Girls From da Hood 7

by Nikki-Michelle Redd

  “Vix, are we still on for tonight?”

  I turned behind me to look at the female standing at the door waiting for me. She was five eight, had long hair that sat in a natural press against her scalp, and had eyes so dark that they hypnotized you if you stared into them for too long. Her body was sickening: soft, plush D-cup breasts, beautiful chocolate skin, flat stomach, a lush ass, and beautiful hips. I smiled at her and turned back around to catch a glimpse of my teacher.

  “I don’t see why not. What do you have in mind?”

  She stalked closer to me and allowed her breasts to brush my shoulders before standing in front of me to block my view, which kind of annoyed me.

  “My place tonight at eight,” she said.

  I looked up at her with a smile and bit down on my bottom lip as she licked hers. “Okay. See you tonight.”

  She wasn’t smiling as she naturally did when we saw each other. I watched as she looked over her shoulder at Mr. Rodriguez and turned back to me. For a moment she only did that: just stared at me. Her eyes were trying to figure out if I’d found another male victim to add to my list.

  “Don’t be late,” she snapped at me, making me tilt my head and raise an eyebrow at the tone in her voice.

  “Excuse me?”

  She sighed and softened her facial features. “I’m sorry. I’m just saying, please try not to be late.”

  She’d pissed me off. One reason was because her tone of voice never sat too well with me when she was being demanding and, second, because she’d made me miss following Mr. Rodriguez as I’d wanted to when he left the classroom. I rolled my eyes and walked off. She’d be lucky to see me at all. I tried rushing down the hall to see if I could see the general direction my potential dick had gone—and nothing. That’s okay. Everything happened for a reason and, maybe, it wasn’t the time to make my first move yet.

  The first thing I did once my classes for the day were over was pull out my iPad and look for my teacher on Facebook. He’d been there for a little over a year and I didn’t want to make a move too soon, which was why I chose that moment to send a friend request. I needed to see what he liked to do, what his wife looked like, and what area of metro Atlanta he lived in. Most times people were so careless with the pictures and information they put on Facebook, and it would be too easy to find out all I needed to know. So, once I got home, I went right to my bedroom, and got to work. Finding him, I sent him a friend request and started my plan. In less than no time at all, he accepted my friend request and the first thing I did was go look for pictures of his wife. She was pretty enough. Spanish in heritage with jet-black silky hair and an okay body, if you liked stick figures with what looked to be drawn-on eyebrows.

  She was making it easier than it had to be. She looked simple, looked like a basic bitch, and her husband would be under my spell in no time. I laughed to myself and shut my iPad down as I heard the front door open. My mom was home. The one thing that I hated was when she came home from work early because I knew that meant that she would be in my business. She only did that shit to annoy me. I’d moved back in with her when I let go of the last guy I was messing around with. I’d known in order to get rid of him I would have to let go of the apartment he’d gotten for me and all of the other amenities. What? You didn’t think I fucked for free, did you? I would never understand how any woman ever suffered or longed for anything. As long as she had pussy between her legs, she could survive. And no man was ever going to fuck me for free. Did I outright charge by the hour? No. I wasn’t a whore. I just knew that as good as what I had in between my legs was, he was going to be willing to give me what I wanted and do whatever I asked to get another piece of it.

  Looking at my phone as it rang, and because I already knew who it was, I ignored it. She had rubbed me the wrong way so I wouldn’t be going to see her later. I’d told her over and over again that it was my pussy and my body, and if I chose to throw it at the president, then it was my prerogative to do so.

  I’d been having sex since I was twelve. We’d lived on Staten Island, in what they called Killa Hill, or Park Hill, if you wanted to find it on the map. It was the projects if you’d ever seen any, and I’d grown up always fearful of my neighborhood. The shit that I’d seen no child should ever have to see. That was another reason I sometimes hated my mother. She was so damn clueless as to what was going on right in front of her. Her best friend’s husband, who lived right next door to us, was always watching me, always licking his lips and winking at me. My body had always been a conundrum to me. I never understood why I had more ass and titties than the rest of the girls my age.

  I was too afraid to ask my mom because she had a hair-trigger attitude back then. My father had left her because of it, among other things. I was coming home from school one day; my mom was somewhere doing God knew what and her best friend’s husband saw me coming home. Obviously he knew my mom wasn’t around, but he asked if he could come in anyway.

  “Yo, Vix, let me come in and chill wit’ you until your mom gets back to the crib,” he said to me.

  It took me a minute to say yes or no. One side of my mind said no. The other side said, Well, he’s cool with my mom, so why not?

  “Okay. Sure.”

  I stuck my key in the door and he walked in behind me. He was a cute dude, no lie. Tall, he dressed nice, and he always rocked the hottest clothes and shoes. He was a little too close for comfort so I quickly turned around and pointed to the couch.

  “You can sit there,” I said nervously.

  My young mind didn’t even process what was about to happen. I looked up at him as he smirked a bit and walked over to sit on the couch. He moved like time belonged to him. It was clear to me why Shonda was always fighting girls over him. He was fine even to my twelve-year-old eyes. Even some of my friends I hung around with were talking about how they’d wished they were old enough to catch his attention.

