A Big Girl's Revenge

by Ms. Michel Moore

  “Girl, why you keep dealing with him?” another friend asked her, holding a lunch menu at Friday’s. “I thought you knew better than to let some low-life Negro from the hood play you like you worthless. You act like you ain’t hear that bullshit him and his boys was saying that day at the park.”

  Waiting until the server left after bringing Keisha and her friend two glasses of raspberry lemonade, she responded, “Remember, he didn’t say none of it, plus he’s not playing me. We have fun when we hanging together.” Keisha blushed, only having had her young pussy slightly licked before meeting Rico, but never any real penetration. “Plus, dang, I’m not even gonna tell you what else we have fun with. You just hating on us.”

  Keisha’s friend was not trying to hear shit else her girl was saying. “Look, crazy, stop being so naive. And hating? Bitch, please. Are you serious? Even Ray Charles can see what that shady perpetrator is up to. He’s straight up using you. You don’t even know that fool. He might be a murderer for all you know.”

  “Girl, please.” Keisha took out her cell phone, showing her friend all the text messages Rico had sent to her over the past few days, proclaiming his love in one sentence, then let’s go shopping in the next. “Look, he on my shit. Every thirty minutes he’s checking up on me and asking where I’m at. Now, do that seem like a murderer?”

  “Every thirty minutes?” She shook her head with a smile on her face. “Where they do that at?” Sitting back in the booth, hungry as hell and ready to order, Keisha’s husky friend laughed at her quick devotion to Rico as well as her stupidity. “Naw, my bad. You right, Keisha. He don’t seem like a murderer. I’m wrong. He seems like a slick con man trying to watch where his money flow. Them texts ain’t nothing but a hood fool running game before he run your pockets. He using your dumb ass. Wake the fuck up. Damn.”

  “But he loves me.”

  “He got you so twisted you don’t know what the hell love is.”

  “Girl, when we together, it feel so right.”

  “So what? When niggas on dope shooting up and crackheads get a rock, I bet that shit feel good too.”

  “So what you saying?”

  “I’m saying everything that feels good ain’t good for your naïve-acting ass!”

  “I know but—”

  “But nothing, Keisha. That dreadlock hood Negro using you. Why you acting so slow?”

  “I’m not.” Keisha tried defending her and Rico’s new relationship.

  “Well, have your parents met him?”

  “You mean my father?”

  “Of course your father, fool. You know like I know your mother is crazy soft like you, but Mr. Jackson . . . ”

  “I know.”

  “Well, has he?”

  “No, but—”

  “Well, forget what I’m saying and my opinion.” Her friend took a sip of her lemonade. “Get back with me after your dad meets him. You must’ve forgotten all the days and nights I used to spend at your house.”

  “I’m not scared of him meeting my father,” Keisha skeptically replied. “Rico loves me. It’s gonna be all good.”

  “Well, with all your father’s money you keep spending on that fake hood nigga, we’ll see. Rico loves you my fat ass. Girl, please, let’s just eat.”

  What her friend was saying did have some truth to it, although Keisha would never admit it out loud. Every time they’d go to dinner, Red Lobster, Outback Steakhouse, or even White Castle, Rico didn’t go in his pocket. If it was the movies, Keisha had it. Each trip to the liquor store, no problem, the party was on her. When they had sex, it ultimately cost her room fare. He ain’t even have jack shit on getting the pussy. Much to Keisha’s surprise, even when big, shit-talking, “I’m the man” Rico was forced to return the rented Ford F-150 she originally thought he owned, she had to cough up the late fees to cover the bill. And as for the jewelry he was rocking, hell, it belonged to one of his homeboys. What was in the dark quickly came to the light and surfaced. Rico’s fine ass was broke as a motherfucker and fake as a three-dollar bill.

  Maybe she is right. Maybe he really don’t care about me. What if all I am to him is a meal ticket? Oh my God, I hope not. I hope he’s not trying to run game. Keisha silently puzzled as she dipped a chicken finger into the ranch dressing. Matter of fact, I’m not even gonna feed into what anyone else has to say. I’ma be his girl and he gonna be my man. We were made for each other—period.

  * * *

  True to the game of hustling hoes, nickel-slick-talking Rico dicked her down so thoroughly the first time he hit the virgin pussy, it was no doubt in his mind good girl Keisha was willing to do whatever he asked. Just to make sure he could really run her pockets, Rico decided to give her the full special treatment. Driving her truck to Palmer Park late one night, he parked in the lot near the swimming pool.

