A Sip of Hennessy

by Lucinda John

  “The bed don’t feel the same when daddy ain’t in it, huh?” Miami smirked.

  “Not at all.” I huffed.

  Snuggling against Miami’s chest, I felt his big hands squeeze on my ass before he wrapped his strong arms around me.

  “You look pretty today.” He yawned, pulling his hood further down to conceal his face from the sun that was shining through the cracks in the blinds.

  “Stop trying to gas me up. You know I look basic as fuck, a damn mess if you ask me.”

  “This when you’re the prettiest. You don’t need all that extra shit to look good. You got that beauty that effortlessly shines through.” I could hear the exhaustion in Miami’s voice as he spoke.

  “Thank you, daddy. Now, get some sleep.”

  A lazy smile crept through the corners of my lips before I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep in the comfort of my man’s arms.

  “ N igga came back from Puerto Rico looking all tropical and shit.” South chuckled as he dapped me up.

  “Shut the fuck up, nigga. You always hollering about dumb shit.” I waved him off.

  “What the lick read?” he asked, referring to how shit was popping on the new block we were posted on.

  For the years that I’ve been hustling, I only did my thing on the blocks that I’ve worked hard to claim, but now, with the dope falling through like a snowstorm in Chicago, I had no choice but to expand. Making sure I wasn’t stepping on any hustler’s toes, I allowed my team to hustle on the blocks that were considered neutral ground; unclaimed territory that was free to any dope boy to do his thing on.

  “Shit been money, my G. Word of mouth is a motherfucker! All it took was for one powder head to tell the others where the good shit was. Now I’m out here making runs since we running out of dope and shit,” I replied with a smile on my face.

  Even though I was in a position to chill and let my crew work, if I wanted, I decided to bleed the block with them. I would rather watch my money flow through the streets instead of being laid up, getting updates. All my blood, sweat and tears were running through this operation. I wasn’t about to leave it in the hands of no motherfucker—not even South.

  “Ohhhhh, weeee!!!” South grilled, exposing the diamonds that were in his mouth.

  Unlike me, South was a flashy nigga. He was always switching up his whips, rocking designer, and blinged the fuck out. Most of the time, I didn’t even want his ass on the block with me because he brought too much attention.

  Pulling out my blunt, I fired that shit up while I posted up against my brand new, midnight black Camaro, watching my team of niggas do their thing. Whenever they would run low on work, I’d hop in my ride and pull up to Jazzy’s house so they could re-up. Since it was the first of the month, in a matter of hours, collectively, my team was able to fill a duffle bag with money. Shit, I even had a few food stamp cards for Hennessy to use. I didn’t discriminate. If a fiend wanted drugs but didn’t have the money, I was down for accepting collateral as long as that shit held value or was something me or Hennessy needed.

  “Who the fuck is that?” South whistled the moment a cocaine white Benz pulled up in front of me.

  I didn’t have to see the driver behind the smoked out tinted windows to know who it was—that’s how long I had been dealing with the broad. Placing the blunt to my lips, I took a long toke while replying to Hennessy’s text message. The week we spent in Puerto Rico was what we needed to strengthen our relationship. Now that Hennessy and I were back on the same page physically, mentally, and emotionally, it was time for me to get back to the paper.

  “Got damn!” South growled, bringing me back to reality.

  Looking up, I spotted one of my longtime customers walking over to us dressed as if she’d just stepped off the runway. Her long, thick legs made long strides over to us in a pair of ruby red pumps that clicked against the pavement with every step she took. Although her body was made up by Dr. Miami, one of the finest plastic surgeons Miami had to offer, she was stacked like a motherfucker—standing up like a fucking stallion. The tight, red, leather dress she was clad in did little to conceal her curves since that shit kept riding up her ass, exposing her tan booty cheeks. Her long, black hair flowed down her back as if she had somebody with a fan following her. When she made it to where I was standing, she pursed her red coated lips that were pumped with fillers to make them plump.

  “Papi… let me get something.” Garcia, a bad ass Spanish powder head, asked me.

  “How much you got?” I asked, looking past her at one of my corner boys who was talking to Hennessy’s mom.

