Changed Man

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Changed Man Page 8

by Roy Glenn


  “I missed you too,” I said, and we waited for my bags. Once I had them, we went to her apartment and she showed me, in no uncertain terms, how much she missed me.

  As soon as we got through the door of her apartment, Michaella was stepping out of those fuck me pumps and peeling off her sexy dress. Her long legs looked as fantastic as her ass as she turned and gave me a look that said, follow me.

  Michaella came to pick me up to get fucked and I had no plan to put up a fight because her skills were extraordinary.

  And she intended to prove it again.

  I followed her to the bed and kissed her as she stripped my clothes off. Michaella reached out to grab my head and pulled me closer to her. She was warm and soft, her skin was smooth, her plump and hard brown nipples sat up for me to suck on. I grabbed and squeezed her round tits as she moaned.

  Her pelvis bumped against mine as she gyrated beneath me as if she were begging me to put it in and fuck her. But it had been nearly two months since I’d seen her. I did miss being with her and I wanted to take my time. So, I ignored her unspoken request to slam it in and fuck her deep and hard until she begged me to stop.

  I sucked her beautiful tits, kissed her stomach before parting her lips and sucking on her clit while I fingered her. I took my time tonguing her lips because Michaella tasted so good. I sucked her clit gently, while sliding my fingers back and forth over her spot. She came in my mouth while screaming my name. I came up to her to kiss her.

  “Taste your cum.”

  Michaella sucked greedily on my lips and at my tongue. She grabbed my dick and stroked it while we kissed.

  “I need this dick in me now,” Michaella demanded.

  It was rock hard when I slammed into her, lifting her legs to my forearms so that she could feel all of me inside of her warmth. Her wet walls gripped me.

  “Don’t stop hitting my spot,” she pleaded with me. Michaella had good pussy, so I had absolutely no intention on stopping.

  I held onto her ankles, spread her legs wider and plunged deeper. She began moaning, squirming and winding her hips. Michaella was so beautiful, so I enjoyed looking at her while I fucked her. Her eyes were closed, and her sexy lips were parted in passion.

  “Get your pussy, Mike.”

  Her voice was soft and sexy, her pussy was so soft and wet, that shit made my dick harder and I pounded that pussy furiously. Michaella was taking every inch of me deep inside her warmth, but now she was screaming.

  “Imma cum!”

  I kept sliding my dick back and forth, hitting her spot repeatedly. “Cum all over this dick!”

  After she stopped shaking, Michaella told me to get on my back. She jumped on top, planting her feet on the mattress and slid down on my dick. Her timing, her rhythm, her wetness, her tightness and warmth worked me over. Her sex was amazing.

  Michaella enjoyed it too.

  Smiling before crying out when her own game got too good for her. Leaning forward, Michaella kissed me without missing a beat and I grabbed her firm ass as it bounced. Slamming it down so hard that the sound of our flesh filled the room.

  That’s when I felt it, and as much as I wanted to fight it, she had me where she wanted me and since we’d been fucking for so long, she knew it too. She jumped off of me, kneeling over me and took me into her mouth to finish me off as I came.

  In the morning, Michaella dropped me off at my apartment on her way to work. Since my flight arrived late that night and I fucked Michaella most of the morning, I burned one and went to sleep.

  When I woke up the next afternoon, I could hear Bobby in the living room along with female voices. I got out of bed and after I went to the bathroom, I went into my living room to find that Bobby and four women were there.

  “What’s up, Bob?”

  “Welcome back, Mike.”

  One of the women was naked, another one had just a thong and her heels on, but they both were dancing for Bobby. The third one was sitting on the couch naked next to him smoking a bong. The fourth one was fully dressed, sitting in a chair by herself, looking bored by it all and watching TV.

  “It’s about time you woke up,” she said and stood up. She stepped out of her heels and then she took a few steps toward me. “I’m, Sexy.”

  “Yes, you are very sexy,” I said as she began undressing in front of me.

  “How was your trip?” Bobby asked.

  “It was a good trip.”