  “I ... I can get you something to drink if you’d like.”

  I watched as he chuckled. His dark-chocolate eyes looked at me while he licked his lips.

  “Yo, why you always speaking all that proper shit all the time? You in the hood and shit and you the only shorty I know that speaks like she from the Hamptons and shit, ma.”

  I shrugged. “It’s just the way I speak.” I stood there, twiddling my thumbs as I talked to him.

  “Is that right?” he asked as his hands went to his dick and he adjusted it right before me.

  I quickly turned my head and pretended to look at the pictures that I’d seen thousands of times on my mom’s wall.

  “Come ’ere, ma. Sit by me. Talk to me,” he said as he patted the spot beside him on the couch.

  Something told me that I should have gone in my room and locked the door, but my feet moved me across the floor and there I found myself sitting next to him. I was so nervous my body was shaking because, no matter how friendly he seemed, something just didn’t feel right and I found out exactly what that something was.

  “You mad sexy, ma. You know that shit right?”

  He’d slid closer to me and was leaning down, talking close to my ear. Something that felt like electricity shot through me and made my body jerk away from him. He pulled me back. He smelled good and when his hands found their way between my legs, I tried to squirm away from him again. His big hand squeezed my thigh hard and it hurt.

  “Mike, I think you should leave. My mom isn’t home—”

  “Nah, shorty. You and me about to have a conversation,” he said to me as he stood and pulled his coat off.

  I saw the gun in his waistband and the squirming I was doing immediately stopped. I watched as he pulled the gun and laid it on the table. My eyes widened and I was frozen in fear.

  “Take your shorts off,” he ordered, standing in front of me with his arms folded across his chest as he stood in a wide-legged stance.

  I nervously stood and did what he asked, my eyes trained on the gun he’d laid on the table. Stepping out of my shorts, I crossed my
arms in front of me, trying to hide myself and not liking what I felt was about to happen. He grabbed his dick and licked his lips with a smirk.

  “Take everything off, ma. Shirt, bra, panties too.”

  With tears burning my eyelids and threatening to fall, I did what he asked. What else could I do? I was scared shitless at that point. So there I stood, naked and scared, in nothing but a pair of Jordans and my socks.

  What happened next would stick with me for the rest of my life because it was the beginnings of the makings of me. I found myself on my twin-sized bed with a full-grown man on top of me. His fingers, hands, and mouth were touching me in places that they shouldn’t have been. I lay there like a statue with tears rolling down my face because, although I was scared and didn’t want him to be on top of me, I could feel the tingles in my body that I couldn’t explain.

  He’d brought the gun in my room with us and had laid it on the lamp table next to my bed. So, while he licked and sucked on my C-cup breasts and his fingers pushed in and out of my still-virginal pussy, my eyes stayed trained on his gun. And, when he slid down and used his mouth on my pussy too, I didn’t know what to do. He pushed my legs as far apart as he could and his tongue did something to me that made me close my eyes, and my legs snapped closed tight around his head as my breathing threatened to strangle me.

  That’s when he stood and pulled all of his clothes off, and that was my first visual of a dick. All I knew at the time was what he’d shown me scared me. As he crawled back in bed on top of me, I screamed out so loud when he tried to force his way inside of me that he quickly put his hand over my mouth.

  “Yo, shorty. Shut the fuck up!” He growled that at me as he held his face close to mine.

  With tears in my eyes and my voice barely above a whisper, I said to him, “It hurts. Please stop. It hurts, Mike.”

  He pressed his hand harder down on my mouth. “Shit’s suppose to hurt. Just shut the fuck up and let me do what I do. It won’t hurt after a while. I’ma let your mouth go but you bet’ not fucking scream or I swear to God I’ma lay yo’ ass the fuck out! You laid here and let me eat that pussy and shit and that ass came so you gone let me get my shit off too. Don’t make me hurt you, Vix, feel me?”

  All I could do was think about the gun lying next to me on my night table and nod, and when he pushed inside of me again, I couldn’t help it, I screamed and his hand went back over my mouth. He pressed down so hard it felt as if he were going to cave my mouth in. Once he got past something that felt as if my whole pussy was going to fall apart, he fucked the shit out of me. He didn’t care that I’d never had sex before. He beat my shit up and all I could do was scream a muffled scream behind his hand. I even tried to push him up off of me but to no avail. He fucked me and he fucked me, until it was only an hour before my mom was to come home. He came on my stomach, my thighs, face, and my breasts. He came anywhere he felt he could and all I could do was lie there and take it.

  “Get up, shorty,” he said to me as he looked at his watch. “Take yo’ covers off and put new ones on, and you have to shower to clean all this blood and my seed off you.”

  He said all of that while hurrying to put his clothes on. I could barely walk and when I tried to stand my body crumbled to the floor.

  “Damn, ma. Get the fuck up,” he growled at me. “You better not say shit to nobody about what the fuck just went down, Vix. Swear to God. You hear me?”

  He said that to me as he picked his gun up and put it back in his waistband. I nodded quickly and latched on to his arm as he pulled me up from the floor.