  “Edwardo has me on a stupid allowance. Apparently, his wife is complaining about the amount of money that he has been spending.” She frowned. “Can you do me this one favor, and I promise I will pay you back?” The thick accent that dripped from Garcia's lips was sexy as fuck, but not sexy enough for her to get free dope out of me.

  “Nah, mami, that’s not how it works. I don’t do IOUs. You want to sniff that shit up your nose, you gotta pay for it.”

  “Please, I’m in desperate need… I’m willing to do anything for it.” Licking her lips, Garcia tried to invade my personal space.

  “What the fuck I look like tricking off my dope? Fuck outta here with all that shit, man. On some real shit, I fuck with you, but don’t size my shit,” I spat.

  “Sorry, Papi! Edwardo just purchased me a Louis Vuitton bag. I have two of the same exact purses. How about I give you one for some? Please, Papi, it’ll be a nice gift for your girlfriend,” she pleaded.

  “Go get the bag.” I waved her off, dismissing her.

  “Nigga, you dumb as fuck! I would have had that hoe on her knees sucking the fuck out of my dick.” South shook his head. His eyes were glued to Garcia’s backside as she reached through the driver's side of her car for the bag.

  Ignoring South, I waited for Garcia to return with the bag.

  “Here it is, Papi. This bag is worth fifteen hundred dollars.” Handing me the bag, Garcia eagerly waited for my response.

  “I’m not giving you fifteen hundred dollars’ worth of work,” I replied as I inspected the bag. The exterior and the interior of the purse was in like new condition. That bloody red interior had the Luis Vuitton stitching inside, letting me know that this bag was official.

  “Here.” Pulling out a sandwich bag that had three hundred dollars’ worth of coke in it, I handed it to her.

  “That’s it?” Garcia shrieked.

  “What the fuck you complaining for? You got two of these fucking bags, right?” Snatching my coke from her, I was ready to send that bitch on her way. She had life fucked up if she thought this deal was negotiable.

  “Okay, Papi… I’ll take it.” She sighed.

  “Next time, bring your money.” I shrugged.

  “Aye, ma, let me walk you to your car,” South chimed in.

  “No…” Garcia looked South from head to toe before declining his offer. “Next time, I’ll have my money.” She winked before walking out.

  “Fuck you then! Ol’ build a body ass hoe! Nobody wanted your ugly, fake ass Roselyn Sanchez looking ass.” South hurled insults at Garcia, only for her to turn around and give his ass the middle finger before pulling off.

  “Don’t say shit to me, nigga.” South sucked his teeth. Unable to deal with rejection, that nigga was standing there looking salty as fuck while fuming out the ears and nose.

  The once blazing sun started to set while South and I remained at our post, only moving to grab more dope. A nigga was hungry and tired as fuck, but the money was calling, and there wasn’t shit for me to do but answer. Being that almost everybody in the hood collected some type of government check, the first week was always the busiest week of the month for us.

  “There go your wife.” South pointed out Hennessy, who was making her way over to us.

  With long, jet black weave cascading down her back, my baby was on her Pocahontas shit. The blue hair looked good on her and all, but it was somethi
ng sexy about that fucking black. During our trip, I would request that she left her hair unwrapped whenever we fucked. The sexiest shit ever was seeing her hair touching her ass cheeks while I gave her back shots.

  “Wassup, daddy.” Hennessy greeted me with a kiss before wrapping her arms around me.

  WHAP!

  The sound of my hand smacking against Hennessy’s booty cheek echoed through the quiet of the block.

  “Owe! Miami, dang!” Hennessy whimpered, rubbing her bruised ass.

  “Shorty, why you out here in these little ass shorts?” I groaned.

  “I wanted to show off my tattoo.” She beamed, cheesing all in my face.

  “Oh yeah?” Looking down at Hennessy, I couldn’t deny how beautiful my girl was.

  “Yup, I love it!”

  On our second day in Puerto Rico, we went sightseeing. We ended up running into this dope ass tattoo artist was doing his fucking thing with the ink pen. After watching him murder one of his customer’s tattoos, Hennessy decided she wanted to get one. An hour later, she had my name etched in her skin in big, bold lettering. Removing the first “I,” she had the tattoo artist replace it with a palm tree. I wasn’t going to front, that shit went hard.

