Around the Way Girls

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Around the Way Girls Page 10

by Karen Williams Chunichi


  Tameka giggled

  “But the bottom line is this—You don’t look better than me, and her body ain’t better than mine.” I was slapping one hand into the other when I said that. “And that is why she is jealous of me. I got the beauty and the confidence. I can walk into a room, and it could have twenty Beyoncé’s in there, and the niggas would still want me. That’s why that bitch actin’ funny. When we was at Murder’s house, all the niggas were on me.” I started moving in my seat excitedly as I talked.

  “Murder was licking my clit in front of his girl, Gutter was drooling, and Li’l Murder was sticking his finger all up in my pussy.” I didn’t really know who was doing what, to tell the truth, but you know I had to put extras on it.

  “What, girl?”

  “Really, girl.”

  “Oh shit. We almost passing up our stop.” Tameka pressed the button.

  After we hopped off the bus, I continued to talk shit about Danada, about her bumpy-ass skin, how she’s behind a lot of lip-gloss, probably got a loose pussy.

  All Tameka kept saying was, “Yep!” and giggling.

  I was so happy we made it to Murder’s house. Niggas and females were outside. The living room was packed too. Niggas were grinding on women.

  But the real fun was in the bedroom. That’s where Gutter and Li’l Murder were, and they were blowing serious trees.

  “What’s up, y’all?” I said, walking in the room and snapping my finger to Mack 10’s “Backyard Boogie.”

  Li’l Murder said, “Hey.”

  “Shit, this where the real party is!” I exclaimed.

  Li’l Murder passed a blunt to me. “Go slow with that, li’l girl.”

  “I ain’t no little fuckin’ girl!” I was eyeing Gutter to make sure he hadn’t heard what Li’l Murder had said. His eyes were so hooded, he didn’t respond.

  “Who your friend?” Li’l Murder asked.

  “Tameka.”

  “Hey, y’all,” she said, acting shy.

  I took a long puff, waving one of my hands in the air to the music.

  “You like to have a good time, huh, shorty?” Li’l Murder said to me.

  “Yep.” I wanted Gutter to say that shit, but that nigga was on the floor doing “the Crip walk.”

  I passed the weed to Tameka, and she took a long drag before handing it back to me. Then I handed it back to Li’l Murder. There was some Hennessy in the room, so I sipped on some of that.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Trina, Murder’s woman, slip past the bed. Her eyes bored into me again like the other day, and she left the room. I smirked.

  Murder walked in the room. He was faded and grooved through the door.

  As the minutes flew, I became so faded, I was doing the “stankin’ leg” like I was in one of them videos.

  Gutter said to me, “Aye, I always wanted to know how to do that. How it go?”

  I tried not to blush and showed him. “It’s easy, see.” I did it slowly, so he got it.

  Then after he tried, I speeded my leg up to the rhythm. “You drop and push your legs out.”

  He was too fucking high to get it, and we ended up falling on the floor, laughing.

  Then they had the nerve to play “T Shirt and Panties” by Adina Howard.

  I screamed, “Awww!” and stood up from the floor . “This my shit, y’all. Tameka, you heard this before? My daddy’s girl gets up every Sunday and blasts that song, but the bitch tee shirt be having holes in it, and her drawers be having shit stains on them.”

  They all laughed.

  Tameka said, “This my mama song.”

  I started singing it and twisting my body. “T-shirt and my panties on, waiting for you,” I sang. I grinded up and down and did a come-hither finger to Gutter, who fell back on the couch, seriously faded.

  The more I moved, the more Li’l Murder’s eyes were on me, as were Gutter’s.

  “Come on, girl.” I motioned to Tameka. But I guess she was satisfied standing in the background.

  My hands went up and down my thighs, and I crouched over, so my butt leaned out. “Waiting for you.” I winked at Gutter, my hands on my sides and rocking my hips up and down.

  Gutter licked his lips at me.

  That’s when I felt it. My stomach started suddenly doing spasms, and salty saliva filled my mouth. I placed my hands over my mouth and ran out the room in search of the bathroom. Once I found it, I dropped to my knees and hurled the Hennessy and bits of food I had earlier for lunch into the toilet.