  “Should have been great as long as your ass was gone. Glad to have you back, Mike.”

  “Glad to be back.”

  “I heard a lot about you … Vicious Black,” Sexy said.

  “Have you?”

  “I have,” she said as the last of her clothes dropped in a pile at my feet. Now that she was naked, she eased her hand in mine and led me to my bedroom. The one on the couch that was passing the bong with Bobby, handed it back to him and stood up.

  “I need to get in there before that bitch fucks around and gets all that dick before I get any,” I heard her say.

  I stopped and turned around. “No chance of that happening,” I said to her and took them both to bed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Later that night, I rode with Bobby to drop the women off. Sexy sat in my lap, grinding her ass on my dick until she got out of the car. I shut the door and Bobby started the car.

  “What’s going on that you and Wanda ain’t telling me?”

  Bobby just looked at me and then he put the car in drive.

  “Thanks for sending Michaella to pick me up.”

  “Don’t thank me, it was all her idea. You know Wanda was dying to come with me to pick you up.”

  “So, what you been keeping Wanda from telling me?”

  “Dominick and some of his people were hanging out in a few of our spots.”

  “Dominick who?” I asked and hoped he wouldn’t say Crazy Nicky.

  “Crazy Nicky.”

  “And you didn’t think that was something I needed to know about?”

  Dominick ‘Crazy Nicky’ Spartanna and his partner, Johnny Boy DiLeonardo were a couple of hijackers that made their rep as hit men. They called them the Murder Twins. I had heard that he was looking to move into gambling, so him sizing us up wasn’t good.

  Not good at all.

  “If something had come of it, I would have told you about it. But nothing happened.”

  “When was this?”

  “They started like a week or two after you were gone, and kept coming every night gambling for a week,” Bobby said, and I wondered if they knew I was gone.

  “You talk to Angee about it?”

  “No, I didn’t talk to that Ginny bastard.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because they stopped coming.”

  “Why’d they stop?”

  “I don’t know, Mike. I didn’t ask them to come, so I didn’t ask them why they stopped.”

  I laughed a nervous laugh. “Did Wanda talk to Angee?”

  “No. She wanted to, but she didn’t want to go alone, and I wasn’t even thinking about going with her.”

  I said nothing, but I was thinking; thinking of all the reasons that he would suddenly stop coming, but could only come up with one.

  “You think they’re getting ready to come at us?”

  “That’s what I thought, and if they had, I would have called you. But they didn’t come, and now it’s been weeks, and nobody seen them since.”

  “Did you tell Andre about it?” I asked because I knew that Andre has had an arrangement with Carmine Abandonato, the underboss of The Curcio Family for years.

  “Nope. And if I did, he’d just say that was our shit and still expect his money.”

  It didn’t make sense.

  “So, you gonna tell me or you gonna make me ask?”

  “Ask what?”

  “What happened with you and your pops?”

  “He didn’t remember my mother.”

  “Oh,” was all Bobby said and he said nothing else about it.<
br />
  We arrived at The Late Night and it felt good to be there. When I got to the office, Wanda was there. She bounced up out of her seat behind the desk and came around to hug me.

  “Hey, Wanda.”

  “Welcome home, Mike,” Wanda said and hugged me again. “Glad to have you back.”

  “It’s good to be back,” I said and sat down on the couch.

  Wanda sat down next to me, she hugged me again. “Did Bobby tell you about Dominick?”

  “Yeah, he did, but why don’t you tell me about it and while you’re at it …” I pointed in her face. “You need to explain to me why you let him talk you outta calling and telling me about it and why you didn’t go talk to Angee,” I said, and Wanda punched Bobby in the arm.

  “Ouch!” Bobby said because Wanda always did hit hard.

  “I told you he’d be mad.” She took a deep breath. “I guess the real answer is because they stopped coming. And before you say it, I know that there was a reason why they stopped coming and I needed to find out why.”

  “Why do you think they stopped coming?”

  “Most likely, they stopped coming because they saw what they came to see,” Wanda said.

