Baby Momma Saga

by Ni'chelle Genovese

  I had met this young hood rat way before I started fucking with Honey. Me and Michelle were on one of our “off-seasons.” That’s when she got pissed ’bout somethin’ and no matter what I said, accordin’ to her I was lyin’ or bullshittin’, so we ended up splittin’ up for a few months. Well, that was one of our longer separations and a nigga needed some company. I jus’ had a hard time lettin’ Danita go when Michelle wanted to be “on” again. Everything seemed cool at first, but after dealin’ wit’ Danita for a few months I started noticin’ li’l shit. I’d go over to her place wit’ two or three Gs in my money clip and be missin’ a few hundred when I’d go out the nex’ day. I’d started gettin’ suspicious, and she proved me right when I caught her ass plottin’ to rob me after count one night. She was just an ungrateful-type broad. I was breaking her off decent. I mean, the bitch lived in the projects and didn’t work no-damn-where. I even bought the ho a car. She ain’t appreciate none of that. Had to be greedy and try to get more. I took care of that, though. Yeah, her ass was lookin’ jus’ like the damn Joker now.

  I wasn’t worried about her telling anything. I thought she figured out from the last incident that if she fucked with us again it would be more than just her face that would be taken away. I was gonna make sure I left her place with her life.

  “Naw, Derrick,” I said, “Just keep ya ear to the ground and put the word out to the rest of them niggas that she locked up. Spread the word at County that if anyone hears anything about us from her mouth to get back to us and we got something for ’em.” I was pretty confident that she wouldn’t be an issue, but just in case.

  “All right, man, I got you. We on that shit. Oh, yeah, don’t forget we got count tomorrow at four. I’ll make sure to call all them li’l niggas to remind them ’cause you know they lame asses don’t keep up wit’ that shit.”

  “Yeah,” I answered. I knew one thing, though; they better have that money right or it was gonna be some shit. That was one reason I hated fuckin’ with them young niggas, but they had to learn the biz at some point and they were cheap labor. They were just like young broads. You could throw them a few dollars and they thought they had something. Shit, half of them still lived at home. As long as they had some money to give to they moms and some money left over to go shopping and show off to the young hoes, they was straight. Just as I had hung up with Derrick, Honey walked up to the car.

  “I got you some steak sauce, baby,” she said as she sat down in the car. She was so thoughtful. I had forgot all about my steak sauce and I woulda been pissed when we got to the hotel ’cause I couldn’t eat that shit without it.

  “That’s what’s up.” That was my way of telling her thank you.

  “Look, I gotta make a stop before we head to the hotel, all right? You can go ahead and eat in the car ’cause it’s probably gonna take a minute. Just be careful an’ don’t worry about mine. I’ll just heat that shit up when we get to where we going.”

  “Damn, I must really be special if you gonna let me eat in here.” She giggled and shuffled her food out of the bag.

  “Whateva. You jus’ make sure you don’t drop a fuckin’ crumb an’ we cool.” I couldn’t help bein’ anal ’bout certain things. When a nigga finally get some nice shit it be the dumbasses who ain’t neva had nothin’ to be the first ones to fuck it up.

  As I drove the ten minutes to Michelle’s I found myself glancing over at Honey. She just ate her food quietly and never asked me anything more than what I told her. I figured that she must really trust me and that’s what I needed from her. Whether I deserved it or not I needed that from a woman: unquestionable trust.

  Another Love TKO

  4

  “Ooh, baby. Whose house is this?” Honey stared eagerly at the one-story brick home that I shared with Michelle and Trey. From the outside it looked elegantly massive with the chandelier glowing through the arched window high above the double French front doors.

  “This my homeboy crib. He locked up an’ I promised to help his wife wit’ shit while he gone. I came over earlier to check their water heater an’ I forgot to leave her some cash to pay the plumber so they can replace it tomorrow. I’ma jus’ run in for a sec, okay?” I kissed Honey on the forehead. “Since you been such a good student I’ma need you to use that imagination an’ show me at least three new positions when we get to the room.” I leaned over and reclined her seat just a bit. I left Honey concentratin’ on what we would do later and made my way up to the house. I tried to think of how I could keep Michelle occupied and away from the window. Before I could even finish turning my key in the lock I could hear my son knocking on the other side of the door screaming, “Daddy.” I loved to hear him call my name.

