La Familia

by Paradise Gomez

  “Ooooh, yes, finger that pussy. Ooooh, yes!” I cooed.

  He cupped my ass in his hands and pulled me closer to him. Rico was so strong and so passionate with it. He was definitely ready to give me that thug loving. I wanted to feel every inch of him deep inside of me. But I owed him a favor. Before his erection entered the core of my soul, I moved quickly to take advantage of the situation. I pushed him off of me and climbed on top of him. I held his big, stiff dick in my soft hands. I then began to softly and gently lick the head. I licked it like a soft-serve cone and expertly used the tip of my tongue in his slit.

  I wanted to show off my head skills. Not too many niggas got to enjoy it, because I wasn’t the one to give out blow jobs to everyone. It was my treat to the man I loved. I could count on my hands how many niggas I gave a blow job to since I started fucking. With Rico, there wasn’t any hesitation. I began swirling my tongue around the head, getting it wet and slippery with my spit, stroking him to his full hardness with my hand.

  Hearing Rico moan while I stroked and touched him fervently in his private area made me extra horny. I could feel the veins in his dick throbbing. I took his entire length into my mouth in one stroke. I went farther down on him, deep-throating Rico with a nice technique of mine. When he was totally consumed by my throat, the nigga was breathless. My lips, my tongue, my mouth, and hands were all working jointly to suck my man off with the right pleasure, giving him some sloppy, wet, and sensuous head.

  I pulled my lips away from the dick and uttered, “Baby, I need you inside me now.”

  It’d been months, too long, since I had some dick run up in me. Rico positioned himself between my awaiting thighs and with no condom on, but straight raw, he penetrated me slowly. I could feel him becoming lost in so much pleasure, with my pink folds massaging him nicely. I grasped him, almost feeling like I was a virgin again. As he thrust himself inside of me, once again, he cupped my ass and pulled me closer to him. His loud grunts and moans while fucking me indicated he was loving the pussy. My sweet juices coated his raging hard-on. He was so deep inside of me that there was this feeling of joy and tranquility and love flooding my very soul when our bodies were intertwined. Our legs became a tangled mess and our heartbeats began to sync up.

  “Ooooh, fuck me! Fuck me, baby,” I cried out.

  And he sure did.

  His hands roamed by body. His kisses devouring me and with his steady pounding inside of me, I came like whoa! My body lit up like a Christmas tree. And then his orgasm hit hard too. It was more than just the physical sensation of pleasure that overtook him, it felt like we could never be separated. I could feel his sperm making its way inside of me. Rico had left his mark inside of me. I could feel his seed surely growing. He panted and then collapsed on top of me, our bodies somewhat sweaty. I cradled him and comforted him in my sweet and loving embrace.

  I was in love with him.

  I never wanted to let him go.

  “I really enjoyed that, Rico. I’m so lovin’ you right now, baby,” I whispered to him, and then I felt myself drifting off into a peaceful slumber while lying in his arms.

  Chapter Five

  Sammy

  I climbed out of Search’s green Durango under the canopy of stars and glistening city streetlights with a cigarette between my lips and new lyrics swimming around in my head. Clad in a pair of tight blue jeans and heels, with a little cleavage showing from the cowl halter top I wore, I felt like I personified rap diva and oozed sex appeal. I wanted to be sexy and have all eyes on me. Yeah, I was nice lyrically, but this was also a business and sex sells, always. First impression was a lasting impression, and I wanted to leave these people I was about to meet via Search with a very high impression of me.

  I was eager to get into the studio and record something. I had so much to say, so much truth and knowledge to spill via the microphone, that it felt I was about to detonate like a time bomb. The frustration was building inside of me so much that if I didn’t release it in the studio, somebody was gonna end up hurt tonight. And I really didn’t want to get locked up. I had so much on my mind. This was my therapy, my session on the couch.

  It was a beautiful and warm night, the kind of night where you wanted to chill with a burning blunt between your lips and sip on a cup of alcohol, it didn’t matter what kind, but to be just chilling with your peoples in the projects while probably on a park bench, talking shit to each other, listening to a few tracks and letting the time fade by while you got faded with a nice high.

