Childhood Sweethearts PT 2

by Jacob Spears

  “Looks like he was ready to play!” she said, seeing his dick was at full mast.

  After stroking his dick a few times, she put her lips around the head of it and sucked on it while running her tongue over it. She then took the whole thing down her throat.

  “Damn, baby, that feels so good,” Smooth said, as Miranda began deep throating his whole cock.

  “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna cum!”

  In response, she just picked up speed, sucking harder.

  “Ummmm, here I cum, baby!” he shouted, as he exploded in her mouth. It felt as if he shot a whole gallon down her throat.

  “We ain’t done yet,” she said, getting to her feet.

  “Lean back” she ordered, as she straddled him. She reached down and grabbed his cock, while guiding it to her wet pussy.

  Holy shit, this pussy tight! Smooth thought, as she grabbed the back of the couch and started to ride him. As she went up and down, Smooth caressed her breasts. Her nipples were harder thanks bricks. She rode him for another few minutes, sliding up and down on his cock, going up all the way and then down.

  “Uhhh, Uhhhh . . . I’m gonna cum!” she screamed, while shuddering and shaking.

  Smooth started thrusting his hips up to meet hers. As she was cumming, her pussy spasmed and got even tighter. Not being able to hold back any longer, Smooth shot his load deep inside her tight pussy.

  “That was so good! I miss this,” Miranda exclaimed.

  “Yeah, me, too!”

  “So will you stay the night?”

  “Yeah.”

  Chapter 6

  The next morning, Smooth woke and smelled something cooking. He got out of bed, dressed, and then followed his nose to the kitchen. Miranda was at the stove in nothing but a bra and panties. Smooth walked over to her, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her neck.

  “Umm, you go sit down. I made you eggs, bacon, and toast.”

  “Sounds great!”

  Sitting down, Smooth pulled out his cell phone and realized his phone had been off since he visited China. Damn, hope no one important called, he thought to himself. Turning it on, he saw that he had a shitload of text messages. Scrolling through them, he noticed that most were from Banga. Better see what he wants, he thought, as he pushed send.

  “Yellow!” Banga answered.

  “Damn nigga! Why you been blowing my phone up?”

  “Had some problems,” Banga replied. “Had to murk a few niggas! So I’m out of town ‘til it cools down some. Been worried about you, nigga. It’s not like you to go without answering your phone.”

  “I know. I turned it off when I went to see China and guess I forgot to turn it back on.”

  “So how is China?”

  “She’s holding in there. Well, I’ll get up with ya later. I got some business to handle,” Smooth said, as he disconnected.

  “Here is your breakfast. Want some milk or orange juice?”

  “Yeah, let me get some orange juice.”

  After getting his juice, she got her own plate and sat down.

  “So what do you have planned for today?” Miranda inquired.

  “Got some business to handle and then I’m gonna go shopping.”

  “What about you?” he asked.

  “Just work. Maybe a few laps around the pool.”

  “I might hit the pool myself later on today.”

  After finishing eating, Smooth grabbed Zorro’s leash.

  “Come on, boy, time to go.”

  Zorro was bouncing around all excited.

  “He loves going out, don’t he?’ she asked.

  “He sure does,” Smooth replied, while attaching his leash.

  “I’ll call later,” Smooth said, as he headed toward the elevator.

  After walking Zorro, Smooth showered. Once he was done, he dressed in a fresh Polo Ralph Lauren outfit with a pair of Bottega Veneta boots. Dressed and ready to meet Stone, Smooth grabbed five kilos, threw them in a bag, grabbed his .40 caliber, and headed out.

  * * *

  Smooth was driving his Audi A4 and stopping at the gas station on his way to meet Stone. Zorro was sitting in the passenger seat enjoying the passing cars, while Big Sean’s Play No Games was pumping through the speakers. Smooth’s phone rang, and he answered it without checking to see who was calling.

  “Hello?”

  “This is a collect call from China, an inmate at Lowell Correctional Institution. To accept the call, press zero.”

  Smooth pressed zero.

