Desperate hoodwives: an urban tale

by Meesha Mink; De'nesha Diamond

  My momma needs this. She’s so worried about Nasir. Shit, so am I. White folks plus the South plus a black boy equals jail time for a nigga every time. Nasir been fucking with some white chick and little Nancy, Elizabeth, or Becky Sue or whatever the hell her name is put all the details in her diary — the same diary her momma snuck and read. Police were called. Rape was accused.

  Nasir is in some deep shit.

  The lawyer says he can probably get Nasir off but that set me back another couple of grand. That plus his bail money and my brother’s in my pockets deep. Needless to say I done schooled him on them white girls and since his choice in vanilla pussy was costing me that had better be a wrap on his love of the swirl. “You’re welcome, Momma,” I tell her, resting my face back on the table.

  One thing my momma always teaches us. Family looks out for family all the time.

  I reach for my new limited edition crocodile Gucci hobo as I climb out my Benz. I’m looking good and feeling good in a fitted Applebottom jumpsuit and sexy stilettos. Fat ass. Thick thighs. Flat waist. Oh the body is banging. Trust.

  I already dropped Momma home and I’m stopping by Wal-Mart to get a supply of blunts for me and magazines to send to Maleek: Vibe, Source, XXL, and of course, Grip, based right in Atlanta. I’ll throw in the newest Vibe Vixen for good measure.

  My bikini wax has the pussy as bald as Michael Jordan and just walking in and out of Wal-Mart makes my lips rub together. That shit makes me horny as hell.

  Six months is a long time to go without dick. I’m not talking about them tricks of mine where I lie there faking the funk with “Fuck me, Daddy,” “It’s so good, sugar,” and “I’m cummin’, honey” lies.

  Fucking for money and fucking for fun is two different things. And ain’t but so many times I can masturbate. Miss Palm and her five fingers is getting old.

  I need to be fucked. Ain’t like I’m not giving up the ass anyway so I might as well find me something to knock the edge off. A live body. A hard body. A nigga who know how to work it.

  No ties. No phone calls. No conversations. No relationships. None of that.

  I’m pulling out my spot in the crowded parking lot when I see a familiar face walking out of Wal-Mart. I pull up next to him after a quick look around the lot for any more familiar faces. He bends down and looks through the open passenger window.

  Junior the jump-off.

  “Get in,” I say, before he can open his mouth and disturb my groove as I open my legs to ease the pressure of my thighs against my pussy.

  “My car right up —”

  “Just get the fuck in,” I tell him, my voice hard. I look straight ahead. “And don’t say one word.”

  He hops in and I speed out the parking lot.

  As soon as we walk into the hotel room at Knight Inns in midtown I drop the condoms I just bought at the gas station on the chipped wooden table and start to undress.

  “Dayum, girl,” he says, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes out of his clothes.

  His dick is already hard and curving away from his body. I check him out. So that’s the dick all the girls be talkin’ ’bout. Well, the Lord blesses everybody with something and it’s obvious Junior got all his blessings below the belt.

  “Damn, your body is sick,” he says, massaging his hardness as he eyes my hourglass frame.

  I snatch a magnum from the box and toss it to him before I move to the bed to snatch the covers back. “Don’t talk, Junior, just fuck me,” I tell him, already feeling nervous and anxious as my pussy throbs and aches. I’m wet and ready.

  He shakes his head as he stretches the condom down on his dick. “Fuck that. I been begging you for that pussy for the longest. I’m gone enjoy that motherfucka fo’ sho.”

  Junior climbs on the bed and spreads my legs to lie between them. He grabs my titties with both his hands and holds them up as he starts to lick my nipples like they’re candy. I shiver and my hands shoot out to grab the sheets to keep from grabbing him. When he presses my titties together and sucks both of the long and thick nipples at once I close my eyes and arch my back. “Aaah,” I cry out as he licks and sucks, bites and plucks them with his tongue.

  He moves down to lick from my deep cleavage down my flat stomach to suck my navel even as he stretches his arms to keep teasing my nipples with his fingers.

