Brick (Double Dippin')

by Allison Hobbs

  “This is bullshit. Don’t y’all got any fans or something that I can take up to my room?”

  “You can try the hardware store down the street,” the clerk offered disinterestedly.

  “Now I gotta text my shawty and tell her to bring some money down here. Man, y’all gon’ have to come off some serious paper if she gets sick from having to drag her pregnant ass down to this lobby.” He glared at the clerk and then pulled out a cell phone. Frowning at the screen, he began rapidly working his fingers and thumbs as he texted.

  Suddenly, the hairs stood up on the back of Brick’s neck. Watching this nut bull fucking with his cell phone brought back memories. Now he knew exactly where he’d seen this dusty-looking knucklehead. He’d been playing with a cell phone when Brick had first set eyes on him. That’s the clown that was with Misty when she came to visit Thomasina after she gave birth to Little Baron. He was Misty’s only worker. He was whining about going to Red Lobster while Misty was working on me…determined to lure me back into the game. If memory serves, Misty called him Troy. Yeah, this nigga’s name is Troy.

  Staying in a flophouse like this, Brick concluded the male prostitute was obviously going through hard times without the guidance of Misty. Brick doubted if the kid was involved in what happened to Misty. He didn’t appear to have the heart, or the paper, to put a hit out on his former pimptress. But you never know. Anyone that had been close to Misty was suspect; even this lanky fool. If nothing else, he’d be able to give Brick the names of people that had beef with Misty.

  Resisting the urge to collar and bitch-slap some information out of the chump, Brick softened his expression. “Yo, cuz, I can switch rooms with you after I check in. I wouldn’t want a pregnant woman to have to suffer in this heat.”

  The dude named Troy stopped texting and looked at Brick. “Good looking, man,” he said, breaking into a relieved grin.

  Having difficulty holding his affable smile in place, Brick turned his back and filled out the forms that the clerk had given him. He wrote down a fictitious name and address and then slapped some cash on the counter. Without question or even asking for ID, the clerk gave Brick the key to his room.

  CHAPTER 5

  It took forever, but I’m finally in Philly.

  Evette said she was gon’ skip work and spend some time with me. I hope she realizes that I want some welcome home nookie the moment she opens the door. No polite chit-chat. She don’t need to say shit. I want her to immediately start coming out of her drawers.

  I get off the El on Forty-sixth Street. I’m walking and scanning all the little side streets, looking for Ludlow, the street Evette lives on. It dawns on me that I’m not locked up anymore. I’m breathing in fresh air and feeling sunshine on my face, and there aren’t any guards around, telling me yard time is over, and to get back inside.

  Pent-up rage begins to leave my body. I feel good. Excited about the future.

  “Whassup. How’s it going?” I say to passersby, giving them a friendly smile. But they all give me wary looks, gazing at me all crazy because I extended a greeting.

  Philadelphians are the most evil-ass, unfriendly people in the world. Fuck ’em; I’m a free man.

  Evette told me that her house was left to her by her grandfather. It’s paid in full. All Evette has to worry about is keeping up with the taxes. I told her I would help with that…but we’ll see. I ain’t spending no dough until I see how things are gonna turn out between us.

  I’m on her street now, and I’m getting nervous. Anxiety is making my heart beat fast. Am I actually about to get my dick wet?

  Evette better not be wasting my time talking about getting me reintroduced to society. She claims that she can help me become a productive citizen. Mold me into the perfect husband. Whatever! I’m only interested in having a spot to call home, some cooked meals, and wet pussy whenever I want it.

  I’m about to press down on this babe’s doorbell, but I’m feeling kind of skeptical…like I might be on camera, getting punked. I haven’t been inside a home in such a long time, all kinds of mixed emotions are jumbled up inside me.

  True to her word, Evette is home. She opens the door, and smiles at me. “Look at you! Oh, my goodness, look at you, Kaymar! You’re so handsome.” She squeezes my right bicep, and then gives me a hug.

  Stiffly, I tolerate her embrace. “Hey, Evette. You looking good,” I tell her, but I’m lying. I’m horrified to see that one side of her face is hanging. Her eyelid is droopy, and one side of her mouth is kind of zigzag.

