The Sheisty Saga

by T. N. Baker

  He took us to Night of the Cookers in Brooklyn, which surprised me, because it was a nice, cozy, laid back spot. They had a live band, candlelight, and good food. Money wasn’t an issue with C-God. He told us to order what we wanted. Even paid for his broke-ass friend—or should I say broke-ass boy? That’s exactly what Reggie was.

  Tanya was doing a lot of drinking, as if she was trying to be down or prove something. More power to her, because I wasn’t about to get drunk, lose focus, and make a fool of myself.

  C-God was so funny, and ain’t nothing like a man with money that can make me laugh. Damn, I had to have him. The thought stayed in my head all night. When Tanya got up to go to the ladies room, I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

  “What’s up?” I leaned in closer to C-God. “I know you want me, just ’cause of the way you keep looking at me. So let’s stop the game playing and make it happen.”

  “Aggressive, ain’t we? I like that,” he said with a smile.

  That was it! That was all he had to say, even if he was feeling Tanya. The way he looked at me, it was impossible. I ain’t never had to work this hard for no nigga, and I wasn’t ’bout to start.

  Just then, Tanya came back to the table smelling like she’d been hanging with hurl (throwing up), so we decided to call it a night.

  The seating arrangement was different on the way home. Instead of Tanya sitting in the front, C-God told her to take the back seat and Reg was going to sit in the front with him. I was curious to know why, but she didn’t question it, and neither did I. Besides, Tanya was wasted and out cold within a matter of seconds.

  When we reached my apartment, C-God told Reggie to take the car and make sure Tanya got home safe. I smiled, because I knew it was only a matter of time before he’d come to his senses.

  “So, you coming with me?” I asked.

  “No doubt.” He followed me to my door.

  Inside, I decided to set the mood by lighting some aromatherapy candles and turning the radio on to Vaughn Harper’s “The Quiet Storm” on WBLS. I swear the sound of that man’s voice could get my panties moist any night of the week.

  Before I could say a word, C-God was already undressing me. His body was so hard and muscular, and so was his dick. He worked his tongue from my breasts down to my wet and pulsating pussy and didn’t stop working until I reached my climax. I returned the favor, because I had the dick-sucking skills to get a nigga hooked—and of course that was the plan. It wasn’t because I was worried about him and Tanya, but because I wanted him all to myself. Besides, he couldn’t be stupid enough to go back to burgers after havin’ steak.

  I gave him the pussy in every position possible: standing up, doggy style, legs up in the air, and even rodeo style. We went at it for hours, until we finally fell asleep. In the morning, I gave him some more.

  He had it going on. I swear I had never been with a man that could make my coochie cream the way he did. The only thing that kept interrupting the flow was his cell phone and two-way. They were seriously competing with one another. I wondered if any of those calls were from Tanya, but I didn’t ask.

  After working up an appetite, we showered off the sex, got dressed, hopped in my car, and went to grab a bite to eat.

  I asked him, “What’s the status with you and Tanya?” His answer was that she was cool and he fucked her a couple of times, but outside of having a fat ass and nice set of tits, he really wasn’t all that attracted to her. He felt that I, on the other hand, was the real deal, someone he wouldn’t mind kickin’ it with, spending a little dough on, or maybe even wifin’ me up in a nice condo outside of the hood.

  “As long as you good to me, I’m good to you,” were his words.

  Now, that’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout! I smiled and asked, “Wasn’t I good to you last night?” Joking around with each other was something we both enjoyed doing. Then, he got a call that he couldn’t put off and our brunch was cut short.

  Chapter 8

  KEISHA

  “Oh, shit!” I screamed as the water started to run down my legs. “Tucker, get up. It’s time!” I shouted, waking him out of his sleep with my bag packed and ready to go. I had felt light pains all night the night before, so I packed what I thought I might need to take with me to the hospital early that morning. The real pain hadn’t kicked in yet, but all I knew was I was ready to get this little boy out of me and into my arms.

  Tucker got up and started to panic more than I was.

  “I’m fine. Calm down,” I screamed. “Just take me to the hospital.”

