by T'Anne Marie
“I tried and I tried to avoid but this thing was happening, swallowed my pride let it ride and parted. But this body felt just like mine, I got worried. I looked over to the left a reflection of myself, that’s why I couldn’t catch my breath,”.
The words of Tweet played on through the speaker. Kyra was so turned on; she couldn’t help but to touch herself. She began to slowly and softly caress her nipples. Once they were fully hard, she gave them soft pinches. The feeling made her body quiver and gave her pussy a pulse. The more she caressed her big chocolate nipples, the harder her clit became and the wetter her pussy got. She took her two right middle fingers and slowly inserted them in her warm vagina. Kyra gyrated her hips to the beat of the music while she plunged her fingers in and out her juice box. She then took the middle finger of her left hand and started to rub her hard protruding clit. She let out a soft moan, she felt just that good to herself. Kyra dug her fingers deeper and rubbed her clit harder and faster. The speed of her hips got faster as she could feel herself about to climax. “Ooooh shit!” she moaned as she squirted all in her bath water. “Damn I needed that,” she said to herself. She knew she couldn’t wash herself up in the water she had just squirted in, so she stood up and let the water out. When the water was almost gone she turned the shower head on and washed herself up. After showering, Kyra cleaned the girls tub and headed to her bedroom. When she got to her room she was so relaxed she just laid on her back naked in her king sized bed and stared at the ceiling. Her mind started to wonder as she thought about her late husband Notorious. It had been almost 4 years since he had gotten killed, but to her it still felt as if it happened yesterday. Notorious was all she knew. He was her first and as of right now her only. She hadn’t met, let alone dealt with any other man since he passed. The worst part is she never even got a chance to give him a proper home going, because they never found his body. All they found was his car running with his keys in it, and traces of his blood. Kyra knew her husband was dead. She could feel it, but not being able to see his body fucked with her in more ways than one. Tears began to trickle down the sides of her face into her ears. She wished that she could see her husband in flesh, even if it was only for a second. Kyra was so deep in thought that she totally lost track of time. When she turned and glanced at the clock it was 10:45. “FUCK!” she shouted. She quickly jumped up and grabbed her towel to wipe the tears from her face and ears. She then went to her dresser and got a pair of pink Victoria’s Secret boy shorts and a matching bra. After putting them on, she oiled her body with her Mad About You body lotion that matched her bubble bath. She followed by rubbing Degree fresh deodorant under her arm pits. She walked in her big walk in closet and put on a pair of dark denim Robin jeans with the crystal wings on the back pockets. She grabbed a pink and turquoise plaid Robin button up and put it on to match. She buttoned the shirt up enough to show off her perfect cleavage. She topped the outfit off with a pair of pink Prada tennis shoes. To accessorize her outfit, she decided to put on the 3 karat diamond matching earrings, necklace, and bracelet set Notorious got her the last anniversary they shared before he was killed. She then snatched her silk sleeping cap off and let her jet black, wand curled Malaysian hair flow. She fingered her curls to her liking and blew a kiss to herself in the mirror. After she was all dressed, Kyra grabbed her RAW box and rolled her a blunt for the road. After rolling up she snatched her Michael Kors bag and keys off of her dresser, ran down the steps, and out the door. When she got outside, she hopped in her 2013 Mercedes G-Class. She started the engine, but before she pulled off she had to play her song. “Spell my name in the game I know they want me to fail. Tell em, I’m winning; tell em, I ain’t going nowhere. Roll you one, light it up; put ya lighters in the air. We winnin, we winnin; keep that hating shit over there.” The sound of Dej Loaf “We Winnin” played through her speakers. Kyra was feeling herself. She put on her Prada shades, sparked her spliff, and pulled off. The blacked out Jeep followed suit.
Chapter 1
How it all began
“Where my fuckin money nigga!?” (smack, smack) Murder Man shouted furiously as he was pistol whipping the fuck out of Big Black for betraying him.
“I don’t know what you talking about Murder I promise!” Black cried. He was leaking blood from his left and right eye.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about fuck nigga, now keep fuckin playing dumb bitch!” (smack, smack, smack). Murder Man was showing no mercy. He didn’t play about his money, and he was sure to make an example out of anyone who did.
“Murder please, please don’t hit me no more man. I would never steal from you man! Why would I bite the hand that feeds me?” Black was so scared he would say anything to get out the situation he was in. Murder Man had him hog tied to a chair in a basement of a vacant house beating him to a pulp. Deep down Black knew he was about to die. He had been cutting the corners off of Murder’s bricks since he first started working for him. Murder was moving so much weight, he never noticed. Black probably would’ve still been getting away with it if one of the other workers wouldn’t have caught him in the act.