  I’m yours forever,” she added.

  “That’s your word?” I questioned.

  “Yup!” She grinned.

  Entwined in my arms, Hennessy and I shared a moment. I could feel her heart race against me as I reached in for a kiss. Placing my lips against hers, I kissed her a few times before lodging my tongue down her throat.

  “Mmmm.” She let out a muffled moan as we made out like horny high school kids during class change.

  Pulling my lips away from hers, I ran my tongue down the side of her neck before sucking on her flesh. The way Hennessy’s breathing got caught in her throat let me know that shit was feeling good as fuck to her. I was tempted to stick my hands in the band of her shorts to play with the mess she created in the seat of her panties, but I had to remember South was only standing a few feet away from us.

  “Son in law!” a loud, squeaky voice spoke out, interrupting our moment.

  “What the fuck you want, Akio?” Hennessy frowned at her mother.

  Akio looked like she’d been to hell and back… a few times. The drastic weight loss had her looking like a sack of skin and bones. The dirty, oversized t-shirt she was wearing was practically falling off her frail body. Aiko’s addiction to the powder had her aging early. With huge bags under her eyes, dried, chapped lips, and loose, wrinkled skin, her exhausted looking ass looked as if she was knocking on the door of ninety-five.

  “I’m not talking to you, bitch. I’m talking to my son in law,” Akio snapped at her daughter.

  “My man ain’t shit to you! When you talking to him, you’re talking to me, so… wassup?” Hennessy quipped.

  “Like I said… SON IN LAW, let me hold something, please. I just scored so much from your man over there. I put a lot of money in his pockets, and I think I deserve something for that,” she begged.

  “Bitch, get the fuck out of my nigga’s face with all that begging shit! You pay for your nasty ass habit just like everyone else. The fuck you think this is? You ain’t give me no fucking handout, and I’m your damn child! What the fuck makes you think my nigga fucking with you like that?” Hennessy’s chest heaved as she told her mother off. She was so enraged that I could feel her body violently shaking against mine.

  “Akio, I ain’t serving nobody off credit. You gotta pay for your shit, just like everybody else.”

  “Y’all going to regret that shit!” Akio seethed, glaring at us through the slits of her eyes.

  “Bitch, do us all a favor and fall over and die!” Hennessy waved her mother off.

  “You think you’re so much better than me with your pretty face, fat ass, long weaves, lashes, nails, and dope dealing boyfriend.” Akio chuckled. “It’s only a matter of time before you fall lower than I did, trust me.” Exposing a set of rotten, molded teeth, Akio loudly laughed as she staggered away.

  “Don’t sweat shit she says, shorty. You ain’t nothing like her, nor will you ever be,” I reassured Henny with a kiss to her lips.

  “I know, daddy. Fuck that bitch!” Hennessy’s mouth said, but I could still see the wheels in her head turning.

  Way too gone, what the fuck am I doing? Wake up in the morning like who the fuck am I screwing? My partner on brown, and you know I’m on white. I know it’s going down, I can do this all night. Gotta get to the paper, one time for the haters, money over bitches, two times for the fakers…

  A Dodge Charger bumping Jeezy’s, “Way Too Gone,” came to an abrupt stop in front of us before the driver hopped out, leaving the car running. A few moments later, the passenger door opened, and another hopped out, following the driver.

  “Yo, on some real shit, y’all can’t hustle on this block. Pull your niggas and go back on the other side of town,” Dre spoke.

  Back when I was a lil nigga, Dre was out here in these streets doing his thing. I low key looked up to that nigga, that’s how hard he was out there putting in work. While he was out hustling, the block belonged to him, but when he got knocked, this shit became a ghost street. Anybody who slang rocks had free dibbs on the block since it was left unclaimed.

  “The fuck you talking ’bout, nigga?” I snarled, moving Hennessy to the side, so I could look this nigga in the eyes.

  “This block is mine, lil’ nigga. Don’t act stupid like you ain’t know. I should be taking a cut off top since you want to disrespect a nigga’s set by pushing dope on my territory and shit, but Imma let you make if. Round up your niggas and let them know it’s a wrap.”