  As I sat there with my head hung over the toilet, all I was thinking about was how childish Gutter was gonna think I was that I couldn’t hold some fucking drink down.

  After a few minutes, I started to feel better. I flushed the toilet and stood to my feet. I rinsed my mouth out and splashed some water on my face. Then I dried it with the towel they had hanging up on the door. I looked okay though. I was still fly.

  I went back inside the bedroom, expecting to go back to the party, the music, the weed and drank—although I wasn’t gonna drink no more—and the dancing. But gone was the music, gone was the weed and drink, and nobody was dancing anymore. Instead, I found Gutter, Li’l Murder, and Murder seated around the room, holding their dicks in their hands.

  Tameka was still in the room too, looking at her cell phone, like she was distracted.

  How you distracted with three big dicks in the room? “What happened to the party?” I asked nervously.

  “Shit! The party right here,” Li’l Murder said.

  Both Gutter and Li’l Murder were putting on condoms, while Murder just sat there staring at me.

  “Huh?” I looked around, confused.

  My heart was thudding in my chest.

  Li’l Murder said, “Well, Danada told me you wanted to be put on Eastside Crip.”

  I’d never told Danada that, but I said, “I do.” I glanced over at Tameka’s ass, now hiding in the corner.

  “Well, you ready to be jumped on?” Li’l Murder asked.

  “You can party like this all the time,” Gutter said. “We always gonna have your back. If you need a place to crash for however long, we got you. If you need us to slice or pop somebody, we got you. We even got a name for you.”

  “What is it?”

  “Naw,” Gutter said. “We can’t tell you that until you agree to be put on. We ain’t gotta waste our time doing this shit either.” He stroked his dick. “We doin’ you a favor.”

  “So how ’bout it?” Lil Murder asked. “You wit’ it?”

  “Yeah, okay.” I wanted to impress Gutter with my ability to make quick decisions, but I was really scared as fuck.

  I was wondering if I had to have sex with Murder as well. And, if I didn’t, why did he have his horse dick out? And why didn’t he put on a condom?

  “Well, let’s go, baby,” Li’l Murder yelled. “Get them clothes off and get that pussy in the air.”

  Tameka gasped as I stripped to my bra and panties.

  “Everything,” Murder commanded.

  I took it all off until I was standing in front of them ass buck-naked. I hoped the other people partying outside and in the living room didn’t slip into the room.

  “Go ’head, Big Homie. You get it first.” Li’l Murder held out his hand for Murder.

  Murder slapped it away, mumbling, “I don’t fuck with those.”

  Before I could move, Murder grabbed me by my neck and swung me to the ground, all the while his hands on my neck, and I hit the floor with a thud. He yanked me up until I was on my knees, and my hands rested on the floor, to stop myself from falling on my face.

  I screamed out in pain as his dick penetrated my pussy, busting my cherry.

  Yes. Aside from the butt-fucking Otis had given me when I was twelve, I was still a virgin. And I didn’t envision losing my virginity this way. I wanted it to be Gutter and me kissing, and then him sucking my titties, going slowly and gently, while we listened to Keyshia Cole.

  Murder grabbed my hair and yanked m
e back all the way so his dick had full entry into me each time he pulled in.

  All of a sudden, Tha Dogg Pound blasted the room with “If We All Fuc.” Only, this time I wasn’t so hyped to dance.

  “I love young-ass pussy!” Murder grunted.

  I glanced up and saw Gutter and Li’l Murder standing over me. Gutter threw up the Eastside Crip gang sign, and Li’l Murder was blowing smoke out of his mouth.

  I whimpered.

  Murder jammed into me. “Shut up, bitch! You wanted to be put on, take this big dick!”

  I shut up, mashing my fist into the floor, ’cause he was hurting me like no other. He kept pumping and pumping. I wondered if Tameka was still in the room.

  I closed my eyes as I felt him bite the side of my neck. His pumping got even harder, if you can imagine. He slammed into me so hard, I slipped out from under him and fell forward.

  “Come here, bitch!” He snatched me by my hair and put his dick back into me. Then he slapped the back of my head. “You gonna fuck around and make a nigga lose his nut. A bitch that gives Murder blue balls is a bitch with her muthafuckin’ head blown off. Now back that pussy up.”

