She was fucking Desireé like a man. In fact, Meka was sexing her better than a man. She herself was a woman so she knew exactly how to stroke her and what spots to hit. It wasn’t long before Desireé was lost in a labyrinth of lust. She began throwing her ass back wildly as she vice gripped the sheets and bit into the pillow in between her ecstatic screams. “Yeah, yeah, yeah! Harder! Harder! Hardeeeer! Fuck meeee!” she screamed out. This was their first sexual encounter and Meka was determined to do just that. Fuck her…into submission; until she begged her to stop! It always brought a smile to Meka’s face whenever she was able to make her sexual partners tap out. She needed them to understand who was in control.
Mid-stroke, Desireé dropped flat onto her stomach with her legs still spread and began to shake violently. With her toes curled and her eyes tightly shut, she rode the wave of her first orgasm. But the tremors didn’t stop. She kept cumming; over and over. Lost in the indescribable bliss of her first ever multiple orgasm Desireé was speechless. Meka slowly pulled the dildo out and took it off. Then she placed a manicured finger inside of her lover’s tight asshole, intensifying the pleasurable sensations that were already rippling through her beautiful chocolate body. By the time Meka was done with Desireé, she was curled up on the bed asleep with her thumb in her mouth like a newborn baby.
CHAPTER 5
The rich aroma of a home cooked breakfast assaulted Meka’s nostrils as she awoke the next morning. She yawned, and then used her index finger and thumb to clear cold from the corners of her eyes. Still half asleep, the smell emanating from Desireé’s kitchen had her stomach doing somersaults. She didn’t know exactly what was being cooked, but it damn sure smelled good!
Meka leaned over the side of the bed and reached into her designer purse, searching for her “medicine”. It wasn’t prescribed by any doctor, but it damn sure helped her calm her nerves and function properly. Ironically, she kept her “medicine” in an old pill bottle. She found the bottle, popped the top and within minutes she had a blunt rolled up full of that good exotic shit. Meka lit it up, took a deep pull and exhaled a cloud full of stress into the air. Her morning ritual had started.
Minutes later, Desireé sashayed into the smoke filled bedroom. She had on a short silk robe that was fully open, exposing a body that looked as if it could have been crafted by the gods. Small, but firm breasts, a flat stomach and long toned legs that seemed to stretch on for weeks. She had a tray full of hot food in her neatly manicured hands. Sausages, bacon, a cheese egg omelet, pancakes, toast and a glass of fresh, cold orange juice was on the menu this morning.
Meka sat up in the bed and let the satin sheet slide down her chest, exposing her D-cup breasts as she continued to smoke. She watched Desireé as she sat the tray down in front of her then went over to the windows and opened the blinds. The late morning sunlight entered the room like an unwanted guest. Meka had experienced a lot of things within the short amount of time she had been fucking with other females; but breakfast in bed? This was a first! She must’ve really fucked this girl’s head up. Meka laughed to herself as she put her blunt out and began to dig into the scrumptious meal that had been prepared for her. “Ummm… Damn Desi! I ain’t know yo’ ass could throw down in the kitchen like this girl,” Meka said, between bites.
Desireé sat down on the edge of the bed and crossed her long legs. Her pert breasts were fully exposed as she spoke. “Well, it’s been a while since I had a reason to really cook like this, but after last night… I don’t know. Last night was special. I just felt like making you feel as special as you made me feel.” She had a soft voice.
“Oh, you liked how I made you feel last night?” asked Meka rhetorically. She already had the answer to her question on a platter right in front of her. She still needed to hear Desireé say it out of her own mouth though. She stopped eating and looked at Desireé expectantly, waiting for a reply.
Desireé looked deeply into Meka’s eyes before she responded. She wanted her to understand how sincere she was as the word “yes” resonated from her lips.
After first seducing Desireé’s mind, it was inevitable that her body would soon follow. And last night it had. Satisfied with her answer and the complete submission she heard in Desireé’s voice Meka went back to eating her breakfast. Her early morning smoke session had her devouring the food in front of her while she and her new lover made small talk. After she was finished, she wiped her mouth with a napkin and handed the tray of empty plates back to Desireé. She took it and left the room.
As soon as she was gone, Meka lit back up and reached for her cell phone. She turned it on and immediately realized something was wrong. She had twenty seven missed calls. About fifteen of them were from her brother. Some were from a few of the girls that she fucked with, or that were trying to holler at her. And a couple of the numbers she didn’t recognize at all.
She immediately called Ant to see what the fuck was going on. He answered on the first ring. “Meka, where the fuck you at? You alright?!” The concern in his voice was noticeable. Especially since Ant wasn’t one to openly display his feelings.
“Yeah, I’m good,” she replied, still wondering what would make her brother call her so many times like that. “What’s going on?”
“What’s going on?! If yo’ ass woulda answered yo’ muh’fuckin phone then you would know what the fuck goin’ on! You wit’ some nigga or some shit?” he asked jealously.