  “This call may be monitored and/or recorded. Thanks for using Securus.”

  “Hey, baby,” China said.

  “Hey!”

  “What ya doing?”

  “Fixing to handle some business with Stone.”

  “Shit, you really are back in the game, huh?” China asked.

  “Yeah, running low on paper and no 9-to-5 job gonna pay a nigga like me anything but minimum wage.”

  “I guess I can understand, but please, baby, please be careful.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. I got Bobby, Neko, and a few new hustlers doing the small stuff. And I’m doing the big stuff with all our old friends. But anyhow, what you told me yesterday really fucked me up,” Smooth continued.

  “Well, listen, baby. I got three years to do. And I know in these few years you’re gonna have sexual desires and needs. I can’t fulfill those needs. So I want you to know that I’ll understand if you sleep with someone. I won’t hold it against you. Hell, I don’t want you to catch a deadly case of the blue balls,” China joked.

  “So you’re really sleeping with another girl?”

  “Yes.”

  “You let her eat your pussy and you ate hers?” Smooth said, getting hard just thinking of China and another girl.

  “Yes and I love it. Not as much as I love making love to you, but I still like it. I can’t wait to have a threesome with you. Every time me and Rebecca have sex, I think of you and imagine you in a corner watching us.”

  “I’m hard just thinking about you and another girl,” Smooth said.

  “So, you’re not mad?”

  “Nah, I’m not mad, baby. How are your books? Do you need some more money?”

  “Yeah, I could use some.”

  “How much can you spend at a time?”

  “We can spend $100 a week.”

  “Okay, I’ll go online to that J-pay thing and send as much as it will allow me to. I know there’s a limit, but I’m not sure what it is. Check your balance tomorrow, okay?”

  “I will check it and call you tomorrow to let you know if I got it or not. So how’s Roxy’s doing?”

  “She’s going nuts trying to make sure everything’s done by Wednesday so she can open. The place is amazing. I was surprised.”

  “You have one minute left,” an automated voice announced.

  After saying they loved each other, they both disconnected.

  * * *

  Passing the gas station, Smooth saw Stone standing beside his car next to the building. Smooth continued passing the station to circle the block and check it out. Not seeing anything amiss, he pulled into the gas station and pulled up alongside Stone.

  Lowering the window, Smooth said, “Meet me at the Denny’s up the road.”

  Then he pulled out of the lot and headed to Denny’s. Once there, he lowered all the car windows roughly four inches so Zorro would get fresh air. As Smooth stepped out of his car, he saw Stone pull up. Smooth waited for Stone to park, got out, and met him at the door.

  “How’s it going, Stone?”

  “‘Tis goin’ good, my friend.”

  They picked a booth toward the back. As soon as they sat down, a pretty blonde came by to ask if they were ready to order.

  “I’ll take a chicken sampler platter and Coke, no ice,” Smooth said.

  “I take de Grand Slam and tea,” Stone answered.

  As the waitress left, Stone turned to Smooth and asked, “So, what dee point in meeting here? Why talk?
”

  “Well, my friend, I wanted to make you a deal. I give you five keys at $20,000 a piece, right?”

  “Yea, dat be right.”

  “Well, here’s the deal. If you buy more, say 10 keys at a time, I will hook you up for $18,000 apiece. Would you be able to handle that?”

  “Ya mon, I be able to handle ’tis new deal,” Stone said.

  “It will continue to be the same product and we will go back to our regular meetings. If you want to raise the amount, call me.”

  The waitress showed up with their food. After eating and heading out, Zorro was going nuts wanting attention. Smooth hooked on Zorro’s leash and let him out. After running around the car to the trunk, Smooth pulled out the book bag and handed it to Stone, who handed Smooth another bag, which Smooth put in the trunk.

  “Take care, my friend,” Stone said, heading back to his car.

  Smooth walked Zorro and then headed back to the car.

  “Time to go home, boy!”

