She Gave Her All to the Hood’s Finest 4

by Shvonne Latrice

  “Well, I can’t go home, so I’ll just get out.”

  “Why you can’t go home?”

  “I mean, I don’t want to go home right now.”

  “Yo’ nigga be fucking you up or some shit?” His brows lowered between his eyes as he turned his car on.

  “No, no, of course not. I’m just always at home, and I need to get some fresh air.”

  He said nothing in response as he turned his music up loudly as hell and sped off onto the street. He drove so damn crazily that I was actually pressing my feet into the floor, braking for him. This was clearly how he drove all the time because he acted like it was nothing, as he sexily bobbed his head to “Grindin’ All My Life” by Nipsey Hussle, which made me feel like we were about to do some criminal shit.

  Tony made so many illegal turns and took so many back streets that I didn’t even know existed, until we pulled up to a white house with a rickety gate in front on 2nd Avenue.

  “Where are we?” I frowned.

  “My crib. Get out.”

  “I’m not fucking you, Tony,” I let him know just as he climbed out of his Buick and shut the door.

  Leaning into the rolled down window of the driver’s side, he gave me a sexy scowl. “Bitch, if all I wanted was to fuck, I would’ve put yo’ stupid ass out at Lucky’s.”

  “Stop calling me a bitch!” I barked, making him chuckle before walking away.

  “Get the fuck out my car.”

  After a few seconds of pondering, I climbed out of the car and shut the door. “You know your windows are down? Someone could rob you.”

  “Niggas wouldn’t dare rob me ’round here.” He unlocked his gate and then pushed open the old wooden door for me.

  “Why, because you’d kill them?”

  “Yeah. But also because I respected the game, so niggas show respect back. Muthafuckas who really about shit don’t disrespect niggas on that same tip.”

  I nodded, sitting down on the brown couch once he hit the lights.

  He entered the kitchen then returned with a bottle of Hennessy. I usually didn’t like dark liquor, but I was stressed.

  So after watching him drink straight from it, I asked, “Can I have a sip?”

  “How many dicks you sucked today?”

  “Nigga.” I reached for the bottle, but he moved. “You’re serious?”

  “As a muthafuckin heart attack. You pretty as fuck, but pretty hoes be the dirtiest.”

  “I’ve sucked as many dicks as you have today,” I retorted, and the frown on his perfect face turned to a wide grin as he reached the bottle out to me.

  “If you was any other female, I’d choke yo’ ass up a wall for talking to me like that.” He let his head fall back as I took a sip off the bottle.

  “I’m special?”

  “Nah. You pretty, and I wanna fuck you.”

  Pausing, I asked, “You really think I’m pretty?”

  “Hell fucking yeah.” He kept his head back and eyes on the ceiling, speaking softly. “Soon as I saw you, all I could think about was sticking my dick in all yo’ holes, ears included.”

  “Ugh, you ruin everything!” I sucked my teeth as he shrugged.

  “So what, you a actress or some shit? That’s why you out here?” He finally looked at me, licking his supple lips as he took another drink.

  “No, nigga.” I rolled my neck. He cheesed before reaching over to pinch my chin, making me smile as well.

  Before I could say anything else, he swiftly brought me over to him and pressed his cold, soft lips against mine. I was frozen for a second but eventually gave in, allowing his tongue to enter my mouth as he massaged my ass. His hands were so big; he was so tall, so fine, so in shape, and super hood that I felt my panties dampen.

  “Take this off.” He started pushing my shirt up.

  “Can you take me home now?” I hopped from his lap and back into my seat as if his crotch had flames of fire burning in it.

  He took a deep breath, and I saw his dick was hard as a rock in his sweats. The size made my mouth water, so I quickly looked away.

  “Come on. Get yo’ weird ass up.” He shot up from the couch and held the front door open for me.

  I did as I was told, and we both went back to his car so I could direct him to my mother’s house.

  “Are you upset I didn’t fuck you? I told you—”

  “Nah. I got a bitch on the way to the crib, so she’ll be there when I get back.”

  His answer shocked me, even though I did see him texting as we walked from his house to his car. I didn’t know why I was disappointed. I hated how honest he was.

