Thug Lovin'

by Wahida Clark

  “Give me some head, Kyron.” What she really wanted was some dick. But Kyron’s was forbidden. She was serious when she said they could play. That’s as far as it could go. She leaned back, spread her legs, and closed her eyes. Instead of some tongue action, Kyron had plunged his dick into her hot and aching pussy.

  Tasha’s eyes flew open, her heart fluttered as Kyron grabbed one of her legs, put it over his shoulder and then…

  Footsteps began charging down the steps.

  “Yo, man of the hour! It’s time to bounce. Kaylin said for us to leave now. He is gonna meet us at the club later on,” the intruder yelled out as he was making his way down into the basement.

  Kyron hurriedly pulled out of her, pulled her up and off the pool table, and then put his dick in his pants.

  Tasha practically ran past and knocked over the two dudes who were now in the basement. She ran all the way upstairs to her bedroom and slammed the door. When she turned around Trina was standing there grinning, holding Tasha’s coat up.

  “Let’s go, Sis. Time to party. We are riding in Kendra’s car.”

  All the way to the club, Tasha was in a daze. Forbidden. Here I am fucking a nigga without a rubber. All I wanted was some head, she repeated to herself over and over.

  “What is the matter with you?” Trina asked her.

  Tasha only shook her head.

  While at the club, Tasha’s body was there but her mind was stuck on stupid. It was awkward because she tried to avoid Kyron and was feeling that everyone knew that she was creeping around with him. Because she was paranoid and not having a good time she was ready to go. After a couple of hours Kendra came and got her.

  “Grab your coat. Kyron is waiting for you upstairs.”

  The club had three floors. The second floor was for the reggae heads, the third floor was for the hip-hoppers, and Kyron’s party was on the first floor where the house music was booming.

  Kyron was waiting by the coat check. His fur was over his arm and he motioned for Tasha to take off hers. She did and handed it to him. When she turned around Kendra was gone.

  “Shouldn’t you be downstairs at your party?” Tasha asked as he checked their coats.

  “I want to party with you a little bit,” he said as he grabbed her by the wrist and began leading her to the other side of the dance floor. The sultry reggae music had everyone up close, bumping and grinding.

  Kyron made it all the way over to the corner, where he pulled Tasha up close and they began to dance. Bumping and grinding and exchanging kisses, that was only meant for couples in love.

  “What if somebody sees us?” Tasha moaned as she rocked her hips to the beat and over his hard-on. His back was now up against the wall. Both hands slid up her thighs, up under her dress. He slid her thong to the side and when his fingers ran across her clit, she dug her fingers into his shoulder and with the other hand she ran her fingers through his low-cut curly hair. Her eyes were closed and her head fell back as he played with her clit and stuck his fingers in and out of her pussy. The harder she dug her fingers into his shoulder the more skillfully he worked her pussy, bringing her to the brink of coming. He then came to a sudden stop.

  Her eyes popped open! She was no longer rubbing his curly head, and the hand that had been digging into his shoulder was now grabbing the front of his shirt.

  “You see somebody?” He shook his head. “Then why did you stop?” She sounded desperate.

  “Let’s get our coats.”

  “What?” she snapped, her mouth hanging open and pussy soaking wet.

  “C’mon.” He grabbed her and they went to get their coats. Other than a quick phone call he didn’t say anything as he helped her put on her fur and led her outside and around the corner to a side street. They sat on the back of Kendrick’s Beamer. He pulled her hood up over her head and did the same for himself. He pulled her close and they began to kiss, his hands all over her body.

  “We fuckin’ later on?” he whispered into her ear.

  “Umm-um,” she moaned. “No, Kyron.”

  He lifted her up, her knees straddling both of his thighs. He wasted no time fingering her pussy, putting her at the verge of coming. He pulled his dick out and began rubbing the head over her clit. When she started coming he plunged inside her. Shocked, she began trying to get off the dick, pushing and scratching him, which did no good. He held her firmly in place on his dick.