  “Nah, fam. This shit still booming. We ain’t leaving until we bleed the block dry.”

  “Lil’ nigga done grew the fuck up, pushing a couple of bricks and shit, and he out here thinking he the shit,” Dre uttered to the person he was with.

  “Lil nigga think he’s El Chapo or some shit.” Dre’s partner chuckled.

  “I ain’t here for all the politicking.” I interrupted their lovers’ quarrel. “If you’re reclaiming your shit, I can’t help but respect it. I ain’t trying to step on anybody’s toes, but my niggas gon’ get theirs first,” I replied, not backing down.

  “Problems with me are problems you don’t want.” He huffed.

  “Yeah, alright.” I nodded. My eyes stayed trained on him, showing his ass that I gave zeros fucks about the shit he was hollering about.

  “Let this be that last time I see your or your little niggas on this block. The only way y’all hustling on my turf is if y’all putting the work in for me.” Dre poked his chest out.

  No plug was fucking with Dre like that, and he knew that shit. He could try to run me off the block if he wanted to, but truth be told, he didn’t have the dope to push. I’ve heard chatter about him trying to figure out who I was getting my dope from, but that shit was dead. My plug only fucked with people he rocked with. In order to get work from him, you had to be recommended by somebody he fucks with heavy. Dre wasn’t touching the type of dope I was touching, even if he had the bread to pay for it.

  “Get your weight up, then we can revisit this conversation,” I growled in a dismissive tone.

  “Yeah, alright.” He chuckled before his eyes landed on Hennessy. “Damn, Henny, you over there looking thick as fuck in them shorts. You can’t say hi to a nigga?” Dre smirked.

  Feeling the vein in the center of my forehead protrude, I reached in the small of my back for my gun before cocking that shit back.

  “Nah, nigga, my ol’ lady ain’t got shit to say to you.” With my gun at my side, my finger curled around the trigger, ready to turn that nigga into swiss cheese.

  “Nigga, that baby glock don’t scare me.” Dre chuckled before backing away. “I’ll be seeing you, though, lil nigga. And when I do, I want you to keep talking yo’ shit.” Getting back in his car with his partner following him, Dre quickly pulled off, leaving dust from hi
s tires skirting against the pavement behind.

  “You fucking with that nigga?!” I snarled, turning to Hennessy.

  The fear that was etched on her face as her eyes followed my gun’s every movement did little to faze me. On some real shit, I was prepared to bust her ass if she had confessed to fucking that nigga. Dre was the opps; I couldn’t forgive my bitch for fucking with a nigga from the other side.

  “You don’t hear me talking to you?!” my voice boomed, causing Hennessy to jump back.

  “No,” she whimpered. “Back in the day when I was still cool with Wilma, she used to fuck with him. I barely spoke two words past hi and bye to him.” She trembled.

  “That’s your word?” My eyes pierced hers as I searched her pupils for the truth.

  “Yes,” she breathed out with fresh tears trickling down her face.

  “Alright, man, my bad.” Wiping the tears from her face, I pulled her in for a hug.

  “We gotta handle that nigga before he becomes a problem,” South said.

  Nodding my head, I already understood what needed to be done. Dre’s ass needed to be eliminated, and that shit had to happen quickly.

  “ Y ou good?” I groaned out while pulling my dick out of Hennessy’s warm, sticky, wet box. Glancing down at her, I could see the worried look plastered on Hennessy’s face.

  “I don’t know why I just have a bad feeling about today.” Henny huffed, pulling me closer to her. She wasn’t ready to disconnect our intimate bond, but I had shit to do.

  “Don’t I always come home to you, shorty?” Kissing Hennessy on the forehead, I dipped my head lower, pulling one of her nipples into my mouth.

  “Yessss,” she softly breathed out. Widening her legs, she grabbed my dick and pushed it back into her mound.

  “Shorty… I gotta go.” Tightly shutting my eyes, I tried to push to the back of my head how good Hennessy’s pussy felt.

  While I was inside knee-deep within Hennessy’s girth, South was outside waiting for me, so we could bust some moves.