“I’m the nigga that put you on fuck boy, and this how you repay me!?” (smack, kick, smack) “Nigga if it wasn’t for me yo sick ass momma would be dead by now, cuz I’m the nigga that pay her doctor bills!” (kick). Murder kicked Black in his rib cage so hard he almost lost every breath he had in his body. Dorian was as stiff as a statue as he watched his deranged father beat Black damn near to death. He couldn’t believe what his young 11-year-old eyes were witnessing. He knew his father didn’t play any games, but he had never seen him like this. At that moment he realized why the streets named his father “Murder Man”.
“Murder, Murder, I’m sorry man please, I’ll pay you back every dime! Just please don’t kill me man please! I got a kid and a wife that need me, I thought we was better than this Murder come on man!” Black was trying to compromise his way out of getting sent to meet his maker. He was covered in blood and he had globs of snot running down his nose from crying so hard.
“You thought we was better than that? Nigga, you was stealing from me and you gon fix yo mouf to say some shit like that!?” (Pop, pop) Murder shot black in each knee.
“Ahhhhhhh!!! FUCK!!” Black screamed out in pain. “Jus kill me man, you ain’t gotta keep torturing me bitch!” Black said in anger and spit at Murder from his bloody mouth. Black knew he wasn’t walking out the vaco alive, so he decided to go out like a G.
“Ha, ha, ha,” Murder laughed, “after all that crying and begging you did now, you tuff pussy?” (kick). He kicked him in the mouth and Black started to spit out all his fronts. “I got something for yo bitch ass tho,” Murder said, as he turned around and signaled for his young son Dorian to come to him. When Dorian got over to him, he threw his arm around his shoulder. “Son, today you gon learn what happens to fuck niggas who betray you! I ain’t never did shit but be good to this nigga and he had the nerve to betray me! That mean he takin food out yo mouth! So, guess what? I’ma let you handle this nigga,” Murder told his son. Murder then placed the chrome .38 Smith & Wesson in his 11-year-old son’s hand. “Kill that pussy,” he told his son in a stern tone. The cold steel of the gun sent chills through Dorian’s body. His heart was pounding harder than a drum. He couldn’t believe what his father wanted him to do. “Shoot that nigga now Dorian!” Murder screamed in rage.
Dorian was terrified. He aimed the gun at Black’s head; his hands were shaking like a stripper he was so nervous. “Fuck you lil nigga! You ain’t got the heart!” Black shouted. “You a lil biii-” (pop, pop, pop). Before he could finish his statement, young Dorian put three holes in his head like a bowling ball. He stood there frozen in shock. He couldn’t believe he had just caught his first body at 11 years old.
“Let’s go son, and loosen the fuck up you did what you had to do,” Murder said. Dorian was numb. His mind was still trying to grasp what had just taken place. He was no longer young Dorian, that day he became “NOTORIOUS
”.
Chapter 2
8 Years Later
“First off, fuck yo bitch and the clique you claim. West side when we ride come equipped with game. You claim to be a player but I fucked ya wife, we buss on Bad Boy niggas fucked for life. Plus, Puffy tryna see me weak hearts I rip. Biggie Smalls and Junior Mafia some mark ass bitches! We keep on coming while we runnin for yo jewels, steady gunnin keep on bustin at them fools, you know the rules.”
Notorious bobbed his head to 2Pac’s hit song “Hit Em Up” while he cruised through the St. Louis streets. He was pushing his maroon 1996 Impala SS sitting on 22-inch rim IROC-Zs. In the passenger seat was his right hand man Whack. Him and Whack met when Notorious was 13, and Whack was just 11. Whack was out there young and reckless. After losing his father at just 9, it was fuck the world and everyone in it. At the young ages of 19 and 17, Notorious and Whack ran one of St. Louis most ruthless hoods called “The Tracks”. After Notorious’ father “Murder” got life with no parole for murder and possession of 13 kilos back in 89’, he was forced to step up and take the throne. “Now u tell me who won, I see them they run. They don’t wanna see us, whole Junior Mafia clique dressing up tryna be us. How the fuck they gon be the mob when we always on our job? We Millionaires, killin ain’t fair but somebody gotta do it!”
Whack screamed the lyrics, waving his 9mm handgun like he was aiming it a crowd of people. “Nigga put that fuckin gun up, what u waving it for?” Notorious asked.
“Nigga you know listening to Pac make my trigger finger start itching, I’m ready to lay me a nigga down!” Whack said kissing his tool.
“Damn lil nigga, chill out. It ain’t go time yet, yo lil ass always ready to shoot something! Crazy ass!” Whack really was crazy. Anybody that crossed him in any way was sure to be pushing daisies. When he was 11, he stabbed a homeless man over 50 cents. They boy was pure psycho. His nickname wasn’t “Whack” for play. Notorious pulled up to his grandmother’s house on the Fountain Circle. “Come on fool, let’s go see what Grams up in there cookin,” he told Whack.
“Shit yeah, that’s what the fuck I’m talkin bout. I’m hungrier than a muthafuckn hostage!” Whack said while rubbing his stomach. They both hopped out the car and headed toward the house. When Notorious and Whack walked in, they could smell the aroma of food coming from the kitchen.
