Life Without Hope

by Leo Sullivan

  L i f e

  Evette’s lover. At that very moment I tried to shake the wary cob-

  webs from my head, but with it came the relentless pain. Too

  much pain no human being should ever have to endure.

  “How ... did ... you ... get in here?” I asked.

  “Major let me in sweetie,” she said and held a white Walgreen’s

  drug store bag in front of my face.

  “I’m gonna take care of you.”

  “Where is Trina at?” I asked, my voice sounding like a small

  child. Pain can make a man talk that way.

  “You don’t need that bitch! That’s why I’m here to warn you.

  She wanted us to help set you up with the feds so she could get

  Big Mike out of prison. Evette and I turned her down. Trina got

  scared and left town.”

  “WHAAAAAT!” I screeched. “What about Pearl –”

  “Shhhh,” Tomica interrupted as she placed her index finger

  over my mouth.

  “First thing’s, first. Now baby, relax and let me make you feel

  betta,” she said seductively.

  My mind was boxed in with dilemmas that ran the length of

  my confused brain. The only thing that was for certain was that

  my world, as I once knew it, was crumbling around me. My nigga

  Dirty was dead along with Lil Man. I couldn’t help but wonder,

  why would Trina turn me in and where in the fuck was Blazack at?

  Tomica removed all my clothes and bathed me with a soft

  sponge, as she grimaced at the horror of my scars. At the time I

  was in so much pain I honestly thought I was going to die.

  Suddenly Tomica stopped and removed her blouse and then

  her bra. The lights played off the sensuous cur ves of her body. She

  watched my reaction. I could tell it was not what she had been

  expecting. The very last thing in the world I wanted was some sex.

  She reached inside her purse and removed a small white pack-

  age of a powder y substance and dug her long fingernail into it.

  “Here, snort this, it will make you feel betta.”

  “What is it?”

  “The same thing they gave you at the hospital, only this is

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  purer. China White,” she said and watched me as she held it up

  close to my nose. Probably the same way Eve did Adam with the

  apple. “This will make you feel betta, handle your business, get

  you out of bed, no mo’ pain. Take it!” she cajoled. With all the

  pain I was in I would have snorted horse shit if someone would

  have told me it would make me feel better.

  I snorted from the tip of her finger as she smiled down at me,

  in a strange kind of satisfaction. Before I could hardly inhale she

  shoveled another toot into my other nostril. Within moments I

  was overcome with a pleasant euphoria that sent me sailing out of

  space on cloud nine. The pain instantly vanished. I was high as a

  muthafucka.

  So this was the world of China White,

  I thought as

  Tomica got me high on my own supply. Dope she had been steal-

  ing from me for years.

  With half lidded eyes, dreamily I smiled up at her. Watched

  with the amusement as she began to take off her skirt and then

  wiggled out of her panties like some exotic snake shedding its skin.

  She stood in front of me completely naked. Pubes of silky black

  hair cascaded down her brown thighs. My manhood stood up

  with enormous invigoration. Like a long pole, it waved at her. I

  could feel my body experiencing a sensation I had never felt

  before. The swells of her supple breasts came into view. Her erect

  nipples were tiny like luscious strawberries, hardening into fine

  points that complimented the symmetry of her hour glass figure.

  Tomica’s body was bodacious in all the right places. She reached

  out and grabbed my joint with both her hands, it twitched and

  throbbed pulsating in the palm of her hands as precum glistened

  from the head like a volcano about to er upt.

  My body was on fire, I wanted to fuck this lesbian. She smiled

  at me devilishly, sensing my wanton lust. Tomica dropped to her

  knees and began to feverishly wax my pole with the palms of her

  hands causing my toes to curl as my back arched to meet her. She

  bit down on her lip with a purposeful scowl, that of a seductress

  determined to get what she came for. Slowly ... slowly ... she took

  me into her mouth and gobbled me up as best she could with my

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  great length and size. “Oh, shit! Oh, shit!” I moaned in ecstasy

  fighting the urge not to close my eyes. I wanted to see what the

  lesbian could do with all this dick. I whispered her name, caressed

  her head as her lips skillfully moved up and down, up and down

  the long sleek surface of my manhood. To my amazement she had

  me all the way in the back of her throat. Once or twice she gagged,

  but never missed a rhythm, bobbing her head up and down, deep

  throating me like it was art practiced by many but understood by

  few. Tomica made loud slurping sound as she sucked greedily,

  without coming up for air. Each woman’s intimacy of love making

  is in essence a part of her vir tuosity. An identity given like a

  birthright that makes each woman unique in her own right.

  Finally, I exploded deep in her mouth, down her throat. I took

  hold of her head forcing myself deeper in her mouth. She looked

  up at me without panic and swallowed every last drop and licked

  her lips.

