by Nikki Turner
Tahj hadn't been with Lee a month before she started pinching on his personal stash, both money and drugs. Lee never brought weight into the home, but he did keep coke for recreational use here and there. Tahj smoked a little weed, but she didn't do hard drugs like coke. But she'd sure enough flip it for some fast loot in a heartbeat. She had all kinds of ways to put a few extra dollars in her pocket. Whenever Lee was going out of town for a couple of days, she'd ask him for money to go shopping while he was gone. She'd buy him a little something and simply deposit the rest into her bank account. Lee never asked her what she bought, because she would have already distracted him by presenting him with the gift she had bought him.
If shit else didn't motivate Tahj in life, money did. She knew that was what made the world go ‘round, and without it you could get dizzy just standing there watching it turn. If she found a quarter lying on the ground, she'd pick it up and deposit it into what she called her “the day will come” account. It wasn't family and it wasn't fake-ass friends that kept Tahj moving through life at a rigidly fast pace. It was money. The last thing she desired was any type of comfort from anybody, even a man.
Now cold and callous, Tahj didn't even long for the man who planted the seed for her to be born. As a matter of fact, she didn't know why her mother had felt the need to give birth to her in the first place. It should be against the law for just any bitch to pop a baby out of her pussy and officially earn the title of mother. That was bullshit, as far as Tahj was concerned. There was too much dirt out in the world to do to get caught up in some of emotional bullshit. So Tahj brushed her emotions under the rug like they were broken glass and proceeded to become better acquainted with the streets.
Fuck me! Fuck me good, baby!” Tahj shouted as she balled her fist, twisting and turning her body as her arms remained handcuffed to the wrought-iron bars of the king-size headboard. Her chocolate, five-foot-seven-inch, 125-pound body lay stretched across the bed.
“You like that shit? You like that?” Lee said, slapping her across the face with each stroke.
“Oh, Lee!” Tahj exclaimed as she raised her hips in order to stay close to Lee's dick, which was feeling all too good to her. Going ‘round and ‘round, Lee's dick was hittin’ every corner of Tahj's sugar walls. Tahj had been a virgin the first time she ever had sex with Lee, but over the past few months he had taught her shit that porno stars wasn't up on.
“That's right,” Lee said, his ass cheeks squeezing tight on the downstroke, sweat dripping off of his body onto Tahj's as he pumped in and out of her as hard as he could. That was his pussy. No other dick had even gotten a peek at it, as far as he knew.
But Tahj knew better. She knew how to make Lee feel like the only one, even though he was one of many. In Lee's eyes, Tahj was the sweet girl he had watched plead with her mother that night for the comfort and security of her and her little sister and niece. She was helpless and dependent upon him. But that was just what Tahj wanted him to think about her. Tahj learned early in the game that the more dependent a man thought she was on him, the more he did for her. Just as soon as a woman let a man know she was independent and could do for herself, the less he felt he needed to do for her ass, and the less he felt he needed her around. So while other women were out getting degrees, trying to climb the corporate ladder and shit to impress a man and get a husband, Tahj played as dumb as a box of rocks with Lee and got more than any bitch with a college degree could have.
Being a hustler, Lee was always out clockin’ them ends. New York, B-more, Florida, Chi-town, you name it, and Lee was there. He was away more than he was home. Tahj never saw the logic in all of his hustlin’ if he couldn't sit down, relax, and enjoy it. But like most hustlers, he worked hard planning for a comfortable retirement, not knowing that his retirement home would probably be a ten-by-nine cell, and that it would be Uncle Sam sippin’ on mai tais and enjoying the labor of his years’ worth of work.