  But lingering around in the projects and chilling with my peoples could wait. Business came first and I got high while on the go. It wasn’t every day that I got a chance to record in an elite Manhattan studio and the cost wasn’t on me. It was an opportunity that I wasn’t going to pass up. Search was looking out for us. He was putting his money where his mouth was. I had respect for him and wasn’t going to take him for granted. But I couldn’t say the same thing about Mouse. She was still a no-show and it was really upsetting me.

  Here I was in the heart of New York, Midtown Manhattan, home to some of the city’s most iconic buildings like the Empire State Building, Chrysler Building, and United Nations, and containing the world-famous commercial zones such as Rockefeller Center, Broadway, and Times Square, on a balmy night, and about to head into this studio where hits were made over the years, and my girl wasn’t by my side. Was she serious?

  I gazed up at the fifteen-story brick building. It was a beautiful thing to see. Manhattan was always a fun town. We made it a fun town. I wanted to own this town. I wanted the glitz and glamour. I wanted to go on thousand-dollar shopping sprees and have my face plastered across billboards that stretched for miles long. I wanted to ride around in the fancy cars and live in the most lavish homes. When was it going to be my turn? Right now, because it started here, networking and working my ass off. This was my chance and I wasn’t going to fuck it up.

  Before I walked into the building, I lit my cigarette and took a few deep pulls. I needed the nicotine rush because Mouse was heavily on my mind and wasn’t here yet. While on the way to the city I tried calling her for the umpteenth time, but she wasn’t answering her fucking phone tonight. She had to be caught up with Rico somewhere to miss out on our studio time. I told her countless times that we had an appointment tonight, and afterward we probably could get to hang out in Times Square. She couldn’t have forgotten about it already.

  I decided to leave her a voice mail. So after the beep, I hollered into the phone, “Mouse, where the fuck are you? Search and I just arrived at the studio in Midtown and I’ve been calling ya damn phone all evening. When you get this message, give me a call back right away. Don’t be fuckin’ this shit up for us over some dick.”

  I had to be blunt and raw with her. There wasn’t any other way to say it.

  “You reached Mouse?” Search asked me.

  “No, she didn’t pick up,” I said.

  “She knows this is important,” Search replied with frustration.

  If Mouse fucked up this opportunity of a lifetime to chill with some hood nigga, then it was going to be World War Three between us. I continued to smoke my Newport while loitering around the front entrance to the building. It was nine p.m. I was itching to get into this studio and start doing my thing. I wanted to be the female Biggie and 2Pac in the rap game. I truly felt that some of these female rappers today were whack; only a few I gave respect to. I wanted to bring something different to the game. Yeah, I knew that’s what they all said, but I felt I was different. Coming from the Bronx was my story, and warring every day from gang banging, drugs, and stealing to survive was my street credibility, and I was sexy with it. I had respect for bitches like Nicki Minaj, with her coming out of South Jamaica, Queens, but they weren’t fucking with the Bronx and I think I looked ten times better than her. No, it wasn’t hate, it was only the truth.

  I waited for Mouse to show up for ten minutes, but she was still a no-show. I extinguished my cigarette by dousing it against t
he building and flicked it away into the street. Yeah, that was hood of me, but nobody was perfect. I looked at Search and said, “Fuck it, let’s just go do this and get somethin’ done.”

  “What’s wrong with that girl?” he asked.

  “Fuckin’ wit’ these lame-ass niggas,” I replied.

  We walked into the building. My heels click-clacked against the floor. We stopped at the security desk and Search signed in for the both of us. The security guard waved us through and we headed toward the elevator. I stepped inside behind Search and he pushed for the tenth floor. Once we started to ascend, I couldn’t stop thinking about Mouse. Either she was going to be really late or not show up at all. And if she didn’t show up at all, I was going to be pissed the fuck off. Her phone was going straight to voice mail. She had to be with Rico. It was the only explanation I could think of. Search was also concerned; he was just a little cool with his temper. I was ready to erupt like a volcano. We were a duo, Vixen Chaos; without Mouse taking this serious then this wasn’t going to work.