  After ward, I sat up in bed with the feeling of a man that has

  just been resurrected from the dead. Tomica stood a few feet in

  front of me. My dick was still hard and throbbing. I could see her

  clitoris through the mounds of her hair y bush as she stood, long

  legs parted. I reached out and took one of her strawberry nipples

  between my thumb and index finger and pinched it, hard.

  “Ouch!” she whined. With my other hand, I reached between

  her legs and stroked her kitten, made her purr for me until she

  started to hump my hand. I stuck my finger inside her moist

  opening. She was tight. The kind of tight that came from not hav-

  ing sex with a man in a long time. I pulled her to me, she gasped.

  I could smell the humid scent of her sex. With a deft finger I

  began to stroke her faster, roughly. She cried out in pain. I sucked

  on her nipples and she tried to push my head down. I was high,

  but not high enough to eat her pussy. Soon her juices dripped

  from my fingers. I stood and she looked up at me in shock, tried

  to read my mind. I spun her around and bent her over the bed.

  Tomica had a beautiful Black woman’s ass, round and fat with a

  slim waistline of a model. I spread her butt cheeks with my hands.

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  As I entered her, I thought of one of the verses from the Bible my

  Dad use to say in church, “It was easier for a camel to go through

  the eye of a needle than it is for a rich man to enter heaven.”

  Tr ying to get my dick into Tomica was like going through the

  eye of a needle. Painful! She began to buck and resist, at one point

  she even tried to fight me. I enj
oyed every moment of it. Finally

  she gave in, and it was easy, long strokes from the back. I ignored

  her crying sobs and enjoyed one of my dreams, to punish that ass,

  the bull dagger that was stealing my shit and was known to have

  a slick mouth from time to time. Then suddenly the dope started

  to talk to me. Some of the world’s smoothest hustlers have been

  dope fiends.

  Something about this bitch ain’t right. Don’t trust her,

  L!

  It was then that I started pounding away inside her body. She

  screamed. The dope was making me crazy. She continued to beg

  for me to stop. I couldn’t stop if I wanted to. It was all hard and

  brutal on her. After about an hour and a half of marathon fucking

  with a malodorous funk to match, I finally took it to the hilt,

  grabbed her hips and the sides of her ass, spread her cheeks as far

  as I could, and with one hard and long thrust, I exploded a shat-

  tering climax deep within her. With the last drop of my semen

  deposited in her, I pulled out and watched as it ran down her

  inner thighs. I looked down at my dick and to my utter shock,

  there was blood on me.

  “Are you on your period?”

  “No, but you hurt me.” She looked back at me and tried to

  smile. She looked like a sad clown with her mascara all ruined

  from the tears she shed. I wiped at the dribble of saliva that had

  started to form at the corners of my mouth. The dope had me

  drooling.

  “With Trina gone, I’ma be your number one,” she said like she

  was asking for confirmation if she had passed the dick test.

  “Number one what?” I asked incredulously.

  “Lady,” she replied as she wiped her swollen clitoris with a

  towel, I noticed the blood in it. She made a face at me.

  “What about your girl Evette?” I asked, catching her off

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  guard.

  “W-W-What about Evette?” she stuttered. And now as I

  looked at Tomica with her fake-ass smile and mascara running, I

  realized that she just took all the humiliation and for what? I

  thought about what Trina said before she left. Evette went to

  Baltimore and was missing. I know that Tomica would never turn

  on her girl unless, something bad happened. But what? The dope

  was telling

  me this bitch setting you up!

  So I did my part, I smiled

  and acted like I was going along with her ploy. I knew that the first

  chance I got, I was going to have to kill her.

  The phone rang, Tomica flinched, startled.

  “Yeah.”

  “We got trouble.” It was Major on the other line.

  “What?” I asked with concern. The whole time, Tomica

  watched me suspiciously.

  “Blazack is at the front gate wanting to get in.”

  I hobbled over to the console with all the television security

  screens and sure as shit, there was Blazack at the front gate parked

  in his Hummer. The ominous fog of the night seemed to cast him

  in a mysterious gloom.

  “L? L? L! You still there man?” Major asked from the other

  end of the phone. I could hear the fear in his voice.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Let him in the inside the house and get

  the fuck out the way!” I said and hung up the phone. I had Tomica

  help me get dressed. Even though the dope helped a lot, I was still

  only about 35 percent of myself in terms of strength.

  “What’s going on?” Tomica asked.

  “Bitch you gon’ help me make it down the stairs.” I reached

  out and grabbed her by the hair, leading her toward the steps. The

  packet of Boy was on the vanity next to the bed. I poured a moun-

  tain in my hand, snorted it and rode the rapturous wings of a

  black stallion named “H.”

  Naked and crying Tomica helped me down the stairs. I was

  sure this was not what she was expecting, not part of her devious

  plan.

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  At the bottom of the stairs Major stood looking at us in awe

  with his mouth forming an O. My face was covered with powder,

  a gun dangled from my right arm and the other arm slung over

  Tomica’s shoulder. Major had a shotgun at his side, it looked as

  old as the mansion.