  “Oh, okay.”

  He finally pulled up to my mom’s on 4th, not far at all from him.

  “Aye.” He stopped me from getting out of the car. When I looked at him, he used his head to gesture for me to come closer. He was leaning back like a gangsta, with one arm thrown along the back of my seat. Foolishly, I listened, and he kissed me deeply as hell, making my clit tremble and a little juice seep from my box. When he pulled away, I felt paralyzed. “Get the fuck out my car with all that gazing and shit.”

  His rude comment snapped me out of my trance, and I immediately got out, slamming his door. “Fuck you!”

  “Slam my shit like that again, watch me dopefein yo’ ass.” Not wanting to tussle with him, I turned on my heels and switched up the porch steps. “Let me eat yo’ ass, Camarih, and I’ll forgive you!” His ignorant ass hollered out of the window, embarrassing me, despite it being a ghost town right now, before speeding off with his music bumping.

  I was so irritated yet hoping I ran into him again…

  Tony Wacko

  I woke up to the feeling of getting my dick sucked, and before I opened my eyes, I already knew who the fuck it was. Chilling, I let Brielle finish topping me off until I let loose all in her mouth, gripping the fuck out of her hair to be sure she got it all down.

  The whole time Brielle had bobbed on my shit, I kept my eyes closed, imagining that sexy little bitch Camarih. I didn’t know what it was about her ass, but a nigga actually enjoyed that impromptu time we spent together. I really only saved her ass in hopes of getting some ass, but she was chill, so I didn’t kick her out my whip upon her declining and shit. That was a rarity for a nigga, also the fact that I didn’t pop her in her muthafuckin mouth for being a smart ass. Maybe because that bullshit turned me on.

  “Rise and shine.” Brielle started kissing up my chest just as I lifted my lids to see her hazel eyes staring up at me. Her dark skin was supple, and her black hair was flowing down her back like always.

  “Take yo’ ass home.” I palmed her face and pushed her lightly when she was about to try and kiss me.

  I didn’t put my lips on these females just because I fucked ’em. That was how 90 percent of the homies got oral herpes and shit. Only reason Camarih got that shit was because she was beautiful as fuck, and for some reason, she brought that out of me. I couldn’t wait to fuck so I could get rid of her ass. I wasn’t the type of muthafucka to have females on my mind when I wasn’t deep in them guts.

  “Dang. I almost fell off the bed!”

  Ignoring her, I got up, fixed my boxers, and then went to brush, floss, and rinse my mouth with Listerine. After hopping in the shower, I went to slip into some royal blue cloth sweats, a wife beater, white t-shirt, socks, and royal blue slides. I didn’t wanna look too fancy. Shit, I was only about to put in work nearby.

  “You gotta go, Bri. I’m about to bounce.” I entered the kitchen after putting on my same cologne I wore every day.

  I made sure to lotion my hands and elbows too, some shit my mama had embedded in me before she passed on. She said no matter how gangsta I thought I was, no man should walk around with ashy ass hands and elbows like a bum nigga. That was when I was thirteen, and I was still doing the shit.

  “Why, baby? I haven’t seen you in two weeks.” Brielle joined me at the table as I fixed myself a bowl of cereal.

  “That’s kind of th
e fucking point. If I wanted to see you, I would see you.”

  “I just don’t get why you be treating me the same way you treat Joy and these other hoes. I’m not on the same level as them, and you know it.”

  “All you hoes is on the same level to me. Now what’s in ya head is a different thing, but I don’t give a fuck about none of y’all asses.”

  “Only enough to fuck, huh?”

  “Yeah, but not even that when it comes to you. And stop using my fucking spare to get in my crib. That’s for Jilly.”

  Brielle thought she was special because she was my stepsister. I knew that shit sounded nasty, but it wasn’t even all like that. I met her about a year before my pops met her mama, and she became one of my pussies in rotation. Somehow and some muthafuckin way, our parents ran into each other, hit it off, and ended up getting married.