No sooner would Lee hit the highway to head out of town to handle his business than Tahj would hit the streets to see what was good and who was good. It was like winning the jackpot when Tahj discovered all the sugar daddies in the hood just waiting to take care of a ghetto princess like her. She never worried about Lee hearing things about her on the streets, because Lee wasn't no street cat. He didn't even associate with those lames. He did big thangs. Niggas on the streets more or less had heard of him, versus knowing him, but he didn't know, nor did he care to know, who those lame-ass knuckleheads were. Lee had no desire to fuck with the little paper that knowing muthafuckas on the streets brought. He was interested only in the Donald Trumps and Bill Gateses of the game. Supposedly, Lee kept only one nigga close to him, and that was a dude who went by the name Zon. But no one really knew him either. Not even Tahj had met him. She had heard Lee talk to him a couple of times on the phone before, but Lee was strict about not mixing his personal life with his business life. Cats would lie and shit, saying that they had hung out and kicked it with Lee at his crib or something. But because no one knew anyone who knew Lee, they couldn't verify the stories—but they couldn't discredit them, either. It was safe to say that Lee was something of a hood legend. So what he had seen in her mother, she never knew.
This was what enabled Tahj to get her own hustle on, and she was definitely the true definition of a hustler. Hustlin’ was doing whatever the fuck had to be done in order to be on top when the game was over. Tahj never wanted to put out more than half of what she was getting. She never wanted anyone to profit off of her. Even if it meant switching price tags on shit in stores or not telling the clerk that there was soda pop under the cart, or even stealing a retarded man's money. Once the game was over, the hustler was the one who got over, and when someone is over, they sure wasn't under, which means they're on top. It was always Tahj's desire to be on top and stay there. Though Lee spent very little time with Tahj, he always made her feel like she was on top.
“I'm about to cum. I'm about to cum,” Tahj moaned as she wildly smacked her pelvis against Lee's. He pushed his back into her. The two looked as if they were having seizures.
“Oh, shit, girl,” Lee shouted as he stuck his index finger into Tahj's mouth. She began sucking on it, allowing slobber to drip down the sides of her mouth.
“Oh, umm,” she moaned, taking in his finger and taking in his dick.
Lee's toned physique all of a sudden went stiff as he let Tahj do all the work.
“Get that dick, baby,” he moaned. “Get it.”
“Uh, yeah, uh, yeah. Oh, God,” Tahj shouted as she began to cum on Lee's dick. This turned Lee on and he picked up the tempo, putting his hand around her throat and thrusting in and out of her.
“Oh, shit!” Lee yelled as he jerked inside Tahj. “Oh, shit, baby.” He then removed his hand from Tahj's throat and grabbed himself as if he wanted to manually shove his dick into Tahj. He wanted to feel her wetness.
“Oh, baby,” Tahj cooed as she came down off of her sexual high. “Oh, baby.”
“Whew. Damn!” Lee said as he rolled over next to her. He closed his eyes and just lay there, breathing heavily.
Tahj looked over at him, watching his chest go up and down. Her eyes grazed his creamy skin, and a smile covered her face. He's so beautiful, Tahj caught herself thinking. Maybe he really does love me. She allowed herself to be taken in by the moment, wondering if perhaps she and Lee could have a real, lasting future together. He was older, so he didn't play the games that the dudes she had hooked up with in the streets played. Maybe he was different from all of the men she had known in her short life. But just in case he wasn't, Tahj decided that she wasn't going to take any chances.
Mi-Mi-Mi-Miss Lady,” Ray stuttered, galloping behind Tahj, who had just gotten the mail out of the mailbox.
“Not now, Ray,” Tahj said, irritated. It never failed. It was like clockwork. Anytime Tahj was outside the house, be it bringing in the mail or the paper, or just watering the grass, trying to be cute in her Daisy Duke shorts, here came Ray the re
tard to fuck with her. Tahj figured that Ray was just some retarded grown-ass man who lived with his parents because he was too stupid to make it on his own. He couldn't function in society, so she guessed he had nothing better to do than to watch for a neighbor to show their face and then bug the shit out of them.
“Bu-bu-but, Miss Lady,” Ray insisted excitedly. “I got some-thin', somethin', somethin’ to te-te-tell you.”
Tahj tried to ignore him by staring down at the mail and walking away from him, but he just kept following her. Finally, Tahj stopped in her tracks and turned to him.
“You know,” she said, glaring at him, ”you remind me of the black guy in that movie The Hand That Rocks the Cradle. You know, the retarded one.” Tahj cut Ray a sharp look, then continued walking.