  “No, Kyron. This is rape,” she groaned as he began hitting her spot. “Oh, God. My spot.”

  Just then Kendra pulled up beside them. Her window came down. “Sorry to interrupt y’all’s little party but they need Tasha at the house to watch the baby.”

  They both ignored her and continued to fuck.

  “Y’all heard me? Anyway, Kaylin said he’s been calling you, Kyron.”

  “Get rid of her.” Tasha began sucking on his neck.

  “I thought you said this was rape.” He smirked, then told Kendra, “Drive around the block. Then you can take Tasha to the house.”

  Kendra sped off and Tasha rode his pole, busting a nut right before Kyron busted his. A satisfied Kyron stuck his dick back into his sweats and helped Tasha down. He smoothed his hands over her dress and up her coat.

  “You know that you were only a fuck, right?” Tasha asked him.

  “Oh really?” He leaned over and kissed her on the lips.

  “A revenge fuck.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Kendra pulled up right on cue. Kyron opened the passenger door for Tasha. She got in and they pulled off.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Kendra pulled up into Kaylin’s driveway, dropped Tasha off and left. Before Tasha could stick her key in the lock Angel opened the door with a crazy look on her face.

  “Girl, I did not know that he was here,” Angel whispered, then said out loud, “Jahara is already sleeping. She should be out for the rest of the night. Come on, Kaylin.” Angel put her fingers up to her ear to say call me.

  “Thanks, baby girl,” Kaylin said, then kissed Tasha on the cheek, and just that quickly they were headed out to Kyron’s homecoming party at the club.

  Tasha’s eyes adjusted to the dim lights. Her heart fell to her feet when she saw Trae sitting on the couch with his coat still on and his legs crossed. She took a deep breath, tried to act nonchalant and as if he wasn’t there and headed straight for the stairs.

  “Tasha, come here,” Trae barked.

  She froze in place, right there on the fourth step. There was no doubt in her mind from the tone of his voice that he was not playing.

  “I need to use the bathroom, Trae.” She tried to use that as an excuse to get upstairs and buy some time.

  Trae turned on the lamp and got up and headed toward the stairs. He made note of the fur coat she had on as she rushed up the stairs with him right at her heels. He wanted to tell her to get her ass back downstairs even if she had to piss on herself. But since he was there in peace, he didn’t.

  When she made it to the bedroom, she threw off her coat and flung it along with her purse across the bed before rushing into the bathroom and locking the door.

  “Shit.” She gritted as she noticed that her hands were shaking like leaves. She looked around the bathroom and noticed that Angel had removed all of the towels and washcloths. And here she was standing there with no panties on and another nigga’s come on her thighs.

  Trae’s knocking on the door caused her to jump. “Tasha, come on out of there,” he demanded.

  “Damn, can I at least use the bathroom?” She began balling a wad of toilet paper together, wetting it and then wiping between her thighs and pussy.

  Trae knocked on the door again. “Trae, wait a minute.” She tossed the wad into the toilet and flushed it. She stood in front of the mirror, fixed her hair and her clothes. She took a deep breath before opening the bathroom door.

  She looked at her husband, who was casually dressed in a black Coogi sweater, black slacks and a pair of soft crocodile shoes that she’d
bought him.

  “I came in peace, Tasha. I just want us to get an understanding before you come back home.”

  “Home? I’m staying here in New York. I told you, Trae, I want a divorce.” She stormed past him and headed back for the stairs. She wanted to get out of the bedroom. They were too boxed in and if she needed to make a run for it, the bedroom was not the place.

  “Why are you talking crazy? I’m not giving you a divorce and you are not staying in New York.” He followed her back down the stairs into the living room. She sat down on the La-Z-Boy, he sat on the sofa. He watched her as she crossed her legs and folded her arms across her chest. “You are coming back home with me.”

  “You said you came in peace and that you want us to talk and come to an understanding. I told you I want a divorce and I’m not going back, so let’s talk about that.”