“Look Ant, it’s too damn early in the morning for all this. Yo’ ass is really blowin’ my high wit’ all that extra shit! You know damn well I aint wit’ no nigga. Now, you finna tell me why you was blowing my phone up or what?” she stated with an attitude.
Ant contemplated checking his sister again about not answering her phone but he knew it would be a waste of time. “They got Mike!” he yelled angrily into his sister’s ear.
Meka sat straight up in the bed. “They what?! What you mean they got Mike? Who? When?”
“I mean they shot him and Nikki the fuck up yesterday. That’s what I mean. Downtown, in broad daylight! It musta been like right after that nigga left the house and shit. Mont, from the Manor was tellin’ me ‘bout that shit early this mornin’. I made a few calls and err’body sayin’ the same shit—“
“Him and Nikki still alive, ain’t it?” interrupted Meka, deeply disturbed by what she was hearing. Though they didn’t share the same blood, they’d been through so much real shit together over the years that Meka considered Mike more than just a homey. He was like a brother from another mother.
“That’s the thing. I don’t even know. Last I heard, they was both at Memorial in critical. I been hollerin’ at a few bitches that I know work at the hospital and shit but ain’t nan one of ‘em got back at me yet wit’ no info.” Ant took a line to the head.
“Who you think–” Meka couldn’t even finish her sentence.
“C’mon Meka! You already know what it is! That fuck nigga Zulu tryna get back at niggas for Twan. Well fuck that nigga and his pussy ass nephew! One thangs fo’ sure and two thangs fo’ certain: Ant D ain’t never been no pussy! So I damn sure ain’t finna lay around and wait to get fucked! That nigga’s dead!” Sniff.
“Ant, you talkin’ real reckless over this phone right now,” stated Meka. It was no secret in the streets that cell phones could be tapped just as easily nowadays as a land line, maybe easier.
“Fuck that! I don’t give a fuck who listening! First that shit that went down wit’ you and now this?! Naw… that nigga Zulu got shit fucked up. That nigga must be thinkin’ he MC Hammer and can’t be touched or some shit. Im’a show his monkey ass. I’ma show him.” Sniff. Ant kept issuing not so idle threats over the phone, unconcerned with who might be listening in.
Meka sighed. There was really no reasoning with her brother when he was all excited and geeked up off that coke like he obviously was right now. She wanted to know more details about what had happened to Mike and Nikki, but right now wasn’t the time. Right now, she just needed to get An
t the fuck off the phone. “Look Ant, where you at?” she asked, interrupting his tirade.
“Huh? Oh, I’m over Mama’s house. Why?” he asked.
“She know what happened to Mike yet?”
“Naw, I ain’t told her. I ain’t want Mama worrying and shit. You know how she is. Plus, when I couldn’t get a hold of yo’ ass earlier this mornin’ I was stressed. I was thinkin that somethin’ had happened to you again. I was finna go crazy and just start shootin’ up anythang movin’ out this bitch!” said Ant.
Meka knew her brother was serious. She wasn’t exactly sure how many people he had murdered over the years but she did know he wouldn’t hesitate to do it—especially when it came to her. “Look Ant. I’m ok. Just calm down–”
“Calm down?! Calm down?! Fuck you mean calm down? My dog layin’ up in a fuckin’ hospital dying and shit and you talkin’ ‘bout calm down?” Ant asked incredulously. “And on top of that, ain’t no tellin’ what this fuck nigga Zulu got up his sleeve next! I’m tellin’ you, ann nigga look at me funny it’s on!” Ant exclaimed, breathing heavily.
“Nigga, just chill the fuck out at mama’s house. And don’t tell her nothin’. I’ll be there in a minute,” Meka said as she pressed the end button on her cell phone.
Desireé had walked back into the bedroom at the tail end of the conversation so she wasn’t completely aware of what was going on but she had heard enough to know that something was seriously wrong. She watched as Meka hurriedly got dressed. “Meka? Meka, what’s wrong? Is there something I can do?” she asked pleadingly, only to be met with silence.
This was a family matter. Meka had absolutely no intentions whatsoever of discussing not even the most insignificant of details with a girl she had known for only a few weeks. So she continued to ignore her inquiries. Fully dressed and on her way out of the bedroom Meka just happened to glance at the digital clock on the nightstand beside the bed. 12:15pm… She stopped dead in her tracks and thought for a second. “Where’s the remote?!” she asked Desireé.
Desireé looked completely perplexed. “The remote?”
Meka gave Desireé a look like she was fucking retarded. “Did yo’ ass ride the short bus to school or some shit? Yeah Desi, the fuckin’ remote! The shit you turn the television on wit’?!” said Meka, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Where is it?!” she yelled.