  I did as he said. Then his legs started to shake. Then a hot fluid shot into my pussy.

  He struggled against me, holding on for a second, breathing heavily. Then he shoved me away and yelled, “Trina!”

  I kept my head down, embarrassed when she walked in the room. I could feel her eyes bore into me.

  Murder told her, “Go get me a towel.”

  That’s when Li’l Murder came behind me.

  Murder wiped his dick then handed the towel back to Trina. He yelled out, “Man, you hittin’ that pussy like you a bitch. What the fuck you makin’ love to that ho for, boy?” He added, “Get back, bitch!”

  That made Li’l Murder get rougher with me than his father was. He gripped my neck as he stroked me from the same position his father had placed me in.

  “Get that pussy, boy!” Murder yelled.

  Nothing about this felt good. Because I wasn’t getting no enjoyment from it. Is that what sex was about? Were men always this brutal to a woman? Why did women like sex then?

  Even when Gutter sat down in a chair and pulled me on his lap so that my back was to him and he was gripping my shoulders so that I was bouncing up and down his dick, I was too ashamed to look at anybody in the room. I didn’t even know if Tameka ass was even in there.

  Then Li’l Murder shoved his dick in my face, and thick, yellow fluid splashed in my eyes and all over my face. I kept my mouth closed for fear some of it would go inside.

  “Move, nigga!” Gutter yelled. “You had your turn.”

  Li’l Murder laughed and moved away.

  A few moments later, Gutter bent me over and was humping me.

  I grimaced at the force of his thrust and prayed that this would soon be over and I would officially be a part of Eastside Crips. I would be one bad bitch. More powerful than Danada, that’s for sure. And I would party so much that when it would be time for school, I would be ’sleep.

  Abruptly, Gutter shoved me to the floor. He then snatched me up to my knees, so I was facing his dick. He slid off his condom and flung it to the floor then he took one hand and jerked his dick while holding the back of my head.

  I tried not to gag as fluid shot directly into my face, and then they were done.

  Chapter 7

  The bus ride home was a little rough for me. For starters, the experience I had wasn’t something to treasure. I had heard of what I did before. I let them run a train on me. I remember being in school and hearing about girls who had let niggas do stuff like that to them. Or even some dumb girls who took naked pics of themselves and had it sent from phone to phone. Or even up on some Web sites like ConcreteLoop, Necole Bitchie, or MediaTakeOut. I was glad that shit didn’t happen to me, and this was as far as it went.

  My legs were completely sore. I knew blood had to be still leaking from out my vagina. When I went into the bathroom to change, I stuffed some tissue in my panties. Before I even got the chance to throw my clothes back on, Tameka had split, leaving me to catch the bus alone. Oh well. The bitch was probably hating because they chose me and not her to be put on Eastside.

  When I made it to my house, I saw Rhonda and her drunk, ghetto-ass friend sitting on the couch. She gave me a dirty look and put one of her fingers to her lips when I walked through the door. Her friend was on the phone. I hoped she didn’t think I was going to say hi to her bitch ass.

  I turned my mouth to one side and went into the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of cherry Kool-Aid Rhonda had drowned in sugar. I sipped it while listening to her friend talk.

  “Hi. Yes, this is Lyneta Carlton. My son Remy Carlton is detained there.” She paused. “Well, I was calling to make sure that my son didn’t get his haircut. See, it is tied to his religion. Mm-hmm.”

  My eyes narrowed as she talked.

  “See, Remy, made a vow to God that he would always keep his hair and never cut it off. Mm-hmm.”

  Whatever the person said made Lyneta smile. “Oh in the name of Jesus, thank you. My whole church prayed about this. It was his vow to God, and we needed him to keep it. Well, God bless you. Bye.”

  I shook my head because as soon as she ended the call, she guzzled down some Thunderbird she had sitting in her lap. Her broke ass couldn’t afford anything else. And the last time I checked, the bitch didn’t go to church.

  She high-fived Rhonda. “My son is a gangsta. They ain’t cutting them braids. I been growing them since he was a baby.”