  For a little bit, I continued to dick Brielle down, but after a while, the shit became weird to me, so I cut her ass off for the most part. Occasionally, I let her suck me up because I had yet to run across a bitch that sucked dick as good as she did. Brielle was nasty with the shit, which I loved, so when a nigga was in the mood for some top-notch dome, I let her handle it for me.

  In Brielle’s eyes, our parents had ruined some love affair that was blooming, but that shit couldn’t be further from the fucking truth. I never claimed her, never told her I loved her, and never spent a dime on the bitch. Only thing I did was stuff her with some dick here and there, and never even contemplated on making her more.

  “Why do you do this, Tony! All because I’m your stepsister? We’re not even bound by blood, and technically, I’m not your stepsister anymore.”

  Standing up to take my empty bowl to the sink, I replied, “It’s because of that, and because I just don’t want you like that. What I wanted you for, to suck my dick, I still get, so I’m good.”

  “This would have never happened this way had our parents not gotten married.” She rose up. “But we can try to go back to how it was. Your father is dead now, and—”

  Wrapping my hand around her neck, I slammed Brielle into the fridge, squeezing so fucking hard her eyes bulged. I was already irritated, and my pops had only been dead six months, so the shit was still a sore spot. A nigga ain’t have either of his parents, and though I wasn’t the sappy type, that shit still bothered me.

  “Bitch, I don’ already said I don’t want yo’ pitiful ass. Pull one more more muthafuckin tantrum and I swear to God I’ll body you. Whether my father is dead or alive, nothing about you or that subpar pussy could make me be yo’ nigga. You wanna die?” She shook her head as much as she could since she couldn’t breathe. “’Cause see how easy it would be for me to kill yo’ hard headed ass?” When she nodded, I dropped her.

  “Ton—”

  “Give me my key and get the fuck out.”

  Brielle dug into her jean pocket for my spare, pressed it in my hand, and then rushed out, still trying to catch her breath. I didn’t know why these females thought this shit was a muthafuckin game.

  Once Brielle was gone, I pocketed the check I was about to hand over, locked up the crib, chopped it up with a few of the old heads that were my neighbors, then dipped out.

  It didn’t take me long to end up at this space on King that I was looking to purchase. All the money I’d been saving by living humbly was finally about to be put to its intended fucking use.

  “Mr. Terranova?” A young black nigga reached his hand out to shake mine. Nigga couldn’t be older than thirty-five, but that hairline was gone.

  “Sup. You Keenan?” I wanted to make sure before I shook his hand. I knew his square ass wasn’t from ’round here, so he had to be the realtor, but you could never be too sure.

  “I am. How about we take a look around and—”

  “I’ve already looked around. I want it.”

  “I see. You must have toured when the previous owner was occupying this space.”

  Not quite; I’d broken in one night, but this nigga ain’t need to know that.

  “Something like that. But I wanna buy it right now. You told me $90,000 over the phone.”

  “That’s right. I would suggest giving that exactly and nothing less to secure the space. If the buyer sees—”

  “Got a check for $100,000 right here.” I pulled it from my pocket, and Keenan’s jaw dropped open slightly. “How soon can I start changing shit up?”

  “I assure you that I can have the keys to you by this Wednesday. Offering ten grand over asking will surely get this spot for you.”

  I checked my phone to see it was Monday, so I nodded.

  Keenan let me inside so we could sign some paperwork and told me he had to process everything plus run it by the buyer. He explained that the buyer would still have to agree, but he wouldn’t worry about that. I made sure Keenan understood that if the buyer didn’t okay everything, I was gon’ raise the roof off his fucking head with my .9.

  “Nice meeting you, Keenan, and don’t fuck this shit up.”

  “I promise I won’t, Mr. Terranova.”

  After dropping such a large ass amount, I knew I would have to re-up my stash, so I hit my plug as soon as I got in the fucking car.

  Wednesday…

  Hearing them fucking keys in my pocket and seeing my signature on all them damn documents had a nigga on one. And because Keenan had me feeling so confident, I’d ordered a bunch of music equipment to be installed by this Friday. I’d spent a lot of bread, but I knew it wouldn’t even amount to the money I’d be making fairly fucking soon. Shit, you had to spend money to make money.

  “I can’t wait to see this shit, man. No more renting studio time.” Eitan rubbed his hands together as he sat in my passenger seat.