  I thought “visually impaired” meant that she couldn’t read small print without rocking some extra thick eye glasses, but the entire right side of her mug is impaired and sagging all crazy.

  Evette’s dead wrong. Instead of taking me off-guard and springing her deformity on me, she should’ve been honest about her condition.

  Now I understand why she wouldn’t send me any pictures. She figured that one look at her mug and I’d cut off the relationship.

  “So, what happened to your eye…and your mouth and shit?” I ask, trying to keep the frown off my face. “What is that? A birth defect?”

  Evette looks crestfallen, like she’d hoped that I wouldn’t mention her ugly face. Sheee-it! One thing about me, I always speak my mind.

  “It’s Bell’s Palsy. My doctor said it’s not a permanent condition. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I was hoping my face would be back to normal when you got out,” she says, trying to sound pitiful.

  “Goddamn!” I look away in disgust. “So, lemme get something straight,” I say, standing with my arms folded across my chest. “You really can’t pick your lip up at all?”

  Her good eye blinks rapidly. “No, I can’t control my facial muscles on the impaired side,” she says, shaking her head.

  There’s a long awkward moment as I marinate on her words. I decide that I’m furious, and that Evette needs her ass whooped for misleading me into thinking she only had a minor problem with her vision.

  But I can’t kick her ass. Not right away. I don’t want to jeopardize my parole, so I’m gon’ have to ease into backhanding this lying bitch.

  Digging deep, I gather up some self-control. I force myself to look past her flaws. I focus on her good points. Like her fat ass! Umph! My dick is starting to swell. I’m ready to grab those juicy buns.

  Instead of standing around feeling awkward, Evette and I should be getting better acquainted upstairs in the bedroom.

  My dick is bricked up and ready for stroking. I’m feeling conflicted emotions, though. It’s crazy, but I’m feeling both disgusted and turned on by this scuggly ho. Something about her hideous disability is bringing out the freak in me—giving me real raunchy thoughts.

  Before I fuck her, I should put a paper bag over her head…you know, to spare myself from having to look at her. But I can’t risk pissing her off. At least not before my parole officer makes a home visit. After I establish this is my address, Evette can crawl up in a hole somewhere. She can die for all I care.

  Shit, I might murk this bitch before the home visit if she don’t get over here and jump on this dick.

  Instead of taking care of my needs, Evette’s still staring at me, flashing a zigzag grin and looking real stupid.

  All of a sudden, the smile vanishes from her face. “Have a seat, Kaymar. We need to get a few things straight.” Her voice is no longer cheerful. With a serious expression, Evette points to the couch. The couch is old-fashioned and the color is faded; like something her old relative must’ve left behind. In fact, everything in the crib looks ancient and gloomy.

  I sit with my back straight. My hands are folded in my lap, like I’m on a job interview…or in front of the parole board.

  “A lot of women don’t mind sleeping around, but I’ve been saving myself for the right man.”

  “You’re a virgin?” I ask with a frown. I’m pissed because I didn’t expect to have to be struggling and tryna jimmy my dick inside a tight opening.

  “No, I’m n
ot a virgin. But I’ve been celibate for the past six years. Saving myself for a man who’s going to treat me with respect. Are you that man, Kaymar?”

  This is some bullshit. Why does this one-eyed hooker feel the need to interrogate me at a time like this? She deserves to be smacked for luring me to the crib to rehash the same ol’ conversation we’ve been having for the past two years.

  “I told you a million times, I’ma changed man,” I say with irritation in my voice.

  “Are you sure?”

  My hand is itching to slap her, but if she calls the cops, I’ll be in a world of trouble. And I’ll be jammed up if she throws me out her ol’ raggedy crib. Being that my mother and everybody else in my family has made it clear I’m not welcome, I guess I’m stuck here in this moldy house until I can do better.

  I get control of my temper and say, “Yeah, baby. I’m rehabilitated. I got my GED and everything.” I put my game face on and add, “I’m a lucky man to have a sexy woman like you.” My eyes begin to roam. Her titties are kind of small, but the rest of her body is tight.