  Search had put up money for us to be here tonight, his own fuckin’ dime. He looked at me like I had the answers to Mouse’s absence. I didn’t. I was in the dark like he was. As we rode upward in the lift, Search asked, “What’s up with Mouse? Is she serious about this or what, Sammy? I paid five hundred for a two-hour session with Macky for tonight. Time is money.” He suddenly had an attitude. I didn’t blame him.

  “She wit’ Rico,” I blurted out.

  “Rico?” he replied with a puzzled look. “When she started hanging out with that thug?”

  “You already know how Mouse is, Search. She gets around a certain nigga and thinks she’s in love and then everything else important goes out the window. I’m sick of it, too,” I proclaimed strongly.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he replied.

  I sighed heavily. I was afraid of blowing this. We finally stopped and stepped onto the tenth floor. The hallway already indicated something significant dealing with the music business; gold and platinum albums lined the hallway and portraits of famous rappers and R&B stars were seen. I hoped that my face would be on that wall someday. I followed Search and we went into a room marked Studio B. Search didn’t have to knock. We just walked in this dimly lit engineer room that oozed a certain harmony to it.

  Everything in it looked expensive, even the high-back swivel chairs. There was one person in the room. He was seated behind one of the giant audio mixers, which was lit up in a multitude of lights, and nodding to a beat. It was the isolated control room where hits were made. When he noticed us standing in the room behind him, he jumped from his chair and greeted Search with some dap and a hug.

  “Search, what’s up,” he greeted him.

  “Macky, it’s been a minute,” replied Search.

  “I know.” Macky’s attention went from Search to me. He eyed me heavily and I could tell by his expression that he liked what he saw. “Is this the one you’ve been telling me about?”

  “She is.”

  He came over and shook my hand like a gentleman with his eyes fixated on my beauty and attire. “Well, if she can rhyme as good as she looks, then I think we have a platinum-selling record,” he praised. “But I’ve been hearing a lot about you through Search. I can’t wait to hear what y’all have for me tonight.”

  I smiled and blushed. “I can’t wait to show it off.”

  He then looked around and asked, “Weren’t you suppose to come with two?”

  “Yeah, we were,” said Search.

  “So, where is she?”

  Search and I were clueless. I was stuck. What to do now? I already had my rhymes written down and some I was ready to freestyle. Mouse wasn’t going to stop the show from running. The producer, Macky, he was ready to get behind the mixer and get to work. I found out that he’d been a music engineer for years, and worked with a few Bronx legends. He’d been on the map since the late nineties and his reputation in the music biz was awesome.

  “She’s on her way,” I said.

  “A’ight, as long as she isn’t too late. Search, you know I’m a busy man, and I have another group coming in around midnight,” he said.

  “I understand, Macky. We ain’t come to the city for nothing. She’s definitely on her way,” Search said.

  Macky nodded and sat back down in his chair and started messing around with the mixer again. Macky was cool and nice looking, some eye candy for me with his long dreads, dark skin, and lean physique. I loved a man who was about his business. Search and I were praying that Mouse was on her way. I excused myself from the room for a moment and dialed Mouse’s number for the umpteenth time tonight while standing in the hallway. Her phone was ringing; I was praying that she would pick up this time. When I was about to give up hope, I heard Mouse’s voice on the other end.

  “Hello,” she answered coolly like she wasn’t a half hour late.

  “Mouse, where the fuck are you?” I shouted. “You were supposed to be in the studio with me to record these tracks and you are a half hour late.”

  “I know, Sammy, I didn’t forget. We on our way there now,” she said.

  “We?” I heard music playing in the background and what sounded like wind blowing. She was in a moving car. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know who was driving. “Who’s we?” I asked. I just wanted to hear what she was going to say to me.

  “I’m wit’ Rico,” Mouse replied affably.

