent blowjob, but not Wesley. As a matter of fact, the sight only made him angrier.

  “Nasty bitch,” he growled and swung his gun. The blow knocked Mont’s dick right out of her mouth and sent her reeling to the floor. Blood poured from the long split in her top lip.

  “What the fuck?” Shrimp protested over getting smacked with the pistol. She looked down at the blood in her hands and decided to be quiet.

  “What the fuck?” Mont demanded hotly at the loss of suction on his erection. A second later, his mind processed what was happening and he asked, “Ya’ll tryna rob me?”

  “Nah, nigga, we the blowjob cops, and that bitch is under arrest for using too much hand and not enough tongue,” Ju-baby quipped sarcastically. Shrimp frowned behind the hand covering her bloody mouth. She didn’t need x-ray vision to recognize the voice behind the mask. Noticing her phone fell along with her, she discreetly picked it up to gossip. While the men talked, she texted Ju-baby ‘nd ‘em.

  “Where that bread at?” Wesley wanted to know. He held his gun in Mont’s face like a news reporter with a microphone.

  “Bread? What bread?” Mont asked, cracking the robbers up. The next crack was from the sound of a backhand pistol slap.

  “Why niggas always say that?” Ju-baby wondered out loud while his partner pistol-whipped the victim.

  “Okay, okay! Look, I got a couple of racks in my pants and a whole ounce on the counter,” the dumb dealer bargained and spit out a tooth. He wasn’t worried about it, since he had over a hundred thousand in the house. It was more than enough to replace a tooth.

  “Have it your way,” Ju-baby shrugged and said as he pulled the curler out and plugged it in. Shrimp used her free hand to check her weave.

  “W-w-what’s that for?” Mont stuttered, hoping it wasn’t for what he thought it was for.

  “Finna put it up yo’ ass to help you ‘member where the rest of yo’ money at,” the young, ruthless robber calmly replied.

  “Upstairs in the back closet in a black bag,” Shrimp quickly volunteered. “And he got that loud in the freezer.”

  “Bitch, how you gon’ give up my shit?” Mont demanded when Wesley took off in search of the money and drugs.

  “Mont, Ju-baby ‘nd ‘em don’t play,” she whined, making a bad situation worse. It started out as just a robbery, but was now so much more.

  “Ju-baby? Ju-baby from the west side?” Mont questioned, having heard of his rep. Wesle
y returned, grinning happily with the bag of cash just as Ju-baby pulled up his mask.

  “’Sup?” his partner asked at the breach of standard protocol.

  “So, you must be Wesley, then,” Mont nodded at the second man. “Ya’ll know I ain’t finna go out bad, right? Ya’ll know I ain’t finna just let this shit ride, right?”

  “Suppose not,” Ju-baby agreed, and then fired a round into his forehead.

  “Y’all already know I ain’t gon’ say shit,” Shrimp stated confidently. She had sex with both of them on several occasions before last night, and thought that was enough to save her.

  “Sho’ ain’t,” Wesley eagerly agreed, and then shot her, too. Ju-baby shrugged and went into the kitchen to collect the coke and weed.

  “Funky,” he cheered, finding the weed in the freezer. It went in a bag, while the coke went in his pocket. While he was gone, Wesley picked up Shrimp’s buzzing phone.

  Ju-baby ‘nd ‘em what? La-La had texted back. Nothing, he replied and tossed Shrimp her phone back. She didn’t catch it, however, since she was dead. Dead people suck at catching.

  “Let’s push,” Ju-baby said, coming out of the kitchen. Wesley fell into step behind him, and the duo was gone.

  The double murder silenced the ride over to Ju-baby’s apartment. A blunt helped to soothe their cold-hearted consciences. It wasn’t their first murder, nor would it be their last.

  “Damn, shawty,” Wesley shouted when Ju-baby dumped the piles of cash on his rickety kitchen table. “Split that shit up!”

  “Ya already know,” his partner in crime assured him. He didn’t specify evenly, and got shorted. At the end of the count, Wesley walked away with a little over thirty grand to Ju-baby’s seventy. He couldn’t get slick with the weed, since it was frozen in two bricks. However, Wesley wasn’t getting any of the coke from his pocket.

  “Let’s hit the club, shawty,” Wesley said, ready to go show off and pass off his combination STD.