“GRAAAAMSS!” Notorious yelled through the big beautiful brick house as he walked toward the kitchen.
“Heeeey, my favorite grandson,” his grandmother said, smiling from ear to ear when she turned around and seen his face.
“Wassup Grams? Dang, you got it smelling all good up in here,” Notorious said, while giving his grandmother a big hug and a big kiss on her cheek.
“You know your Grams can burn,” she replied, hugging her grandson tight while rocking him side to side. She then turned to Whack. “Hey sugar, you better give me some love,” she said, extending her arms for a hug.
“Hey Grams, wassup?” he said, while giving her a big hug in return.
“I know ya greedy tails hungry. Once the corn bread done, I’ll fix ya plates,” she said, laughing. She already knew what they came for. They loved stopping by to eat.
“Boy, I know granddaddy sick you left cause you shol know how to treat a man!” Notorious said, chuckling.
“Boy, you know you so silly. That’s why you my baby.” His grandmother laughed at him. “Now, get yawl butts up and go wash up. Dinner will be ready shortly,”
Notorious and Whack got up and left the kitchen. “GO WASH UP!” Whack said laughing as soon as they got out of Grams ears shot. “Why Grams still be talkin to us like we still lil babies?” he didn’t like that shit. Whack was a grown ass man if you asked him.
“Nigga, you already know how she is; we are still her babies in her eyes. Shit she still try to slide money in my hand when I come around, and I pay all her damn bills,” Notorious said, laughing.
“What nigga? How that sound?” Whack said, while squinting up his face.
“Exactly my point, that’s Grams for yo ass,” he replied. They both just laughed. Grams took Notorious and his little sister Carmen in when her son got locked up. They barely knew their mother. She got strung out on crack a little after Carmen was born, and left them with their father. His father was great at taking care of them financially, but by him being one of the city’s biggest drug Lords, the things they were exposed to fucked them up mentally. Their father even sometimes made them do his dirty work. He saw it as teaching them how to survive the streets. Normal kids were learning their addition, multiplication, subtraction, and division. Notorious and Carmen were learning how many grams were in an ounce, and the difference between hard and soft. If it wasn’t for Grams enrolling them in school, they would’ve been dumb as doorknobs.
“Grammy Grams I’m home!” Carmen yelled as she was walking through the door coming from school. Notorious hid behind the dining room door so he could scare her as soon as she tried to walk pass. When she got close enough, he jumped out. “Rraahh Muthafucka!” he screamed. Carmen quickly jumped back in fear and screamed at the top of her lungs.
“Man, Dorian, you play too damn much!” she said, smiling. Carmen was happy to see her big brother. Ever since he had moved out, she barely got to see him anymore. When he came to Grams’ house, he was always in and out, and most of the time, she would be at school. Notorious was so busy messing with his sister, he didn’t notice that she had a friend with her. She caught his attention fast though when he finally looked up.
“Carmen you so rude man, who is yo lil friend?” Notorious asked smiling while biting his bottom lip. “Aw shit my bad,” Carmen said with a slight grin. She knew by the look on her brother’s face that he was interested in her girl. “This is my friend Za’Kyra. Kyra, this is my big head big brother, Dorian, but everybody call him Notorious,” she said, introducing the two.
“Hey nice to meet you,” Kyra said, while extending her hand for a hand shake.
“Nah, lil mama, we give hugs around here,” he said, grabbing her and pulling her close to hug her. Damn, her lil ass fine and she smell good, he thought to himself.
“Okay, that’s enough!” Carmen said, putting her arm between them and breaking their hug, which to her was a second too long.
“Damn, lil sis, you stay cock blocking,” he said, laughing.
“Nigga, ain’t nobody blocking! You my brother, so I know how you get down. You better go push up on them other hoes, cuz my friend off limits. Plus, she too young for you anyways!” Carmen quickly shut his thoughts down. Well, at least she thought she did. She then grabbed her friend’s arm and they headed to the kitchen. Little did Carmen know, Kyra was feeling Notorious just as much as he was feeling her. Hell, maybe even a little more. How could she not? Notorious was fine as hell. He was light brown with hazel eyes. He stood about 6'1" with a real muscular frame. His lips were big, full, and looked as soft as pillows. He wore a low cut with a lining fresher than Steve Harvey, and his waves could make a muthafucka sea sick.
Jesus, I’ma marry that boy, Kyra thought to herself as she looked back staring at Notorious. She wanted him bad and she was going to get him by any means necessary.
“Come on and eat yawl!” Grams yelled from the kitchen. Whack ran from the second floor down the steps so fast, he almost broke his neck.
“Damn nigga, the food ain’t going nowhere. Slow yo ass down running and shit,” Notorious said jokingly.
“Ewww, what he doing here?” Carmen said with her face frowned up when she seen Whack walk into the kitchen. Whack had been around for years, but it was just something about him that she just couldn’t stand.