  “You said you’re rehabilitated, but how do I know that’s true? Do you have a plan…any job prospects?”

  Even though I’d rather be upstairs in the bedroom tearing up some pussy, I put a pleasant expression on my face, like I’m cool with sitting here and listening to her run her crooked mouth.

  “After I see my parole officer and talk to a couple of counselors, I can start looking for a job. It won’t be long before I have a steady income.”

  She sighs. “I was hoping we could start looking at engagement rings by next week. I told you I don’t believe in shacking up. I’ve waited two years for you to get out. We need to start planning a wedding as soon as possible.”

  She’s making me frustrated. Got me literally twiddling my thumbs. If I don’t do something with my hands, I’m liable to use them to punch her lights out. Pop her in that good eye. How she gon’ pressure me to marry her as soon as I step foot through the front door?

  Bitch must be as crazy as she looks!

  CHAPTER 6

  “Do we see eye to eye, Kaymar?” Evette asks.

  She has me squirming, talking that eye-to-eye shit. That’s not the kind of expression that a droopy-eyed ho should be using.

  I play it off. “We can get married. I’m ready whenever you are. But first I gotta find out what I’m getting into.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I shrug. “I’m just saying… I don’t wanna get into something as serious as marriage if we’re not compatible in bed.”

  “But we both agreed to wait…” Evette opens the left side of her mouth, and then closes it as she struggles to find the right words. “You told me you’d already waited ten years for sex and that a few more months wouldn’t make any difference.”

  “That was before I saw you and your sexy self.” My throbbing dick has me lying and talking all kinds of shit.

  Evette gets fidgety. She begins fooling with the silver chain around her neck. I got this bitch cornered! She’s invested a lot of money in me over the past two years. Her heart is on the line, too. She put all her romantic hopes and dreams on me, and she wants to make a profit from her investment.

  I decide to call her bluff.

  “My cousin just got married,” I suddenly say. “He’s married to a religious girl. Being a good Christian, my cousin’s wife wants to help me out. She invited me to stay with them. She says there are sisters in the church lined up, waiting to cook dinner for a good-looking man like me.”

  I couldn’t resist talking about my physical appearance, reminding her I’m a good catch. I’m no slouch in the looks department, while Evette is the type of broad that probably scares children when she goes out in public.

  I can see Evette’s mind at work. She’s having second thoughts about giving up some poontang. I can tell by the way that she’s biting on her fingernail. Yeah, I turned the tables on this nutty broad, real quick. Fuck outta here, tryna force me into marriage. She’s lucky I’m freaky enough to wanna stick my dick up in a bitch that facially-challenged.

  No more Mr. Nice Guy! I stand up and fold my arms. “Show me whatchu working with, baby. Cut out all the dialogue and pull them jeans down.”

  “Huh? Right here in the living room?”

  I nod.

  “Don’t you want to go upstairs to the bedroom?”

  “I don’t have time. My cousin and his wife are expecting me to come through. His wife has a big welcome home dinner waiting for me,” I say and then begin unzipping my pants.

  My pants are halfway down when Evette blurts out, “Maybe you need to go visit your family first, and then come back home.” She sounds offended.

  I yank my pants up. “Solid,” I agree. “That sounds like a plan.”

  The zigzag side of her lips starts to tremble. She seems close to tears. “I was going to surprise you by taking you out to dinner tonight.”

  “I’d rather have a home-cooked meal.” I turn up my nose at her offer as I button the top of my pants.

  “Okay. I don’t mind staying home and cooking for you.”

  I want to laugh in her face. It’s obvious I have her in the palm of my hand. “I already made arrangements with my family. Family comes first; you need to respect that.”

  “I thought you said your family had all turned their backs on you.”

  “Everybody except my cousin,” I lie. I’ve always been an excellent liar. “Look, you gotta understand some things. Once we’re married, I’ll put you on top, but until then, you gotta earn that spot.”

  She nods uncertainly. “What do I have to do to earn the spot?”