  “That’s what I thought,” Bobby said, but I ignored him.

  “I count on you to know shit, Wanda. And when you don’t know, you need to find out.”

  “I’m sorry, Mike,” Wanda said and dropped her head.

  “It’s probably nothing, but we’ll go see Angee tomorrow.”

  There was a brief silence in the office before Wanda broke it. “So, how was your trip?”

  “Good. Had a good time.”

  “Did you go to Saint Vincent?” Wanda asked.

  “No.”

  “You didn’t?” She looked disappointed.

  “No.”

  “Then what were you doing down there so long?”

  “Fucking everything with a fat ass and big titties. What you think he was down there doing?” Bobby asked as the door swung open and Nick and Freeze walked in together laughing.

  “What’s up, Black,” both of them said.

  “Everything’s all right. What’s been up with the two of you?”

  “Ain’t nothing,” Freeze said.

  “Where’s Jamaica?”

  There was a brief silence before Nick said, “I ain’t seen him.”

  I looked around the room at all the blank faces and then I looked at Wanda and I knew that there was more to it. I made a mental note to ask her about it next time we were alone. After that, everybody sat down at the table and I was brought up to speed on what was going on in The Family.

  I stood up. “Come on, Bobby,” I said once I had heard everything that I needed to hear and some more shit that I didn’t. “I need to show my face in a few places.”

  Me and Bobby left The Late Night and went to check on our spots. But the whole time, my mind was on Crazy Nicky and Johnny Boy. That shit, more than all the other shit I just heard about, bothered me. I started to tell Bobby to roll by Angee’s, but since there didn’t appear to be anything going on with that, I knew that making my presence known in my own spots was just as important.

  We had been to all the other spots and had pulled up outside Whitey’s when something occurred to me. Andre’s a drug dealer, so his deal with Carmine was for his drug business. Crazy Nicky and Johnny Boy may see my gambling operations as fair game. Maybe Nicky was just waiting on approval from Luca Giovanni, the boss of The Curcio Family to move on us. And if that was the case, we would have to fight them off and chances are, we’d lose because they could throw more guys at us. I got out of the car knowing that seeing Angee just got to be a little more important.

  When we got to Whitey’s, the new guy, Carter, was on the door. He let me in without a problem this time. We had only just stepped inside when Bobby saw Stylisha and said, “I’ll be right back,” and followed her into one of the rooms.

  “What up, Black?” King stepped up and asked.

  “Making this money. That’s what’s up.”

  I was just about to ask him where Whitey was when I heard the shots and then I watched Whitey go down. There were three shooters.

  Our customers began running for the door, taking cover or dropping to the floor as the shooters killed two more of Whitey’s men. I pulled out my guns and King and I opened fire on them. I got one with my first shot and fired at another and then I took cover as the other two fired back at me.

  King kept firing and hit another one of the shooters with two shots, but he was a big mutha fucka and didn’t go down. He fired back on his way to the door, but he didn’t get far, because the new guy dropped him with one punch to the jaw.

  The last shooter pulled a semi-automatic weapon from under his coat and opened fire on me and King. We took cover just as I saw Bobby come out of the room. He walked up behind the shooter and put two in the back of his head.

  “What was that about?” I asked King as we got to our feet and we went to check on Whitey. He was dead.

  “I don’t know,” King said.

  “This was a hit,” Ed said. “The three of them walked up on Whitey, one said ‘payback time’ and then they pulled and blasted him.”

  I turned to King. “You know any of these niggas?”

  King kicked over one of the bodies. “I seen this mutha fucka in here before with Whitey,” he said as me, him and Bobby walked to the door to check on the last shooter.

  I leaned close to King. “You see the new guy drop that big mutha fucka with one punch?”

  “Young nigga hits like a fuckin’ freight train, Black.”

  “I see this,” I said as we got to him.

  “You know this mutha fucka, Carter?” King asked.

  “Not him. This is the first time I seen him, but one of them been here to see Whitey a few times.”

  I walked away and looked at Bobby. “We need to get Billy over here.”