  “Stop crying and shit, and act normal. Don’t fucking tell ya moms shit about what just happened.”

  He looked scared and I felt like I was about to die. All I did was nod as he grabbed my sheets off my bed and stuffed them in his coat.

  “Put some new sheets on yo’ bed and fix that motherfucker back like it was. Go take a wash up or some shit too.”

  For the next few minutes I did everything he told me to do as he barked out orders and erased any evidence of his existence. When my mom came home, my homework was done, her dinner was cooking, and I was hiding in my bedroom, pretending to be sick.

  So, what? Please don’t feel sorry for me. I got taught a valuable lesson throughout that whole experience. Pussy makes the world go ’round, as they say. At least, I knew mine did. After that day, I learned to get smart. Mike kept coming around and kept doing whatever he felt like doing to my body. One day I heard Shonda and my mom talking about how a woman shouldn’t be fucking for free and how they would make a man pay for it in some kind of way. So that’s what I started doing to Mike. He liked to stick his big dick in me whenever he felt like it, so I made him start buying me the clothes and Jordans that I loved so much back then. You wouldn’t catch me dead in a pair of Jordans now.

  He always asked me what I wanted, or if I needed anything, and my young ass was forever saying no. I don’t know why, but one day that all changed. I learned how to hold out until he got me what I wanted and after a while I’d learned how to play that little game well. By the time I turned thirteen he was putty in my hands. I had him taking from his wife to give to me and to make sure I had what I wanted and needed. He was a damn junky and I was his crack.

  After a while, I was sure his wife caught on. As a matter of fact, I’d known she had, but instead of being mad at him the stupid bitch started to come at me. That’s when she and my mom fell out. They got into a knock-down, drag-out fight right in the middle of the street. My mom dragged her ass up and down Park Hill Avenue because there was no way my mom was going to believe that her baby was fucking her best friend’s husband. Ha! If only she’d known.

  Chapter 2

  The next day started off wrong all because of what had happened the night before. First off, my female lover and I had a fight once she realized that she wasn’t going to see me like she had planned. The thing with this bitch was that she knew no matter how many times she showed her ass, I would always allow her to come back. For some reason there was no way I could say no to her for too long. She was the first woman I was with, and there were times when I hated her for that. She literally put her hands on me. Once eight o’clock rolled around and she hadn’t heard from me she decided to show up at Barnes & Noble where she knew I would be. I was always there around that time of the day because I loved to read and they satisfied my hunger for knowledge.

  She showed up and as soon as I saw her I knew the look on her face. In order to keep her from embarrassing us both, I quickly packed up and met her at the entrance. I’d known what she was upset about. She was mad because she knew my eyes were on my teacher. I never hid anything from her or anyone I was involved with. Honesty had always kept me drama free, or so I thought. I was finding out that the more honest I was with her, the more she found a way to try to start some shit with me.

  “I don’t understand why you keep doing this kind of thing,” she said to me with a scowl on her face as we both walked back out of the store.

  “And I don’t understand, nor do I care, that you don’t understand. I’ve asked you countless times not to question what I do. It’s my business and I don’t question you.”

  I knew she was referring to me having a thing for my teacher. As I moved past her, she went to reach for me and I cringed away from her touch. Sometimes her touch annoyed me. Sometimes it sickened me.

  “Don’t touch me,” I snapped at her while getting into my car.

  “I’m sorry, Vix. I didn’t mean to upset you, but what about my feelings? We were supposed to spend the night together.”

  Many nights I spent in her bed, only to wake up the next day regretting it, sick over it.

  “I changed my damn mind,” I said as I pressed the button to let my window up.

  I followed her all the way to her condo, our safe haven, down near midtown Atlanta. It made her feel safer. It was away from prying eyes and, being that she wanted no one to know about our relationship, it was perfect for her. She didn�
��t even think she was gay, and who would be okay knowing the dean of a school was carrying on a lesbian affair with one of her students? Although I’d told her I’d changed my mind we both knew where we’d end up. It took us no time to get to her condo and my night went downhill from there.

  “I’m so damn sick of you doing this to me, Vixen,” she yelled at me once we’d arrived at her place.

  The one thing she hated was to be ignored and I’d ignored her constant calls the whole ride over. Something about our relationship sickened me at times and, no, it had nothing to do with us hiding behind the guise of her being married and having a child. None of that mattered at the moment because she had called me a name that brought back many hurtful childhood memories, and I had asked her over and over again never to call me that when we were together. But, like always, she wanted to hurt me and hit with low blows.

  I turned on her so fast she backed up and stumbled a bit. “Don’t you ever call me that again.”

  She caught her balance and smirked. “Why? That’s your name isn’t it?” she asked.

  I stormed past her and jammed my key into the lock, shoving the front door open. I threw my purse and keys on a table in the hall as I made my way up the stairs to our bedroom.

  “How many times do I have to ask you not to call me that? You know damn well why, so don’t play stupid.”

  I turned and faced her just as she was walking into the room. I should have known she wanted to badly start an argument just to keep me near her. She slammed the door before scowling at me.

  “You always want me to play by your rules, while you run around here and throw pussy at any man willing to catch it. Sometimes you make me so fucking sick.”