  When we got to the hospital, I was only four centimeters, but they admitted me anyway because my water had already broken. I called up E and Shana because I wanted them to be there. I ended up having to leave messages for both of them.

  My sweetie was by my side the whole time, anticipating the arrival of his son. I couldn’t ask for a better man. As soon as I had this baby, I was gonna start putting the pressure on him about our wedding plans, before he even thought about taking his ass back out of town. My girls thought I had the perfect situation, but it’s always nicer on the outside when you’re looking in.

  The pains were starting to hit me hard, real hard. I knew it would hurt, but I never imagined like this. Tears fell down the sides of my face, and the love of my life was now my enemy. I didn’t want him to touch me; I didn’t want him near me. His voice of support saying, “Push. It’s okay,” pissed me off even more. He couldn’t begin to know what I was feeling.

  * * *

  Ten hours of excruciating pain was finally over, and I was holding the most beautiful baby I had ever seen. Now, all I needed was some sleep.

  When I woke up, my room was filled with flowers, teddy bears, and balloons that said “It’s a Boy” and “Congratulations.” To my surprise, Epiphany and Shana were sitting there watching TV, waiting for me to wake up.

  “Hey,” I said, still feeling a little tired but excited to see my friends at the same time.

  Epiphany smiled and bragged about how cute my baby was. She had jokes, talking about, “I wonder who he got his looks from. He is too cute.” I was so glad that she came to see me. She looked so happy. It had to be a new man that had her smiling so much. Tucker told me that she wasn’t fucking with Mali anymore.

  Shana just stopped by to see me and the baby. She said she couldn’t stay because she was working nights now.

  “Shana, not you with a job. Doing what? It must be illegal,” Epiphany said, laughing.

  “Well, not everyone needs a man to take care of them,” Shana said, not finding Epiphany’s comment amusing at all. “I’ll come check you when you get home, Keisha.”

  “What’s wrong with her?” E said.

  “I don’t know, but she looks tired,” I said, trying to make an excuse for her attitude.

  “I ain’t been feeling her,” E said. “You know I paged that bitch nine-one-one a couple of times and she never called me back.” I just shook my head because I knew how it felt to have a friend not return your calls. “I wonder what kinda job she got anyway. She’s probably on the corner selling drugs or something,” Epiphany said, being real snobbish.

  “That’s not nice. Maybe she has a real job, Epiphany. Besides, you guys are friends, so y’all need to stop trippin’,” I said.

  “I don’t know, Keish. You see that little comment she made about me getting money from men? Sounds like jealousy to me. Anyway, speaking of men, girl, remember C-God?” she asked.

  “From where?” I asked, not sure whether or not I knew who she was talking about.

  “Corey, that used to hang with Walter and Stevie that lived around the corner from us,” she said.

  “Black-ass Corey Hinderson that used to try and talk to everybody back in the day? Where you see his ugly ass at? I thought he was locked up,” I said, disgusted, making her not even want to tell me the rest of her story.

  “Well, he’s not ugly anymore, and he got money,” she said, rolling her eyes at me. Just then, Tucker walked in—perf
ect timing. Epiphany congratulated him, said good-bye, and was out the door.

  “What’s up, Mommy? Thanks for my little man. He looks just like me,” Tucker said.

  “You’re welcome. You know that was some painful shit, and I just wanted to apologize for being so mean to you.”

  “It’s cool. I know you didn’t mean it,” Tucker said, accepting my apology.

  I kissed his lips. “I love you, and I hope to spend the rest of my life with you, until death do us part.” Hint, hint.

  Chapter 9

  SHANA

  I swear, sometimes Epiphany could just irk the shit out of me, always thinking she was hot shit. Like she was really concerned about where I worked. Shit, now that I thought about it, she was the last person I wanted to know that I danced. I was glad I hadn’t tried to plug her ass in, because if she wasn’t with it, she was the kind of person that was gonna hate on me for doing it, with her trifling-ass. If I hadn’t left when I did, it would’ve been a girl fight up in there. I was tired of her with that “I’m better then you attitude” and her slick “You from PJs,” remarks. That shit was kinda played. On top of all that, I had a helluva hangover, too, so, oh hell yeah, it would’ve been on in that hospital.