  “I’ll call him,” he said.

  “Damn, this is fucked up,” King said. “I need to call Jemisha.”

  “That his wife?” Bobby asked and looked at me.

  “Yeah,” King said.

  “I got that, King. I’ll be back,” I told him, and he walked off. I gave Bobby the finger and once he got through with his call to Billy, we left to do something I hated doing.

  For more reasons than just the obvious.

  Chapter Fourteen

  As we rode down in the elevator, I was thinking about what I would say to Jemisha; how I would tell her that her husband was dead, when suddenly Vickie was all up in my mind. I didn’t have to tell her parents that I killed her. Wanda spared me that when she insisted that she had to tell them.

  When Bobby and I got to the house and Jemisha opened the door, she took one look at us and started to cry.

  “If both of you are here, then Whitey is dead.”

  All I could do was open my arms and hold her. I held her tightly as Jemisha cried and punched me in the chest.

  “You fuckin’ promise me, Mike,” she punched me again through her tears. “You fuckin’ promise me that you’ll find the mutha fuckas that did this and put them in the ground. You fuckin’ promise me that,” Jemisha said and then she buried her face in my chest and cried.

  “You trust me, Jemisha. They’re as good as dead.”

  I had known Jemisha a lot longer than I had known Whitey. We were friends, and by friends, I mean we were fuck buddies’ years ago, so I stayed with her until she calmed down a little. I sat with Jemisha, holding her while she cried over the loss of her husband.

  Holding her that way while she cried made me think of holding Wanda and that made me think about Vickie. As I held her, I could feel Wanda’s pain, just like I was feeling Jemisha’s pain now, but it was different. Maybe it was just that I shared Wanda’s pain because it was my own, or maybe it was because I caused it. I wasn’t sure, but that’s another fucked up thing about pain, it’s unpredictable how it comes at you, it just does.

  I looked over a
t Bobby, he was sitting in the chair across from us, looking bored. Shit, I was bored too. I wanted to get outta there and find out who killed Whitey, but based on our prior relationship, I didn’t want to leave her crying like that. But, Bobby being Bobby, after a while, he began making motions with his hands like he was encouraging me to grab a handful of Jemisha’s tittie, you know, since it was practically in my hand.

  “You gonna be all right?” I asked her and tried to begin the process of separating myself from her.

  “I’ll be all right, Mike,” she may have said, but she cried even harder, but it didn’t last long. “Make me wanna get my gun and get in them streets with you, Mike,” Jemisha said and Bobby mouthed the words; she wants to fuck you.

  I gave Bobby the finger. “You don’t need to be out there like that,” I said and patted her on the back. “You got to be here for these kids.” Jemisha had two kids, but they weren’t Whitey’s.

  “I know, I know.” Jemisha touched my face and kissed me on the cheek. “I know I need to be strong for my babies, Mike.” And that realization seemed to give her strength. Jemisha separated herself from my embrace and stood up.

  “Can I get either of you a drink?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” Bobby said.

  “I’m sorry about my manners, Bobby,” she said and walked in the kitchen. “What can I get you?”

  “Any kind of Cognac will do.”

  “Courvoisier all right?”

  “That’s fine.”

  “What about you, Mike; can I get anything for you?”

  “Courvoisier is fine,” I said, and Bobby leaned close to me.

  “Can I get you any of this pussy, Mike,” Bobby whispered.

  “Lighten up, Bobby. Whitey ain’t even cold yet.”

  “It didn’t stop her while he was alive,” Bobby said knowing that Jemisha used to bring me that pussy for at least a year after she started fucking Whitey. And yes, I did stop fucking her after the thing with Mitchell Wright.

  When she came out of the kitchen with our drinks, Jemisha’s eyes were pink and puffy. She handed us our drinks, poured one for herself, drained it and poured another and put the bottle down on the table before she sat down next to me. Jemisha rested her head on my shoulder, and I put my arm around her. She began to whimper quietly while she stared at their wedding pictures that were framed on the wall.

 

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