  Michelle peeked around the barely opened door; I nudged it just wide enough to slide in. I could see the red in her eyes from her crying. I didn’t even say anything to her; I just grabbed her around her waist and kissed her. I walked a little farther inside and shut the door behind me. As I kissed her, I could feel all of her tension seep out and her body went limp. I would have probably taken her right there if it weren’t for my son tugging on my leg. I released her lips and bent down to pick up my son. I couldn’t believe he was still up at this hour.

  “Hey, man, what are you doing still up?” His only response was to call my name as he laid his head on my shoulder. Damn, he did feel a li’l warm. I guessed Chelle was tellin’ the truth. I walked into the living room and sat on the couch with my family. My woman by my side, my son on my lap. It felt good to be there with them. I guessed it didn’t dawn on me how much I missed them until I was back with them and saw their faces. Michelle looked fine as hell no matter what time of day it was. Even now with her hair pulled back in a ponytail and her pajamas on, she was fine.

  We didn’t say anything to each other; we just sat there like we did sometimes and enjoyed feeling each other’s presence. Her head rested on my shoulder opposite Trey’s and her hand tangled with mine. Before I knew it, my son had fallen asleep in my arms. I got up to put him in his room. I placed him in his bed and kissed him on his forehead.

  He was my future. I never had my father and I was going to make sure that he never had to grow up like I did. I was going to make sure I was there for him and that he would be left with something besides my name when I left this place. It was becoming clearer to me each day that I wanted to see Trey grow up. I wanted to be there when he graduated high school, bought his first car, asked me for girl advice for the first time. I needed to get some paper stacked up so I could finally go legit.

  I turned to leave and saw Michelle standing in the doorway watching me. Even in the dark, she was beautiful. She always reminded me of this china doll I’d seen at my aunt’s when I was a kid. Huge, luminous hazel eyes surrounded by thick, dark lashes sittin’ in a heart-shaped face. The way the light from the hallway shined around her made her look just like an angel.

  “Come here, baby,” I told her. She walked over to me kind of slow, like she wasn’t sure if she should come or not. I hugged her and whispered, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you needed me. You know I love you, Chelle.”

  She timidly pulled away from me and stepped out into the hallway.

  “Show me you love me, Rasheed.”

  I knew what she wanted. She wanted me to make love to her. But I couldn’t. I still had Honey in the car waiting for me and I had already promised her another ass waxing. I decided that I had to do the next best thing that would satisfy her and make sure I didn’t wear myself out.

  I closed Trey’s door behind me and grabbed the back of Michelle’s neck, pulling her to me. I kissed her long and hard and continued until I could hear her breathing heavily. I slowly slid her down to the carpeted floor and began to move from her lips to her neck, and stayed there until her hands moved from her side to the back of my head.

  “God, Rasheed,” she whispered, “why do you do this to me?”

  I didn’t answer. She didn’t want an answer. She just wanted me to c
ontinue to make her feel good and I knew exactly how to do that. I lifted her shirt up, exposing her breasts. I grabbed one in each hand and began to kiss and suck on them one at a time. She slowly let out a sigh and slid her hand down to the crotch of my pants. I knew I had to move quickly or else I would be in a position I couldn’t get out of.

  I sat up and began to pull her pants down slowly. As I did, I trailed kisses down the soft, warm skin of her stomach, past her navel, and stopped when I got to my destination. I was going to make sure she slept well tonight. I kissed her slowly on her moistened lips, letting her get used to the sensation before I parted her folds with my tongue and gave her what she had been waiting for. I used my tongue to cover every inch of her peach. I took turns licking and sucking and took enjoyment in hearing her moan and feeling her arch her back. I grabbed her waist and held her tightly, making sure she didn’t get away from me.