  Chapter 7

  “You got it, you got it bad. When you’re all alone,” Usher’s song played on Smooth’s speakers, as he headed toward the 2200 block of N.E. Patrician Street to meet Ronny and the guys. As he arrived at the duplex, he saw the driveway full on Ronny’s side, so he pulled to the empty side. Getting out and heading toward the door, the door opened and Neko stuck his head out.

  “What’s good, my nigga?” Neko asked.

  “I was fixing to ask you the same. Everyone here?’

  “Yeah, we’ve just been waiting on you.”

  Neko opened the door wide to allow Smooth in. Stepping past Neko and into the room, Smooth saw Ronny, Bobby, and about 10 other dudes. They were all rough looking and varied in age, between 16 and 50.

  “‘Bout time you showed up,” Ronny said.

  “Sorry . . . had some business to handle.”

  “Well guys, this is Smooth, your boss. Smooth, this is the new crew. They have all been hustling for years, and they all know the game. But most important, they not scared to light a bitch up.”

  “Nice to meet you all. As Ronny said, I’m the boss but Ronny is number two. I look forward to each of us moving up in the food chain. If there are ever any problems or any doubts about anything, do NOT, and I stress DO NOT, hesitate to come to me or Ronny.”

  “Okay, let’s go make this money, boys!”

  They each headed out to different street corners.

  “Let me holla at you a minute,” Ronny told Smooth.

  “What’s up?”

  “All these dudes are the real deal. Keep them happy and they will be loyal for life.”

  “I sure hope so.”

  “Well, I’m sure Banga done told you, but he and Neko had a shoot-out with some Spanish people. It’s a small-time gang that normally runs over here. This won’t be the only time we butt heads. Sooner or later, it’s gonna be an all-out war. One of ours already died and Banga is having to lay low. Are you still ready for this?”

  “Hell yeah! If they want a war, let’s give them one.”

  “Well, we might get one soon. We killed two of their people. I’m sure they’re not happy, so be prepared,” Ronny said.

  “Don’t worry, I will be very careful,” Smooth replied.

  * * *

  Booker Park off 5th Avenue in Stuart, Florida is the slums. Banga’s aunt had lived there for as long as Banga could remember. Banga always liked visiting his aunt and two cousins, Meka and Ham. This visit was going to be like all the others—party time. At the time, Banga and his two cousins were at the park on 5th Avenue watching a basketball game.

  “Let’s head over to the Cotton Club,” Meka suggested.

  “Yeah, good idea,” Ham said.

  “I’m game for whatever,” Banga replied.

  After arriving at the Cotton Club, they hung out for about 30 minutes when some nigga started trying to get all in Ham’s face. Not taking any shit, Ham punched him right in the face. The guy returned a punch, knocking Ham down. Banga automatically stepped in and started beating the shit out of the dude, punch after punch. The next thing Banga knew, two police officers were yelling at him to stop. Not wanting to get tased, he stopped and let them pat him down and handcuff him.

  After arriving at the Martin County Sheriff’s Office, they made Banga strip naked.

  “Open your mouth, run your finger around your gums like this. Lift up your nuts. Turn around. Let me see the bottom of your right foot. Wiggle your toes. Okay, now left foot. Bend at the waist and spread your cheeks . . . now cough. Okay, here, get dressed. Banga put on the bright orange uniform.

  If you’ll follow me, we’ll get you to your new house,” the deputy instructed.

  The deputy handcuffed Banga. On the way past the laundry, they stopped and the deputy grabbed a bag and handed it to Banga.

  “This has two uniforms, two sheets, a bedroll, two towels, and a blanket. Everything you need.”

  Once they got to A-4, the guard told Banga, “You’re in zone 1, room 6.”

  Going straight to his cell to put his stuff away, he saw a white dude in the cell on the bottom bunk. He was writing. As soon as Banga stepped into the cell, the white dude said, “Welcome to hell, buddy.”

  “Yeah, thanks!”

  “My name’s Jacob Spears, but everyone calls me Kentucky.”

  “My name’s Banga.”

  “I’ll step out of the cell and give you some space to make your bed and get moved in.”