  “Yes,” I cry out, squirming on the bed as my breathing gets harsh as hell.

  Junior takes the whole of my bald pussy in his mouth. My legs shake. I look down at him. He looks up at me and winks just as his tongue splits my lips to circle my clit. I feel my juices dripping as I buck my hips off the bed and spread my legs wide.

  “That’s right, give me this good-ass pussy,” he says, shifting his hand down my body to slip first one and then two fingers deep inside me as he moves his tongue like a snake over my clit.

  “Good, ain’t it?” I ask, letting go of the sheet (and my control) to put one hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of his head.

  When his hands shift down to massage my ass before working up my legs to jerk them in the air I play with my own nipples. Junior rises up a little to push my legs until my ass is open wide in his face. He looks me dead in my half-closed eyes as he licks from my clit down between my wet lips to circle my asshole before he sucks it.

  “Ooooh, Junior,” I cry out as my pussy throbs.

  I feel his laughter as he goes from my ass to my clit and back again. Ass. Clit. Ass. Clit. Ass. Clit. Ass. Clit.

  “Shit, I’m cumming!”

  Junior drops my legs and they land on his shoulders with a jiggle as he locks his lips down on my clit and sucks away like crazy.

  I holler out and try to squirm away from him but he just locks my legs down and holds on as I cum in his mouth. My body jerks and thrashes, my throat gets dry, my heart is pounding. I’m shivering. Sweaty. Hot. Near a black out. Spasms wrack my body ’til I think I see God.

  Junior gives my pussy a kiss before he rises up and turns me over on my stomach. I lift up on my knees as he slaps my ass and slips his dick inside me.

  I hiss and clutch the pillows to my chest as he starts sliding in and out. The sounds of my juicy pussy echoes in the room. “Fuck me. Fuck…me.”

  “Knew this pussy was good. I knew it. Damn!”

  Junior bends over my back and reaches beneath me to squeeze my titties and tease my nipples as his balls slap against my clit with each hard thrust.

  I bite the pillow.

  He bites my shoulder.

  I reach behind him to squeeze his ass and push him deeper into my pussy as I adjust to the feel of him.

  “Let me ride it,” I tell him.

  His dick slides out of me with “whoop.”

  I squat over him and hold that dick up with my hand as I ease down onto it. Locking my feet under his legs, his mouth latches on to to my right breast as I start working my hips against his. Each “pop” makes the hard base of his dick rub against my clit. The feel of his tongue and lips on my throbbing nipples turns me on even more.

  “You need this motherfuckin’ dick, ain’t it?” Junior asks as he reaches to grab my ass and slam my hips down onto his dick.

  “Yes. Yes. Yes!” I drop my head to his sweaty chest.

  That is just the beginning of the sexcapade. We fuck like crazy. Switching it up like crazy. Doggy-style, rodeo-style, straight-up style. On the sink. On the floor. On that rickety, scratched-up table. In front of the faded mirror. Against that mirror. Against the wall. Against the door. On the chair. At the foot of the bed. The head of the bed. On the sides. Frontward. Backward.

  Me and Junior get stupid. Fuck it. This is my night and I want it every fucking way I can get it. This is my damn stress reliever.

  “I’m ready to get this nut,” he tells me as I’m bent over the TV clutching it for dear life as he pops my pussy and tries to blow my back out from behind.

  I use my ass to back him out of me and lead him back to the chair to push him into it roughly. He stretches his
legs out as I climb on that dick and wrap my arms around his neck.

  Shit, if he’s gone cum I’m gone get me another nut too.

  I circle my hips nice and slow and his mouth gets twisted as he holds on to my hips.

  “You’s a bad bitch, Aisha. Damn, gurl. I gotta get some more of this pussy.”

  I just laugh. I feel the first waves of my nut and sit up straight to let my head fling back as I ride him. I feel his dick get bigger and harder. I bite my bottom lip and purr as I cum and cum and cum and cum. “Yes. Yes. Whoo. Yes.”

  Junior cries out like a bitch and tries to hug me close to him as his hips jerk with his own nut but I brush him off and raise my arms above my head like I’m riding an electronic buffalo or just riding a good-ass high.