“Tha-tha-tha-thank you, Missssss Lady,” Ray said with a smile. “No one, no one's ever ssssssssaid I looked like a ma-ma-movie star before.”
Tahj rolled her eyes in disgust. She knew that whatever it was Ray had to tell her, he wasn't going to let her be until she listened.
“All right, Ray,” Tahj said. “What do you want to te-te-te-tell me?” Tahj mocked him.
A huge grin came across Ray's face. “I-I-I-I found a dollar!”
“Yippee,” Tahj said in a meaningless and dry tone.
“Ain-ain-ain't it purty?” he asked, holding it up.
Tahj looked up at the bill Ray was proudly displaying. “Let me see it,” she said, snatching it from Ray's hands.
“Ca-ca-careful,” Ray said.
Tahj examined the bill, then said to Ray, “This is a dirty old dollar, Ray. I have a real pretty one inside. You'll like that one much better. I'll go get it for you.”
Tahj headed up the porch, and Ray followed.
“You wait right here,” Tahj ordered Ray as she opened the door and entered the house.
With the door open, Ray peeked in the house. He could see some guy sitting on the couch with his feet propped on the table. He didn't have on a shirt, and he was sipping on a drink.
Although she did it only on rare occasions, Tahj would occassionally invite one of her tricks over to the house. But they were always from out of town, somebody Tahj would probably never lay eyes on again and who damn sure couldn't find his way back to her spot.
“What’ choo doin', ma?” the guy asked Tahj as she walked over to the table and grabbed her purse from underneath it.
“Nothing,” she replied. “Just getting a dollar for this retarded dude down the street.”
The guy looked over to the door and saw Ray standing out on the porch. Ray was waving and just smiling. The guy waved back. Tahj stood up to head back toward the door.
“Hurry on back in here,” the guy said, slappin’ Tahj on the ass. “Daddy ready for seconds.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Tahj said. ”You could barely eat your first helping.
“Ho, fuck you,” the inadequate trick said, getting an attitude.
Ignoring him, Tahj switched back over to the door and handed Ray a fresh, crisp one-dollar bill, just like she promised him.
“Tha-tha-thank you, Misssss Lady,” Ray said, waving the dollar. “This is al-al-allllmost as purty assssssss you.”
“You're welcome,” Tahj said. “Now get to gettin'.” She watched Ray excitedly walk down the street admiring the fresh new dollar. She closed the door, glad she had acquainted Ray with a nice, clean George Washington, but even happier that he had acquainted her with the Benjamin Franklin that he had actually found.
“That was nice of you,” the guy said once Tahj rejoined him on the sofa.
“Yeah, well, I try,” she bragged.
“So what about them seconds?” he asked as he began to kiss Tahj's neck.
Tahj rolled her eyes up in her head. She had been quite bored with her fill-in sugar daddy, some guy from West Virginia, after only a few minutes of meeting him. She thought he had big bank, but as it turned out, the dude he was rollin’ with was the real G. This guy was just his flunky.
Tahj had met him out at some club called the Gate. Every time she asked him to buy her a drink he'd peel off a twenty and hand it to her. She'd go buy a Coke, minus the rum, and pocket the change. By the time Tahj had spit game and had that nigga in the palm of her hands, ready to pay for the pussy, his partner showed up at the club lookin’ the part of a big bailer. That nigga got to ordering her guy around like he was his bitch or something. Tahj's pussy went dry just witnessing that shit, but fuck it, she had already played up to him half the night. Tahj was sick about it, though. If only she had waited and scoped out the club a little longer before stepping to that lame.
“I can't give you seconds, baby. You know I gotta go to work, and you need to get going. If I'm late, they'll dock my pay,” Tahj lied, because she knew the next thing that was going to come out of dude's mouth. She had played this scene out over and over again. Same scene, different nigga.
“Shit, I'll pay you a day's wages. You ain't said shit, ma,” he said, pulling out several bills and throwing them on the table.
Oh, well, I guess every suga daddy ain't sweet, Tahj thought. But it won't hurt to settle for semisweet every once in a while, I suppose. Tahj smiled and proceeded to put it on him.