  She repeatedly called my name and told me over and over how much she loved me. All of this just made my head even bigger. When I thought she was getting close to that point I stuck two fingers inside of her as I flicked my tongue over her clit, and began to stroke her as if it were me inside. She lost control and I had to place my hand over her mouth. It was like there was so much passion inside that she had to let it out. She began licking the underside of my hand as I fucked her with my fingers and my tongue.

  Finally, she squeezed her legs together tightly and let out a sound of pure ecstasy.

  My work was done. I slowly slid my fingers from inside her and sat up. I couldn’t front, a nigga’s mouth was tired and I was glad she finally got hers. She pulled me to her and kissed her juices from my mouth. I knew she was content.

  “Baby, I have to get ready to go. I gotta go ahead and take care of this business so you can have me all to yourself tomorrow.”

  “Okay, Rasheed,” she said, barely able to breathe. “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” I said, and I meant it.

  I helped her up off the floor and she began to fix her clothes. I headed toward the front door but decided to stop at the bathroom before heading out. That’s all I needed was to get in the car with pussy all on my lips and chin. I already had one broad asking questions, I didn’t need two. I took a quick piss; my shit was a little hard so it took a minute. Then I washed my hands real good like them doctors be doing. Shit, you woulda thought a nigga was about to go into surgery. I was scrubbing like hell. I scrubbed my mouth the same way and gargled with the mouthwash underneath the sink.

  I kissed Michelle on the cheek and told her to lock the door. She kissed me one more time and I closed the door behind me. When I got into the car, Honey had reclined the seat back and was fast asleep. Good, no questions, and it gave me a chance to catch my breath. I started the car and headed for the hotel. I was definitely gonna have to eat and take a nap before I did anything else tonight.

  And Still Counting

  5

  I jumped up from the bed, startled by something. I wasn’t sure what it was. I also wasn’t sure where the hell I was. I turned to my left and saw Honey’s sandy brown hair peeking from underneath the covers, and then I remembered. We were at the hotel. That’s what happens when you try to be the shit and knock off two chicks in one night.

  I looked at the alarm clock on the hotel nightstand. It was 6:00 a.m. Damn, a nigga’s day was starting already. I had to meet up with the crew around 4:00 p.m. to do count. I always got there a few hours early. I drove around a few times first to make sure things looked normal and calm. If one thing looked out of place I would call the count off or switch up our spot.

  I really ain’t feel like going through all that extra precautious shit today, but I definitely didn’t mind since paper in my pocket was the end result. We did count about twice a week depending on how fast shit was selling. Last week we had to do count three times. That was a first. But you ain’t see this nigga complaining.

  I always walked out of count wit’ no less than ten Gs. So that was thirty Gs last week and this being our second count for this week, which was another twenty. That ain’t even including the money I got from my political connects. Virginia is stupid strict when it comes to strip clubs and black owners. It’s almost like they find reasons to shut down black-owned establishments just for the hell of it. I had a few politicians who came in here and there. Old, stuffy, straight-as-an-arrow-lookin’ white muthafuckas. They got a couple of dances for free, the girls offered a little hot mouth, and since Martha or Ingrid ain’t puttin’ it down at home, they accepted. In return I got a li’l extra pocket money and my spot stayed official. I wouldn’t have been surprised if we had another three-count week before the month was over with.

  I was starting to get too much money. I didn’t know what to do with it. It ain’t smart to leave that shit where you lay your head and I definitely didn’t want to put it in a bank. If a nigga get caught up that’s the first place the feds look. I wanted to make sure that if something did happen to me my son would still have something left. Michelle had helped me get some real estate with most of the money so my shit seemed legit. I already owned three apartment complexes, an office building with ten suites, a condo complex with six units, and I was partial owner of the Hot Spot.

  That’s where we did our counts. It was like our little hangout. I picked the basement of the Hot Spot for our counts for one simple reason: after count, most of the crew ended up upstairs with the dancers, spendin’ the money they just got on some money-hungry ho, when they had families at home they needed to be taking that money to. But shit, that just put my money back into my pocket.