  The doorbell chimed. I shoved Tomica away and braced

  myself against the brass stair rail.

  “Open the door!” I barked at Major waving the gun.

  “L, man, you ain’t in no condition to be –”

  “Open the fucking door!” I yelled again only to lose my bal-

  ance but regained it.

  Major opened the door. Blazack stood there formidable as

  usual. He looked weary and haggard, he took one look at me hold-

  ing the gun and his eyes bucked wide open like he was seeing a

  ghost.

  “Welcome to Chateau Gangsta’s Paradise, nig-gaaa!” I

  drawled, high as a muthafucka, dead serious on killing his ass.

  He walked in taking in the scene shaking his head, not believ-

  ing what he was seeing. He made a face at Tomica, turned and

  gritted on Major standing in the hall with the shotgun aimed at

  him. Finally he turned back to me and looked sorrowfully.

  “Wha da fuck you call yourself doing nigga?”

  I cocked the gun and aimed at him. He continued to look at

  me defiantly right in my eyes.

  “Dirty is dead man. Lil Man is dead, Gucci is lying up in the

  hospital with two broken legs and internal bleeding.”

  “Bitch ass nigga, you had something to do wit it! Where you

  been the last few days, huh?” I hollered. I felt my hand anxious to

  pull the trigger.

  “Been in jail!” Blazack said angrily. “That cracka Spitler had

  me locked up. Wouldn’t even let me make a phone call. If you

  don’t believe me, call our bail bondsman Fletcher, I swear to God

  he be my witness.” Blazack was talking fast. He knew at that

  moment and time I was dead set on doing him.

  “Let me call the bail bondsman,” Major cut in, possibly sav-

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  ing Blazack’s life. I nodded my head for Major to make the call.

  Sure as shit, Major came into the hall and said that Blazack

  was just bonded out of jail.

  I sat down on the stairs, cupped my head in my hands as I

  thought about the cop Spitler, and how he threatened me. Damn,

  I should have figured it was him and his crooked-ass cop friends

  doing the killings.

  Blazack walked up to me. “Man, you gotta let me Ax Blazack

  that cracka.” That was Blazack’s code word for murder. “He’s all

  yours,” were my final words before I passed out on the stairs.

  8:18 the next morning as planned, Blazack made arrange-

  ments to meet Spitler for his weekly payoff. There was no reason

  for the cop to be concerned. He nor his men would be suspects in

  the spree of murders. They were the police. They were above the

  law, or so they thought. Wrong!

  As usual, they met at the Holiday Inn on Tennessee Street off

  Lake Bradford.

  As soon as the cop entered the room he knew he had walked

  into a trap. Blazack put a gun up to hi
s head, relieved him of his

  weapon, and handcuffed him to a chair. Spitler, the racist cop, had

  too much pride to beg, so he tried to bribe Blazack with money.

  It didn’t work.

  Blazack began to brutally pistol-whip Spitler to a bloody pulp

  even knocking one of his eyeballs out the socket. The cop fainted.

  Blazack threw cold water in his face to wake him back up.

  With a gun pointed to his head Blazack forced him to call the

  police station and tell all his buddies in the narcotic division that

  were down with the murders to meet him outside the police station

  at midnight. After the phone call, Blazack, in a manic frenzy, began

  to hack away with the ax on the cop’s body.

  Wack!

  “This is for my

  nigga Dirty.”

  Wack!

  “Dats for killin’ babies.” After ward, with

  Spitler barely alive, Blazack shoved a stick of dynamite up his ass.

  *****

  Midnight, the cops arrived as scheduled. They saw Spitler sit-

  ting in his car. They all approached in jovial spirits, which was

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  always the case whenever they were going to share some dirty

  money. As the first cop reached the car and looked inside, he saw

  the bloody stump of half a body. Desperately, Spitler frantically

  wiggled his head no but the cop opened the door. The wired

  dynamite of one hundred pounds of explosives detonated.

  Ka-

  boom!!

  *****

  I lay in bed sipping on Hennessy, snorting my medication

  with my dick in Tomica’s mouth. I was numb all the way down to

  my toes. Tomica came up for air. She had dark cycles under her

  eyes.

  “What time is it baby?” she asked. A secretion of cum dangled

  from her lower lip.

  “8:25 in the morning. Why the fuck you keep askin’ me that?”

  I asked, annoyed. She smiled up at me from in between my legs

  and reached over and dug her long fingernail into the powder and

  placed it under my nose. Right then I saw it, felt it, knew it. I saw

  her treachery disguised in her eyes and she tried to mask it with a

  smile. I blew the dope off her fingers and sighed as I lay back on

  the pillow with my eyes closed. There isn’t a hustler alive that can

  honestly say that he did not hear the voice in the recess of his