  “Why don’t you want to come back? What the fuck you doin’ up here? You got a lame up here buying you a couple of furs and some bullshit-ass jewelry and forgot who the fuck you are? Did you forget about the three kids and the home you have? Your sons need you to come home and you have a husband that wants you to come home.”

  “I don’t care what my husband wants. My husband should have thought about that before he started trickin’ himself out for houses, nightclubs, paintings and money. And, nigga, you’re the one who is out here trickin’! Or did you forget all about your dick leaking?” she snapped.

  Tasha was furious as she remembered the embarrassment of having to be treated for trichomoniasis. She was now standing in front of him and screamed, “Oh, you don’t like it when the shoe is on the other foot, do you? Of course not. You that same nigga that sold our marriage vows and trust for a few million dollars. You started this shit, Trae, so I’m damn sure going to finish it. You got me fucked up.”

  “So two wrongs are supposed to make it right?” Trae asked her with calmness. She hated when he did that.

  “Right? I didn’t make them wrong, Trae. You did.”

  “I know I did, that’s why I’m here. Shit, Tasha, I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. What the fuck you want a nigga to do?” He grabbed her hands. “Give us another chance, Tasha,” he pleaded as he looked up at her.

  “It’s too late, Trae. It’s over.” She snatched her hands away from him.

  “The hell it is. You talkin’ crazy. You forgot that we said for life and death? So if you leave, you must be ready to die.”

  “Now you are threatening me?”

  “Tasha, you know it’s not over between us; you’re just mad at me and I’ll give you that. But I miss you and love you more than anything.” He began to rub her ass. “Daddy fucked up and he’s sorry, and, baby, you know I am not letting you go. I miss us, Tasha.”

  “Trae—” Tasha got choked up because she knew deep down and without a doubt that one of them would need to be dead before she would be free of this man named Trae. “That’s not fair, Trae. Let me go.” His hand was now under her dress, and his face was between her thighs. She turned to push him away a few seconds too late.

  “You don’t have on any panties?” He smelled her pussy and smelled the sex on her. He chuckled in disbelief. Tasha began to back away from him. “You bitch!” he spat. “Straight like that you got a nigga standing here beggin’ your ho ass, and you got the nerve to be talkin’ all this it’s-over bullshit and marriage this and marriage that and yo’ fuckin’ pussy smells like another nigga’s nut!” Then he stood up and smacked the shit out of her. “Who is he, Tasha?”

  Oh shit. “Calm down, Trae,” she squeaked. She was petrified.

  He smacked her again. This time so hard she flew backwards, damn near flipping over the La-Z-Boy.

  “Who is he, Tasha? I will body that nigga! Is it the same nigga who bought you that coat and the necklace around your neck?” He went over to her and snatched the necklace from around her neck.

  Tasha was still in shock, holding her face.

  “I asked you his name, Tasha.”

  She took off running for the stairs.

  The next thing you know, Trae’s coat was off and he was right behind her.

  “What the fuck is the matter with you? We are married and you are up here trickin’ my pussy away?” Trae slapped her across the back of the head, damn near knocking her up the steps. “Have you lost your muthafuckin’ mind? You gonna run off and leave your children so you can fuck niggas? I warned you, Don’t make me come up here and get you.” He kept slapping her. “What the fuck is the matter with you? You ain’t no muthafuckin’ teenaged chickenhead. What is the matter with you? Bitch, answer me.”

  Tasha’s fresh hairdo was all over her head, a button had popped off her blouse and she was boo-hooing. Not sure if it was from the surprise of Trae beating her ass or from the hard slaps he was putting on her.

  “Answer me, dammit!” He started choking her. “What the fuck is the matter with you? I didn’t marry no damn chicken.”

  She let out a loud wail and then screamed, “I hate you, Trae. You have been fuckin’ bitches, so what the fuck! It’s over between us. I want a divorce.”

  The word “divorce” infuriated Trae to the point of rage. He lost all focus. He continued to beat the shit out of Tasha. They ended up back down the stairs and didn’t know how they had gotten there.