  After Kentucky stepped out of the room, Banga made his bed quickly and then hurried to the phone. Both phones were being used so Banga sat down to wait.

  “Are you waiting on the phone?” another dude asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I’m next in line. You can get it after me. I won’t be that long. Just gotta see if my people coming for a visit.”

  “Okay.”

  “So, what’s your name?”

  “Banga.”

  “Well, Banga, my name is Prince Guru, but just call me Guru.”

  “Will do. Hey, what time do we eat around here?” Banga asked, as his stomach growled, since he missed lunch.

  “They feed dinner in about an hour.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem. Hey, do you place chess?” Guru asked.

  “I’ve played before, but I don’t know if I’m good.”

  “Well, when you get off the phone, wanna play?”

  “Yeah, I’ll play.”

  “GURU!” the dude at the phone hollered.

  “Gotta go!” Guru said, as he headed to the phone.

  Banga sat on the seat watching television until it was his turn to use the phone.

  “You’re up, Banga. See ya at the table when you’re done.”

  “Alright.”

  Picking up the phone, he dialed Smooth’s number.

  “Please state your name,” the automated voice requested. “Please wait while the call is being connected . . . Please hold while the party you’re calling sets up an account.”

  After a few minutes, the voice continued, “Thank you for using Securus.”

  “Hello?”

  “Bro, you’re my dawg. You can always call me. Now, tell me what happened,” Smooth asked.

  “I was at this place and some nigga started shit with my cousin. So I jumped in; and next thing I know, the damn police are there.”

  “Okay, so what did they charge you with?”

  “They got me with assault.”

  “You got a bond?”

  “Won’t know ‘til tomorrow when I go before the judge for first appearance.”

  “Let me know as soon as you get one, alright?”

  “Yeah, I’m just glad I left my burner with Uncle Ronny, because I’d really be in shit then.”

  “You have one minute left,” the automated voice stated.

  “I love ya, nigga. Call me when you get a bond.”

  “I will, and I love ya, too, bro. And . . . ,” before he said anything further, the phone disconne
cted.

  After he hung up the phone, he looked around for Guru. Banga spotted him sitting with another person at a table in the back, so he headed back to the table.

  Once he got there, he asked, “Am I interrupting?”

  “Nah, man, have a seat. You’re white, I’m black. Banga, this is my main man, Sue Rabbit. Sue, this is Banga.”

  “What’s up, yo?” Sue asked.

  “Nothing, what’s good?”

  “You see it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, you new, right?’ Sue asked.

  “Yeah. Just got here.”

  “Where you from?”

  “I’m from Miami, but I was here visiting my aunt and cousins.”

  “So where’d you get busted?”

  “The Cotton Club.”

  “Oh yeah? That’s my turf. Who’s your cousin?”

  “Ham.”

  “Damn, I know him. Just ask him about me.”

  “I will, is it my go?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So what are you in for?” Banga asked.

  “Some bullshit-ass sales charge.”

  “What about you, Guru?”

  “Same thing.”

  “So what’s up with my roommate?”

  “He’s cool. Spends most of his time writing and working out.”

  “Time for lockdown, fellows, so head to your cells,” a guard announced over the intercom.

  “Alright, we will finish this after chow,” Guru said.

  Getting back to this cell, Banga saw his roommate writing in the same spot.

  “What are you writing?” Banga asked, trying to start a conversation.

  “I’m writing a book. Well, I’m writing my second book. My first book I sent to a bunch of publishing companies. Right now, I’m just hoping one of the companies likes my book and wants to publish it. My dream has always been to be a published writer.”

  “So how long does it take you to write a book?”

  “Well, it took me six months to write my first one, because I kept going back and changing things.”

  “So what kind of book you writing?”

  “Urban novels,” Kentucky replied.

  “Urban novels? Are you serious? A white boy writing urban?”

  “Yeah, but see, I lived that life. I was out there robbing, stealing, carjacking, and murking niggas. I lived in the fast life, and I killed anyone in my way.”