Desireé wasn’t used to Meka talking to her like that. The aggressive tone of her voice quickly brought Desireés ass back to her senses and she frantically began to look for the remote. Unwilling to wait, Meka said fuck it and impatiently walked over to the T.V. that sat atop the black lacquer dresser and turned it on. She flipped from channel to channel until she stumbled upon a news conference that was already in progress…
“…At approximately four a.m., we received an anonymous tip alerting us to the whereabouts of four persons who might have been involved in the terrible incident that took place Downtown yesterday. We immediately procured a search warrant and proceeded to execute it. Upon the execution of said warrant we found four black men in what appears to be a drug stash house in the Pleasant Valley neighborhood. Along with a substantial quantity of drugs, a small arsenal of guns was also retrieved from the residence. We have good reason to believe these weapons were used in the shooting that transpired yesterday. I’d like to give thanks to the brave individual who called in with that tip and helped us get these violent animals, guns and drugs off the streets. You have my personal gratitude for making our city a safer place today. I’d also like to give credit to our newly formed anti-crime task force for their speedy response and professionalism in taking these guys down.” Flanking Sherriff William (Bill) Taylor to the left and to his right were other high ranking officers and also some of the detectives that were involved in the early morning raid. Looking on from behind the Sherriff was the Mayor of Greenville, Bob White and a few key members of his staff. Everybody broke out into applause.
“...And so this afternoon, I am very pleased to announce that we have taken into custody Travis Blackwell, Gregory Moon, Latrell Michaels and Darnell Stewart in relation to the shooting that took place yesterday.” As the Sherriff spoke each man’s name, their mug shot was simultaneously displayed across the television screen. They all had a look of anger and bewilderment on their faces, like they had just been snatched out of bed. “Each individual is being charged with the following: possession of cocaine with the intent to distribute, unlawful possession of a firearm and two counts of murder in the first degree. We believe, based upon substantial evidence that these four men are responsible for the fatal shooting that occurred early yesterday afternoon,” Sheriff Taylor stated. He stood on the steps of 20 McGee St., his chest inflated with self-righteous pride as he looked into the cameras and made this announcement. The vast concrete compound of the Greenville County Detention Center stood ominously in the background as he continued to speak.
Cameras from all of the local networks were capturing this exclusive news conference and broadcasting it live. Thousands of residents all over the Upstate sat transfixed to their televisions as the news broke. Shootings happened all the time in Greenville, but the audacity of someone to open fire in broad daylight in the heart of the city still had many residents in shock. And two counts of first degree murder meant that both of the victims had died. Didn’t it?! This was the biggest story to hit the city the entire year. Reporters were all over it… like flies on shit.
There was a plethora of journalists at the scene. All of them had their arms extended with tape recorders in their hands, as they shouted out questions and jockeyed for position. Everybody was clamoring to catch an exclusive piece of this juicy story. This was the type of story journalists ejaculated in their dreams about. It could make their career.
Among the many reporters who were on the scene was News 4’s Jennifer Henderson. But she was finding it hard to buy the story the Sherriff was trying to sell, for some reason. Maybe it was her naturally suspicious mind. Or maybe everything about this case just seemed a little bit too convenient. A little bit too perfect. The police just happened to get an anonymous tip? And this tip just happened to lead to the arrest of four men who were all in a house together with a large cache of guns and drugs at the same time? It was a possible, but highly improbable scenario in Jennifer’s mind. She had only been an investigative reporter for a short period of time, but she knew that when something seemed too good to be true, it usually was. Two plus two was four, but she kept coming up with five here. Jennifer had a feeling that there was a lot more to this story.
The Sherriff made a few more comments in praise of his office for the great job they had done. He was doing damage control. Over the past several months, the Sherriff’s office had faced a constant barrage of negative publicity from Ralph Flemming (head of the local NAACP) for their inability, or unwillingness to solve crimes where blacks were the victims. The national media had also picked up the story and Flemming had been milking the exposure for his own political purposes.
“Maybe this’ll shut that nigger Flemming’s fucking pie hole for a while,” whispered Mayor White into the ear of his top assistant. The Sherriff took a few questions from the press. He then turned the conference over to Mayor White so he could also bask in the positive press associated with the bust. After all… it was election season. The mayor could definitely use a boost in popularity if he planned on getting re-elected. And a lot of people needed him back in office… for various reasons.
Meka had seen enough of this fucking circus. It was all just politics, as usual. Nobody gave a fuck about the lives that were lost or the families who had to bury them. She turned her back on the television and whatever bullshit the mayor was talking about and bolted from Desireés house with tears beginning to well up in her eyes. She managed to hold them back as she hopped into her custom painted, pink Range Rover Sport and sped out of the driveway. Desireé was left standing in the doorway in her silk kimono as the smell of burnt rubber filled her nostrils.
&nbs
p; CHAPTER 6
“Aaaaaaaah!!! The piercing scream of the man lying naked on the concrete slab didn’t sound entirely human and was loud enough to be heard miles away. And probably would have been… if the walls to the room he was confined to weren’t underground as well as soundproof. Each limb of his naked body was strapped to a corner of the concrete slab that sat in the center of a large, dank basement. “Por favor, por favor! Yo estoy pidiendo que dejes! Te dire’ lo que quieras saber! Lojuro porla vida de mis hijos!” The man pleaded in his native tongue. The language of pain was one that was universal. His body was drenched with sweat. Fear emanated from his pores and saturated the air with its stench as a piece of skin was slowly peeled from his calf.
Anything for Profit 2: Nothing to Lose Page 4