  The way me and my boy Derrick ran the club was a sure-fire guarantee that we made cake. We charged the dancers who lap danced a booth rental fee, just like them hair salons. In return they got their own private station that they could have set up any way they wanted. We even let them choose their own lighting.

  It kinda helped with business ’cause it made our customers feel like they could be more discreet. They didn’t have to worry about other clients watching them cum on themselves. And the ladies felt more in control. Having their own station made them feel like the client was coming into their territory. I thought it made them perform better. They fixed it up so they felt comfortable. Shit, I say whatever make the money come in was what the fuck we were gonna keep doin’.

  We also offered safes in each booth so that the girls had somewhere to put their money besides the dressing room. This way, we didn’t have to worry about girls stealin’ and the scheming-ass hoes couldn’t lie and say they had their shit stolen to try to get out of paying their fees. Only three people knew the codes to the safes and that was the dancer, Derrick, and me. It seemed to be working so far. Still, I wanted to get the count over with.

  Honey began to move around in the bed. It dawned on me that I never did hit her off that second time. Shit, my ass was tired last night. But I figured I was rested up enough for a quickie.

  “Wake up, sexy.” She began to stretch and turned over to me with a smile.

  “Why you up so early, daddy?”

  “You’ll see. Turn back over, I owe you one, remember?” I wanted to get right to it, without using up all my energy.

  * * *

  I ordered a Heineken from Annette, the bartender. I didn’t want to drink too heavily during count. When you get fucked up, your money can end up fucked up too. Besides, I had to see Michelle and Trey later on today. I didn’t want to be around them liquored up.

  I saw most of the crew’s cars in the parking lot, so I knew we could go ahead and get started when I got downstairs. I wanted to check out our surveillance cameras first, though. No one knew about the cameras but me. I had one hidden camera on the bar with a view of the cash register (bartenders steal too), one in each booth (that way I knew who was fucking or giving blowjobs for extra dough), one each on the front and back doors, and one in the count room in the basement. Everyone in the crew had access to the count room at any time, so I wanted to keep an eye on whoe
ver thought they were able to do something in secret there.

  It was only 2:30 P.M. so I had a little bit ’til it was time to start. Plus, I knew them niggas. They were having a good time drinking and feelin’ up on the hoes. That would keep ’em busy for a minute. My office was like my second home. I sat behind my desk and entered my password into my desktop, opening my “eye in the sky” archive. I fast-forwarded through most of the first day. The room was empty the whole day except for Day Day from the crew and Ecstasy, one of the strippers, sneaking off to fuck. I had to laugh when I saw that shit ’cause the clip didn’t even last five minutes. Quick-ass motherfucker! If it weren’t for the fact that I didn’t want anyone knowing about the camera, I would’ve been jokin’ the hell out his ass.

  I turned off the tape. The last thing I needed was to go to the meeting with my shit sticking out. I would watch it again later. I made my way back out into the bar area.

  “What up, nigga?” Big Baby sauntered in through the door to my office. This nigga had the laziest laid-back stride. I didn’t think I’d ever seen his big ass move in a hurry for anything. “Glacial paces” was what I called that shit. Watchin’ that nigga walk was like watchin’ an ice glacier make its way across the ocean. Slow.

  “Nothin’, nigga, I know one thing though, y’all niggas had better have my money.” I minimized the surveillance footage just in case he glanced toward my screen.

  “Oh, for sho nigga. You know I been on my crew hard ’cause I want my damn cut. I got appointments and thangs once dis shit over wit’. Jingling dingling, nigga!”

  Big Baby was a funny dude. If you couldn’t tell from his name, Big Baby was a big dude and he had a baby face. He looked just like a little kid in a grown-ass man’s body. Most of his appointments probably wouldn’t even be fucking with his ass if it weren’t for his humor and his money. He walked over and handed me a small, crumpled piece of paper.