  I had gotten my head right at Scar’s ladies only party the night before. She had a li’l of this, a li’l of that: cocaine, weed, and E pills. We called them the “freak-off drugs,” ’cause they made you wanna get freaky and downright nasty. Shit, the theme was sex and a good time, and I’d had too much of both that night. I was supposed to be dancing at Honey’s tonight, but I was not even in the mood. I called Chasity to see if she wanted to stay home and just chill with me, but she gave me the bullshit about how we needed to go make that money.

  She was right, as a matter of fact. I could use the money since I had just spent $200 on a week’s worth of Ecstasy. I couldn’t dance without them, but I also started taking them just ’cause they made me feel good. Shit, I guess that was their purpose—to make you feel good.

  * * *

  Honey’s was packed, but that didn’t always mean you were gonna make a lot of money, ’cause fifty percent of the niggas wanted to see the pussy spit fire for a fucking dollar. About twenty percent would come up out their pockets, and the rest of the niggas was straight up trying to get some ass.

  A couple of weekends before, this nigga threw beer in my face and demanded his money back. I told him just because he paid me ten dollars for a lap dance didn’t mean he could bust off on my ass. I reached for my razor when, lucky for his ass, security came and tossed him out for making a scene. I was ’bout to give his ass a buck fifty slice, to cut him deep until the pink meat was exposed, right across his face.

  Nasty bitches like Peaches were having these dudes getting shit twisted, thinking anything went for ten or fifteen dollars. Her anorexic-ass was over in the corner, up against the wall, pretending she was dancing when she was really selling pussy for twenty bucks. The ho knew that shit was against floor rules. That was why we had the champagne room. But niggas didn’t be wanting to pay that hundred dollars for those kind of privileges, and the tricks didn’t be wanting to give up that twenty percent to the club owner. Shit, I wasn’t trying to knock nobody’s hustle—and I ain’t gon’ front, I done sold pussy many a night to get by—but it wasn’t what you did, it was how you did it, and these hoes was fucking up the game.

  As I squeezed my way through the funky little changing room/bathroom to get dressed, or should I say undressed, I overheard two strippers named Mahogany and Diamond whispering that some baller was out there tricking off a knot of cash and buying out the bar. That shit was music to my ears.

  “Chasity, hurry up. There’s money out there, girl,” I said.

  “You ain’t said nothin’ but a word. Let’s go.” She smiled.

  The deejay was playing my song, “There’s Some Hoes in This House.” It wasn’t hard to figure out where the real money was, because the hoes flocked to him like he was Jay-Z shooting a video for “Girls, Girls, Girls.” Only thing wrong with this video was that most of the bitches in here looked like “who done it and why.” I mean, they were tore up from the floor up, so it wouldn’t be hard to steal the nigga’s attention.

  Chasity’s pretty-ass was a big flirt anyway, and a hustler, like me. Automatically, a scheme came into play, ’cause great minds do think alike. The plan was to get him to spend some money here, then hit a telli (motel) on some two-for-the-price-of-one type shit, fuck him to sleep, and rob his ass.

  “Would you like a dance?” Chasity asked him.

  “Nah, I’m good, but what up with you and your girl giving my man here a dance? It’s his birthday.”

  After like five drinks, I lost count as far as how many dances we gave his boy. I also changed the plan about trying to rob dude. I was feeling him a li’l something. I was feeling him even more when he peeled off four hundred-dollar bills from the money stashed in his right pocket and gave me and Chass two hundred a piece.

  “I didn’t get your name,” I said with a smile.

  “That’s because I didn’t give it. What’s yours?” he said, showing his pearly whites. “Sha—I mean, Cream,” I said, almost giving up my government.

  Chocolate boy wonder wasn’t giving up nothing else but a smile. “I’ll be back to check you, shorty,” he said as he got up from the bar to leave.

  I hit him back with a quick response. “I’ll be waiting.” It was only 1:00 a.m. I had a couple of hundreds in my pocket and still three hours left to dance my sets and make some more. Shit, I wasn’t mad at all.

  “Chasity, did you get dude’s name?” I asked.