  Once I’m done I stand up on wobbly legs and stumble back from his ass.

  Junior stands and falls into the bed, his filled condom still hanging from the tip of his drained dick. “Damn, I got to sleep that shit off.”

  “Yeah, uh-huh,” I say, even as I start gathering up my clothes to get dressed.

  “Just let me get a nap and I’ma fuck the shit out of you again.”

  “Uh, no,” I tell him, dressed and looking beneath the blankets on the floor for my car keys.

  Junior turns over on his back and looks at me in surprise. “Where you goin’?”

  I see my keys beneath the table and snatch them up. I open my purse and pull out four fifty-dollar bills. “I’m going home. Now you know if you tell anybody about this that Maleek will either kill you when he get out or get somebody to kill you while he still locked up.”

  Junior looks confused.

  I toss the fifties onto his chest and turn to walk to the door.

  “You not taking me to my fuckin’ car?”

  “Call a cab,” I call over my shoulder before walking out and slamming the door behind me.

  I look down at my diamond-encrusted watch. It’s just seven thirty. I have just enough time to make it home before Maleek’s nightly call at eight. I can even talk to him longer tonight because after all that dick ain’t no way I’m going to work tonight.

  “You have a collect call from a federal correctional facility —”

  I press one before the automated voice can even finish. I carry the cordless into the living room and curl my body into one corner of the couch.

  “Whaddup, Queen?”

  “Missing you like crazy,” I purr. (Okay, not as crazy as before the money drama but he didn’t need to know that.)

  “Yeah, I miss you too, baby. I never knew I would get sick of jackin’ off in this motherfucka.”

  And there wasn’t but so many times I can masturbate. That’s why I got me a little fuck-thru today. Whatever guilt I feel rise up in me I push away. “Just don’t think about it, baby.”

  He gets quiet.

  “I’ll be glad when this is all over,” I say with honesty. Once Maleek’s home — or I get together my own stable — it’s a wrap on Diamond.

  “You? Shit, me, too. I’m sick of this shit, Aisha. I’m sick of being in here.”

  “Don’t worry, King. You’ll be back home running these streets in no time.”

  “Back running them? Who said I ain’t running shit now?”

  I start to say, “Me, bitch. I’m saying it. Where the loot if you the head nigga in charge?” but I chill out on that. “Damn right and I better not catch nobody saying it,” I say, soothing his ego and pride. I shrug my shoulder. Whatever.

  “Listen, Aisha, if my trial…if I get time…if I don’t get the fuck outta this…this shit —”

  “Don’t, Maleek.”

  He sighed — fucking sighed — into the phone. “Ten years is a long time, Ish.”

  “We gave that attorney all that fucking money.” I sit up straight. “Oh, hell to fucking no on ten fucking years, Maleek. Hell to the no!”

  “Aisha, I’m just keepin’ it funky.”

  I jump to my feet, bumping the table and sending my wedding picture face forward with a crash. “Well, let’s keep it funky then. Why give them motherfuckas our life savings and you still sittin’ in that motherfucker talkin’ ’bout ten years? We paid them all that dough just for them to stand up beside you in fucking court?”

  The line is silent.

  I drop back down on the sofa and close my eyes as I take a deep-ass breath to keep from crying. I’m so angry at him. So disappointed in him. So hurt by him. There is so much shit I’ve been dying to say to him the last couple of months. Shit that weighs down the tip of my tongue.

  I have to say them.

  “You know, Maleek, if you didn’t think the lawyers could get you off or get you less time then why would you blow our whole stash and leave me out here fuckin’ broke, busted, and damn disgusted. Everythin’ you ever told me to do I did. You moved in these nasty-ass fucking apartments and I stayed right here with you. I didn’t fuckin’ complain. I ain’t said shit. Now you left me here and I’m still here waiting on you.” Tears are streaming. My heart is pumping. I slash my hand in the air like he can see me. My throat hurt from hollering. “Preparing for ten years wasn’t leaving me ass-out with no money in this motherfucker. That wasn’t preparing for no ten years. Right now I feel like you said fuck me, you know?”