  “Exactly; well, for you. It’s got a couple rooms and shit, so I’m gon’ rent those out to other muthafuckas.”

  “You know niggas gon’ be upset that you charging them for that shit. They gon’ feel like you doing yo’ ‘family’ dirty.”

  “I wish I gave a fuck.” I glanced at Eitan as I pulled onto the street the studio was located on. “And they won’t have a problem with paying if there’s a choppa in they muthafuckin face.”

  “You right.”

  “Like always.”

  We laughed in unison.

  As soon as I parked, I spotted a familiar, face, body, and mainly plump, round ass. There Camarih’s weirdo ass was in a light blue dress that was so tight I could see every crevice of her fucking body. Her golden curls were piled on top of her head, and her skin had this crazy ass glow to it. The dress she was rocking didn’t cover her shoulders, making them muthafuckas look supple as fuck. I licked my lips, knowing she tasted like butterscotch candy; shit, she looked like butterscotch candy.

  She was checking her nails, which I assumed she’d just gotten done since she was in front of a nail shop. I had never in my life witnessed a hoe that fine.

  “Nigga, you heard me?” Eitan interrupted my lustful thoughts. “Oh nah. You staring at Camarih.”

  Whipping my head in his direction, I asked, “How the fuck you know her?” If he had fucked, I was gon’ be hot. I didn’t know why I’d be hot, but a nigga would be. I could already feel my fist balling.

  “She’s that singer Prince’s girlfriend.”

  “His girlfriend or one of his hoes?” I knew I’d seen that punk ass nigga before when I was in Hong Kong.

  “Shit. I don’t know what he do behind closed doors, but I know to the media and the public, that’s his girl. She fine as hell.” Eitan looked on with me as she ran her mouth on the phone.

  “If she his girl, why she live in Leimert Park?” I felt my lids lower as I pondered.

  “Good question.” Eitan huffed. “You like her, huh?”

  “Nigga, what?” I frowned, glancing at him for a moment as he cackled. “I just wanna eat her pussy and dig her shit out doggy-style. Her songbird ass boyfriend can keep her.” I talked my shit, staring Camarih down some more.

  “Yep, that’s h
er.” Eitan showed me his phone screen, and on it was Camarih’s Instagram. Damn.

  “Oh, aight. Come on, nigga. I got shit to show you.” I tapped his chest, so he put his phone up before we got out of the car.

  My staring ass got caught, so when Camarih saw me, she waved all delicately with her sexy ass. I still remembered her scent: strawberries and whipped cream. Or maybe that was just what I wanted to eat off the crack of her ass.

  Keeping it cool, I nodded to say what’s up, making a huge grin cover her pretty ass face. Still on chill, I just looked away, leading Eitan inside of the one-story building.

  After showing him around, we went to get some food from a nearby fish spot, kicked it for a little bit, then went our separate ways.

  I showered, brushed my teeth, and then got dressed so I could make a quick drop off at this party. This actor nigga named Gerard had placed an order, and since he was someone I’d serviced frequently, I wasn’t worried.

  I never just took clients who hit me up. Anyone who got drugs from me had to be recommended, and there were only three muthafuckas I took recommendations from.

  I made it to the mansion in Beverly Hills about forty minutes later and was let in by security. Per usual, I entered through Gerard’s side gate, hitting him on my burner phone to let him know I was there.

  “Shit, my boy!” He greeted me out back a few minutes later.

  “You got my bread?” I ignored his handshake. We weren’t friends. I sold a product, and he liked to buy it; nothing more, nothing less.

  “Of course, man, damn.” He waved his assistant over who brought two gallon-sized Ziploc bags stuffed with neatly banded cash stacks.

  Like always, I sat down at one of the outside tables to count, and once I saw it was the right amount, I gave Gerard the product.

  “Be easy.” I turned to leave.

  “Wacko, why you don’t wanna have a drink or something? It’s plenty of women here, and bad ones at that.”

  I wasn’t in the mood to fuck any of my usual hoes, and the one bitch I did wanna hit surely wasn’t about to give it up tonight, so I obliged.