  Tasha was sprawled out across the living room floor. Trae was standing over her. It was as if he had blacked out and was now back to reality. He was wondering how she had gotten there on the floor.

  “Tasha, baby, get up.” He went to grab her arm and she started screaming, swinging and kicking wildly.

  “Get away from me! I hate you! Why?” she wailed. “Why did you do this to us?”

  “Baby, I’m sorry. Dammit! I’m sorry.” He swooped her up and laid her down on the couch. He rubbed her back while telling her how sorry he was, and telling her that he would never put his hands on her again. “We are going back home in the morning. I miss you so much, baby.”

  Tasha appeared to be in shock as she lay there crying, but not releasing any sound. The tears were slowly streaming down her face as she stared blankly at the man she loved. She couldn’t even protest when she felt him enter her.

  Trae and Tasha left New York early the next morning before anyone was even awake. Tasha didn’t want anyone to see her bruised-up face and body. As much as her heart still said that it was over, it seemed that this was the remedy to put things back in perspective. She knew exactly what type of nigga she married, and when Trae said that he would kill her she knew he meant it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Back in California, Tasha had tried to stay in the house with Trae but couldn’t. The house itself had too many memories and it was beginning to fuck with her mentally. She had to get out. She lasted two weeks and couldn’t make it another day. She packed up herself and the kids and ended up staying with Trina in her two-bedroom apartment. They had been camped out now for almost three weeks.

  Kyra, Marvin, Aisha and King were still all missing. Just the thought of something happening to Kyra and Aisha was driving her crazy as well, and to date no one knew where they were.

  Tasha was in the kitchen feeding the boys. She had fried chicken, baked macaroni and cheese and the boys’ favorite candied carrots. Trina had left the house early that morning so Tasha and the boys had the apartment all to themselves. She had fixed their plates and had sat down to eat when someone knocked on the door and rang the buzzer.

  “The door, Mommy,” Caliph yelled.

  “I heard it, baby. Eat your dinner.” Tasha got up to open the door. When she saw it was Trae, she rolled her eyes and left him standing there. He still hadn’t gotten over the fact that he beat Tasha’s ass and that she had fucked a nigga behind his back. He was trying his best to deal with it and felt that until he found out who it was so he could handle him, things couldn’t go back to normal. So even though he could have, he didn’t stop her when she packed up and came over to Trina’s. But now he wanted her back home.

&
nbsp; Tasha went back into the kitchen to finish her dinner.

  Trae closed the door and came into the kitchen carrying an edible arrangement of chocolate-covered strawberries and chocolate-covered apples in one hand and a bag in the other. He was dressed in a black suit.

  “Daddy!” all the boys yelled, jumping up from the table to greet Trae.

  “I miss y’all,” he greeted them and set the bag on the counter and gave Tasha one of her favorite treats.

  “Where you was at?” Kareem asked.

  “Daddy had to go to a funeral.”

  “A funeral?” Shaheem asked. “Can I go?”

  “Me too, Daddy,” Caliph joined in.

  “A funeral is not a fun place to go. Sit down and finish your dinner.” They finally found Rick, or rather what was left of his body. And his name was not Rick. It was Jason. His wife had decided to cremate him. The police were looking for Marvin, so Trae figured that was why Marvin took his family and got ghost. No one knew that Kyra was gone. Trae understood all too well that a nigga had to check another nigga about his woman, which sometimes would lead to death. And he knew that Kyra fuckin’ with Rick was trouble.

  “Trae, what is this?” Tasha held up the plastic bag.

  “Some whiting. I’m hungry; can you fry that up for me?”

  “I already cooked, Trae. There is plenty enough here for you to eat.”

  “I want some fish, baby,” Trae said as he took off his suit jacket and hung it up. He then went to the sink, washed his hands and sat down.

  Tasha sighed and dumped the fish into a bowl and began to wash them off.

  “Y’all want to go see Pop Pop and Nana tomorrow?”