  “You gotta keep me satisfied.” Ready to get my knob polished, I take off my shirt and step out of my pants. Her left eye is gawking at my well-developed physique. I don’t know what the droopy right eye is doing; I’ve quickly taught myself how to block the bad side of her face away from my line of vision.

  Standing butt naked in the living room, I begin stroking my shit. I could’ve popped off right there, but I wanted to squirt inside a warm hole. I slow my hand stroke, back up and sit on the couch.

  “Come over here, girl,” I say, steadily beating my meat. “Come handle this.”

  Evette has a trapped look on her face as she slowly tugs off her jeans. She’s close to taking off her top, but I stop her, and yank her toward me.

  My eyes are closed when she straddles me. Her thighs feel good pressed against mine; I get the shivers. I’m all keyed up since I’m finally about to get me some hot pussy.

  Excited, I fit the head of my dick inside her slit. “You’re tight,” I murmur as I push in a few inches. “I can tell you been saving it all for me…your future husband,” I say in a husky voice.

  Future husband must be the magic words. Evette goes wild, moaning and groaning, placing sloppy kisses all over my face.

  Turning the heat up a few notches, I whisper in her ear, “I’ve been waiting a long time for this day, Mrs. Crawford.”

  She’s acting like a bitch in heat, bouncing up and down on my pole. She’s biting and sucking on my neck. I don’t like the way her mouth feels on my neck, but that pussy is super juicy. It’s so mushy with her juices, I can’t hold back; I skeet. My dick’s only been in that pussy for a little under a minute, but she’s lucky I ain’t bust on impact.

  Evette murmurs softly and caresses my face; she’s trying to work her lips around to mine.

  I grimace. I’m not tryna kiss that droopy mouth, hooker. I’m saving kissing, candy, and flowers for the right girl…someone who deserves to be treated special; not some fuggly ho.

  “Yo,” I say, leaning away from her. “It’s gon’ take a minute before I can get relaxed enough to get involved in kissing and all the lovey-dovey bullshit you tryna get into.”

  She murmurs some kind of an apology and then looks down in embarrassment.

  “Don’t try to force me into something that I ain’t ready for,” I grumble. “That shit you doing is
a turn-off.”

  She flinches like I slapped her. Slapping her is a good idea. It takes a lot of inner strength to keep my hands to myself.

  I shake my legs impatiently, letting her know it’s time to get off me. Evette has the nerve to wrap her arms around my neck, and then lays her pea head on my shoulder, tryna sneak in some cuddle time. “Raise up!” I say gruffly. “You can get some more later on tonight.”

  The nerve of this ho. At first she didn’t wanna give up any pussy, and now she can’t get enough of this dick.

  Evette slides off my lap, real slow and reluctantly. I smirk with satisfaction at the sight of my jism oozing out of her pussy.

  “I have to go upstairs and clean up. Do you wanna take a shower with me? You can lie down and rest while I fix your dinner.”

  “I ain’t got time for a shower. I told you, I gotta go see my cousin,” I say as I pull my pants up. Evette is being sneaky, tryna lure me into a sexathon, but I’m not going for it.

  And I’m not washing my Johnson off either. I haven’t smelled pussy in a long time, and I dig the idea that my groin area has the ripe smell of vagina.

  “What time are you coming home?” Evette timidly questions me.

  I shoot her a dirty look. “I’m not on your time clock.”

  “You don’t have to be so rude, Kaymar. I only asked you a simple question.”

  A simple question! I’m furious at the nerve of this bitch. I squint at her, making my eyes narrow and real evil-like. Evette can tell I’m two seconds from knocking her on her simple ass. But I restrain myself. I don’t have this bitch figured all the way out. She might be the type to pick up the phone and try to get a nigga locked up. So, until I find out how she ticks, I’ma try to keep from punching her.

  “I’ll be back around eleven. Is that all right with you?” I say through clenched teeth.

  “Eleven o’clock is fine,” she answers quickly.

  I saunter toward the door, and then I stop, suddenly remembering I spent all my money on bus fare. “I need some money,” I state challengingly.