  “Nah, but his boy’s name is Mike. He gave me his number.”

  “Oh, really,” I said with a li’l hate in my tone.

  Chapter 10

  EPIPHANY

  I dozed off watching the amateur night part of the Apollo when the phone rang and woke me. I debated on whether or not I should answer or let my machine pick it up. I looked at the caller ID and decided to answer.

  “Yo, what up, ma? What you doing?”

  “Who’s this?” I said, knowing exactly who it was.

  “Damn, after all the good-ass pussy you been giving me, you still don’t know who dis is?” he said.

  “Oh, hey, C-God. What’s up, baby?”

  “I hope you and me, ’cause I’m in front of your crib.”

  “So what, you tryin’ to come in?”

  “Oh, no doubt, but for now why don’t you throw on something and come take a ride with me?”

  “All right. I’ll be out in five minutes,” I said. I jumped up and threw on a pair of Gap jeans, a baby tee, and a pair of Chanel shoes, then ran to the bathroom, took off my head scarf, and combed down my wrap. I brushed my teeth and put a little Oh Baby M·A·C gloss on my lips, with liner, of course.

  When I got out to his truck, he was in the passenger’s seat. I assumed he wanted me to drive.

  “So, where we going?” I asked.

  “Let’s go get something to eat, ’cause a nigga starvin’.”

  I wasn’t really hungry, but I could tell C had been drinking, so maybe a little food would sober him up. I suggested Georgia Peach, this diner on Queens Boulevard. He already had his eyes closed and seat leaning all the way back. I guess it was left up to me.

  “Hey, wake up. I’m gonna just go place your order to go. What do you want?” I said.

  “Order me some chicken fingers and fries.”

  After getting his food, I drove back to my place. He came in and fell out on my bed.

  * * *

  Two months had passed since I started fucking around exclusively with C, and to my surprise, I wasn’t even tired of him yet. We had lots of fun together. He seemed to be doing all the right things. Not only did he give up that paper willingly, but he made me feel like I was the sexiest bitch to ever walk the planet. Sometimes, we would just take a late night ride, smoke some trees, and listen to slow jams. I felt safe with him.

&nb
sp; Niggas knew not to fuck with him. He had a reputation for murdering niggas in a heartbeat, friend or foe. That was hard for me to believe because I hadn’t seen that side of him yet, although I did hear him talking on his cell to his boy Mike about some cat that had the Carolinas and Virginia on lock and was selling his weight for cheap prices, so his clientele was large.

  “Yo, I want you and Ness to keep an eye on that nigga. Find out who else he down with, ’cause that nigga trying to stop me from eating, yo, and it ain’t gon’ happen, son. What, yo! Just do what the fuck I said and holla back from a pay phone. A’ight, out!”

  I walked in the room right as he slammed the hood down on his Nextel, feeling kind of turned on by his authority.

  “What up, ma?” he asked.

  “I’m about to show you,” I said as I kneeled down on my knees and unzipped his pants. I began to deep throat his thick ten and a half inches of hardness.

  “Um, damn, that’s what’s up. You tryin’ to turn a nigga out or something? Don’t stop,” he moaned and moaned some more.

  I knew I had him right where I wanted him. His body started to jerk as he clutched on to the edge of the bed and began to breathe heavy. “Oh, shit. I’m about to cum,” he said. Normally at that point I would have stopped, but his excitement made my pussy start to cum as well, so instead of stopping, I drank them babies.

  “C, next weekend my girl Keisha—you remember Keisha, right?”

  “Yeah, she kinda short, brown skin, right?”

  “Uh-huh, that’s her.”

  “Who she fuck with?” he inquired.

  “This guy named Tucker.”

  “From where?” he continued.

  “He’s from Brooklyn, but they live together out here in Jamaica. Anyway, listen. She’s baptizing their son, and I’m gonna to be the godmother. You wanna come with me?”

  “Nah, that ain’t my type of party,” he said.

  I got a little attitude. Shit, after one of my best head jobs, “No” was not what I wanted to hear. As those thoughts ran through my mind, he must’ve noticed the disappointment on my face, because he started explaining his reason.