  I hated to hear that. Since they hooked up a few days ago, it was always about Rico. What the fuck! I was someplace different and around company, and even though they were both in the next room, I didn’t curse Mouse out the way I wanted to. There was no telling who might be around listening. I didn’t want Macky and everyone else to think that we were some loud and hood rat bitches who came with drama. We were already on CP time (color people time) with him. I wanted to look professional. Mouse and I were representing Search and so far we were making him look really bad when he invested so much into us—time and money.

  Keeping my cool, I said to Mouse, “Just hurry up and get here.”

  “I’m comin’,” she replied dryly.

  I hung up and felt so embarrassed. I released a heavy sigh and walked back into Studio B. Macky and Search looked at me. They were nodding to a beat and when I walked in, Macky asked, “Everything cool?”

  “Yeah.”

  “She’s still a no-show, huh,” said Macky.

  “She’s coming,” I repeated like a broken record skipping.

  I was sick of hearing it myself. Fuck! Macky shrugged and spun around in his swivel chair to face the mixer again. You already knew he was a producer who lived in the studio. He pushed a few buttons and manifested his magic to me and Search. The studio came alive with this breathtaking beat. It had a luscious groove with a ticklish piano melody. I instantly wanted to grab the mic and go into the studio and start rhyming like I was a bitch possessed. I wanted to flow off this beat with such command and power. I found myself nodding to it and opened.

  “Ooooh, I love this beat. Is this for us?” I asked him excitedly.

  Macky chuckled. He already told me my answer. He replied with, “I don’t think you can afford this beat.”

  “Oh, really,” I snapped back.

  I was ready to flow. I was ready to show him something. I was never scared to rhyme in front of anyone, successful or not. When it came to showing off my talent, my skills, I was a fucking showoff. You never know who is who. I wanted the fuckin’ world to hear me.

  As the beat played, my head nodded. I started off with a little harmony from my soul. I wanted to give Macky a little taste that I could sing, too. His look toward me displayed he was already impressed. My sound was soothing, my vocals could shoot high like a rocket soaring.

  “I hate you. Ooooh. I hate you. Ooooh, ’cause I love you, I love you. I tried so hard to understand you, I tried so hard to be his one, that woman by his side from dusk to dawn, but I hate you, I hate you,” I sang.

 
“A’ight, I like it so far,” Macky replied with a smile.

  He hadn’t heard anything yet. I stopped impressing him with my singing and went into my lyrics.

  “I hate you, ’cause as soon as he came through that damn door, I screamed it, ‘I hate you,’ but my eyes still show my love, but this nigga’s action had my heart so damn torn, his untamed look had me so worn, I stood like a deep chill, frozen, tryin’ to find warmth from his cold, I stood the distance, cried every minute, embraced every hitting, got even his niggas asking, ‘how can he do you so wrong,’ but they just wanted to run up in it, I becomin’ that bitch standing in the night ’n’ tryin’ to see her dawn, but dusk stay forming, the tears fell, ’n’ my mind dwelled, staring at this nigga, I started to feel like a drying well. Closed my eyes, tried to shut out my mind, I still felt him come near, reach out like he AT&T, nigga I just wanted to disappear, but his touch made me wither here and there, and this nigga’s apologies were nothin’ rare, done heard it all before, you ’n’ ass more than ya rear, say what, heard it all before, ‘I’m sorry’ entrenched into my soul, shit was repeated after every unlawful affair he done been through untold. The fuckin’ nerve of him, comin into this fuckin’ home after all my missed calls. Yeah, nigga, I hate you, ’cause I loved you, I hate you, ’cause I tried so hard to understand you, I tried so hard to be his one, that woman by his side from dust to dawn,” I rhymed.

  The hyped look on Macky’s face said it all to me. I didn’t have to ask if he liked it. He just came out and said, “Yo, that shit was nice. Damn, you got skills, love. You can sing and rhyme tight. You’re like a Mary J. Blige and MC Lyte wrapped up into one.”

  I smiled heavily. To hear them words come from Macky, the man, the producer who’d been around so much musical talent over the years, meant a lot to me. I knew he wasn’t just saying it to impress me. He was saying it because he saw talent when he saw it.