CHAPTER THREE
KNOCKED UP
“I know we at your house and it's your bathroom and all, but can a chick piss in peace, goddamn it?” Tahj said to Pooh as she stood in front of the toilet fixin’ to pull her pants down.
“As many times as I done ran up in that pussy, I know you ain't worried about me seeing it now,” Pooh said, not about to take his eyes off of Tahj for even a second.
She huffed, sucked her teeth, and rolled her eyes. “Nigga, ain't nobody tryin’ to trick yo’ ass. What the fuck make you think I wanna be carrying your seed in me?”
“ ‘Cause bitches is scandalous,” Pooh answered. “Now piss on that stick so I can see if a plus sign or a minus sign turn up.”
“Nigga, this ain't no math test,” Tahj said, intentionally stalling. “It's gon’ turn pink or stay white. What the fuck you talkin’ that arithmetic shit for?”
“Just piss already. Damn!”
In between fighting like cats and dogs, Tahj and Pooh somehow managed to find the time to screw. Pooh was what Tahj referred to as her layover. He was just some nigga whose house she could stay in and get a good lay while Lee was away The sex was always off the chain with Pooh's exhibitionist ass. That nigga did everything from lick ass to wantin’ a bitch to stick they finger up his. But through it all, the last thing Pooh wanted as a result of their off-the-hook sexual escapades was a baby. He already had two babies by two different girls from around the way. On top of that, he had taken care of a third little bastard for two years before finding out that he wasn't even the baby's daddy. Come to find out the baby's mother had both him and some other cat thinkin’ they was the father. She was juicin’ both them niggas for mad loot every month.
Once Pooh found out the real, he caught that bitch out at a club and fronted like he wanted to get with her. She went out to his Suburban, willing and ready to suck him to sleep. Just as she leaned over to do her thang he grabbed that bitch by her hair and gripped his other hand around her neck like a fuckin’ pit bull was locked on it. He told her that he didn't care what she had to do to get it, but she was gon’ pay him back every dime he had given her for a kid that wasn't even his. He threatened that the next time she saw the little bastard, he was gon’ be on a milk carton.
Knowing that Pooh was a man of his word, not one to waste time talkin’ ‘bout shit he couldn't make good on, that bitch did everything from raking leaves to hittin’ the block sellin’ pussy to get that nigga what she owed him. Eventually Pooh let her off the hook before she was able to pay back anything even close to all of the money he had dished out to her for that kid. He just had to let that bitch know what time it was so that the next ho wouldn't get any ideas. Some people said that deep down inside Pooh loved kids and would never have done anything to hers. That just
went to show that some people really didn't know Pooh very well.
Every gold-diggin’ ho in the city was trying to get at Pooh. He was rough around the edges, but inside he was smooth as a kite sailing on a windy day. If it just happened to be a chick's lucky day to get a taste of Pooh's fine ass, then more than likely she spent that night schemin’ and manipulating on ways to try to keep him. Just one taste was never enough for the average broad.
Built like a bronze stallion, Pooh stood an even six feet, with dark brown eyes, dark hair that he kept cut in a low fade, and a dark past. A notorious hustler, slingin’ them thangs since he could learn to count, Pooh was known for handling any muthafucka who tried him. It didn't take long for cats to recognize that Pooh just wasn't to be fucked with. Pooh was no hood legend. That nigga was the truth.
Tahj wasn't your average anything either. Wasn't shit gon’ keep her from doing her. The hand she had been dealt wasn't holdin’ the ace, so what the fuck did she have to lose in this lifetime? Takin’ life serious in a world full of muthafuckas who, if they weren't tryin’ to get in the game, were tryin’ to get out, was lame. Life was a game that needed to be played. The only problem when it came to Tahj was that there were no rules and it was always her turn.
Tahj had already inserted the valve she had gotten from a medical supply store into her pussy before she even walked into Pooh's house. It was one of those tubes they used to fill at the doctor's office when taking a patient's blood. She wore a white doctor's coat she had picked up at the thrift store when she bought it so that the store clerk would assume she was a lobotomist or something. She had actually driven to the hood and found some pregnant girl to piss for her. She had to pay her one hundred dollars, but she knew there was a profit to be made at the end.