  The line is quiet again. He ain’t have shit to say.

  I drop my head to my chest as my tears drop down on my thighs.

  “If you wish to make a call please hang up and dial your number again.”

  He hung up.

  I drop the phone to the floor and reach out to stand my wedding picture back up. The glass is broken.

  23

  Lexi

  “On everything I love, fool, if you don’t get the fuck out my face I will bust your ass in this bitch tonight.”

  What the hell? I lift my head off the pillow and look around the dark bedroom.

  “You think I’m a let a female whup my ass?”

  I drop my head back on the pillow and laugh.

  “Our neighbor upstairs wake you up, too,” Luther says from behind me as his arms tighten around my waist.

  “Yup. Give ’em ten minutes and they’ll be humping like dogs.”

  “You think I’m a let a man whup mine? Nigga, please. You got me mixed up with one of them dumb bitches you fucking around with.”

  “Oh trust me, no the hell I don’t.”

  Two weeks ago a new couple moved into the apartment above us. The Millers and their loud sexcapades moved on out and these fight-me-now-fuck-me-now freaks moved on in.

  “What time is?” Luther asks, his voice still filled with sleep.

  I peek one eye open and look at the alarm clock on the bedside table. “Six o’clock.”

  Luther set up in bed. “They fight all night and sleep all day while we working.”

  “Well, not me. I’m off today. Thank God for that.” I turn and lay my head in his lap while he turns the TV on with the remote.

  “That’s your first day off since you got that new position, ain’t it?”

  I lift up to lean my body back against his chest. “Yeah, I make a little more money as a customer service manager but that eleven-to-seven shift and them classes for the house twice a week is killing me.”

  “You can pack your shit and go, Clevon.”

  “You want me gone so bad, Tammy, you pack it.”

  “If I touch your shit it’s going right out the fucking window.”

  Luther raises the remote and turns the volume up on the TV. “It will all be worth it to get the hell up out of this oversized cardboard box.”

  “And miss out on the ghetto soap operas?” I nudge Luther and point to our bedroom windows.

  Just as the sun was rising in the sky it’s raining Clevon’s clothes.

  The kids been out of school for the last two weeks and since the day camp at the Y costing $150 a week per child — money we just didn’t have — they spent most of the summer cooped up in the house under Trey’s watch until me, Luther, or WooWoo get
home. They happy as hell to hear I had the day off. As soon as they ate breakfast all of them went scrambling out that door with jump ropes, balls, and skates.

  I tie a scarf around my hair before I throw on a pair of shorts and one of Luther’s wifebeaters to clean the house like I’m on a mission. Mice and roaches are inevitable in a place with this many apartments but I try to keep our place free of places for them to feed or sleep.

  Half hour later the smell of ammonia damn near knocks me out, so I open the windows and the front door. The window in my apartment looks out on the rear of the complex so I walk down to the end of the hall to look out the window at the kids playing. I’m almost back to my apartment when I hear a commotion and turn to see Aisha’s door open as two big deliverymen carry in a steel side-by-side refrigerator.

  “That girl crazy,” I mutter to myself. If I had just a little bit of the money her butt blew on clothes and dumb shit I’d be in my damn house, not filling up a project apartment with shit people in the ’burbs own.

  And she had to be sitting on some money because her husband’s been gone for a minute and her shopping hasn’t slowed up any.

  I’m in the tiny kitchen burning the hair off some chicken wings at the stove when my whole body kind of tingles.

  “Dayum, girl, you fittin’ them damn shorts.”

  I drop the wing in the fire and have to snatch it out before I whirl around. “What are you doing in here, Junior?”

  He steps up and I step back, feeling the counter press into my behind. “The kids said you was up here and I came to bring you this.”

  He pulls the front of my shirt and drops something in it before I can blink.

  I pull the bottom of the shirt out and money falls in my hand. I count it. Fifty dollars. “Junior, we got a thirteen-year-old and ten-year-old. The last child support check I got was three weeks ago. You never helped me get the sneakers or the cheerleading uniform. What I’m supposed to do with this?”