  I walked back in the living room.

  “Why you walking so funny? You look like you just finished getting gang-banged.” Rhonda’s no-teeth-having ass busted up laughing, almost spilling her drink.

  “Don’t fucking worry about it, you fucking crackhead!”

  She just laughed. “Yep. She got gang-banged. I can tell. I don’t give a fuck, ’cause all you gonna be is a little ho anyway. So don’t think you gonna come to me for the birds-and-the-bees talk, or for some fuckin’ sympathy. And I sure as hell ain’t taking you to the abortion clinic when you get knocked up. County will give us more money and food stamps if you have it.”

  I stalked up to her with my hands on my hips. “Don’t get it twisted, bitch! I’m not gonna ruin my life like you ruined yours.”

  “Your life already ruined. The moment the nut was busted to make you.”

  Rhonda took a pull from her pipe before speaking again. She was the most functional crackhead I had ever seen. She never lost weight, and the bitch was always hungry. She had smoked so much crack, it seemed like it didn’t get her high anymore. Her face always stayed the same. It was like she was smoking a cigarette.

  “Just like your crackhead mama. Nobody.”

  “Yeah, whatever. Fuck you! ’Cause this Eastside Crip!”

  Rhonda and her friend took one look at each other and cracked up at me like I was doing standup comedy.

  “Oh, you gang-banging now?”

  “What if the fuck I am?”

  Rhonda looked at how serious my face was.

  “You are one fuckin’ dumb-ass kid. Y’all go out in the line of fire, and your ass will be the first one to be shot. And, to be honest, I really wouldn’t give a fuck, except we gotta pay these bills some way.” She pressed her palms together. “So tell me something, Diamond. How many niggas did you have to screw?”

  “What the fuck you talking about?”

  She lifted up her shirt. “I’m from Eastside, dumb-ass. I’m an O.G. And you don’t look like you got down. Oh wait. You don’t look like you fought, so you probably did get down—down on your knees!”

  Lyneta snickered.

  My eyes widened at the tat on her saggy left titty. I had never heard of Rhonda being a gang-banger. Never. And in all my years of growing up, the only people I seen her congregate with were crackheads.

  “And I been claiming that hood since I was seventeen. I get so sick of little pretty hoes lik
e you, sleeping your way into my hood, thinking that putting in work for the hood is fuckin’ every damn nigga from the hood.”

  “Fuck both of y’all,” I mumbled, walking toward my room.

  Lyneta said, “Yeah, you may of got jumped in, but you slept with most of the niggas from the hood, Rhonda.”

  “Bitch, shut the fuck up!”

  The funny part about being put on Eastside was the fact that nothing felt any different to me. Well, except the fact that wherever I went, people kept staring at me. Then I figured out why. And it had nothing to do with being from Eastside Crip.

  I was sitting in my computer class when I noticed half the students in the class had out their cell phones, and they wouldn’t stop looking from me to their phones. People that normally spoke to me wouldn’t. What the fuck was going on?

  I continued working on my assignment, although the teacher was half-’sleep.

  Then I heard one dude who sat across from me yell, “Aye, send that shit to me!”

  A few moments later, I heard him laugh and sing, “And if he fuck, then we all gon’ fuck.”

  I ran over to his desk and snatched his iPhone out of his hand. That’s when my heart stopped. It was a video of me last night at Murder’s house. And they had that shit, me fucking Murder, Li’l Murder, and Gutter, all on their cell phones.

  Chapter 8

  I tried to get out of staying at school by going to the nurse and saying I needed to go home, but without a parent picking me up, I was stuck there. So I lay in the nurse’s office for two periods. Then I spent the rest of the school day in the bathroom. But everywhere I went, someone was either staring, winking, or snickering at me.

  I was relieved when school was over. I rushed out of the gates. I wondered who did that shit to me, set me up like that. It had to be Tameka. That was one trifling-ass bitch. I sure wanted to whip her jealous ass.

  I didn’t know how I was going to show my face at school again. I figured I could ask my dad to put me in Poly High School because there was no way I was going back there. And if he didn’t let me go to another school, I wasn’t going back. Fuck that shit.

 

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