  “Why we here, baby? There’s no one else at the park this late.” Keisha, confused and concerned, glanced over both shoulders, seeing nothing but darkness. “You must have to pee or something.”

  “Naw, I wanna look at the stars with you. Is that all right?” Rico was running his game, and by the gullible expression on Keisha’s face, the corny bullshit was working. “Come on, babe, let’s walk.”

  Pushing the button on the automatic locks, they both jumped down out of Keisha’s truck. Setting the alarm with the spare set of keys now belonging to him, Rico took her hand. Filling Keisha’s head with a gang of lies and misconceptions about him falling in love with her at first sight, the ghetto Romeo led her into the woods.

  “I’m scared, Rico. It’s so dark. Let’s go back,” she whispered with each step on the gravel walkway. Constantly looking back, a scared and sheltered Keisha was starting to panic. At that point, it began to dawn on her what her friend had said days before. She didn’t really know that much about Rico. Besides meeting a few of his boys, he never had mentioned his family or where he went to school, or even if he had kids. “Let’s go back to the truck—please, baby.”

  Rico tied his dreads behind his head so Keisha could see his face in the moonlight. Raising his navy blue linen shirt she’d bought him at Somerset Mall the day before, he smiled, revealing the handle of his ever present nine pressed against his ripped abs.

  “You good, ma. You with me. Don’t worry—I got us. You trust me, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, Rico, I trust you.” Still hesitant about her surroundings, Keisha continued following him because unlike his false claims, she was falling in love with him. After all, he was her first, and as open as she was, love was all that mattered.

  But Rico had been around the block hundreds of times. He was a veteran and good at playing the game. Since he’d been getting pussy from the ripe age of twelve, the females around him would cake. Clothes, jewelry, sneakers, weed: no matter what Rico wanted, if he could get it from a dumb broad, why not? Besides, it didn’t take much work on his behalf, because most of the females he ran into didn’t have that much to offer. However, Keisha’s pockets were the mother lode, so he wanted to add extra insurance to getting blessed. She already craved riding his dick, so now she’d experience his true showstopper.

  Coming to a gigantic boulder wedged in the ground, Rico sat Keisha down as the late night breeze slightly blew the leaves.

  “Look up at them stars. They bright as hell, ain’t they?”

  “Yeah,” a still wide-eyed Keisha answered, swatting at a mosquito. “But I’m scared. It might be wild animals out here. Dogs, rats, or oh my God, even snakes.”

  Listen to this stupid bitch, he thought to himself. Rico took a small bottle of Paul Mason out his pocket, twisting off the cap. Downing the double shot in one good swallow, his mindset went into total game mode.

  “Lean back,” he gently commanded her.

  “Huh?”

  “You heard me. Lean back and close your eyes.”

  Feeling Rico’s rough hands start to touch her thick body in places not even she knew existed, Keisha’s breathing increased and chills vibrated throughou
t her inners. No longer worried about being attacked by wild animals or Rico, she let her guard down. First, there was the unsnapping of the top button on her shorts, followed by the sounds of her zipper going down. Her mind was racing. The wetness of Rico’s long tongue touching hers, mixed with the adrenalin rush of his hands cupping her now semi-exposed ass, made Keisha feel like she was in heaven.

  “Oh, Rico, don’t.”

  “What, you want me to stop?” he sarcastically asked, shoving his hand in between her legs, making her jump. Slowly fingering her tight, freshly untouched virgin pussy, Rico smirked, knowing that after tonight she’d be his puppet on a string for real.

  Wiggling around in a fit of ecstasy to remove her shorts altogether, Keisha could only moan in passion. “Umm . . .” As her eyes rolled in the back of her head then refocused to see the top of the trees and a cluster of stars, the surface of the rock felt cold on her naked ass cheeks.

  Oh my God! It feels so good. Don’t stop! Don’t stop!

  Just as Keisha thought his strong fingers had taken her soaking wet snatch to a sexual point of no return, he slowly eased his hands on both of her trembling thighs. Having no trouble spreading them wide, bad boy Rico finally took his naïve victim to the next level of ecstasy.

  “Did you like that?” He devilishly smiled.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes what?” Rico rubbed his hard pipe through his jeans, never taking his eyes off hers.

  “Yes, daddy.”

  “Now that’s what the fuck I’m talking about. My bitch knows my damn name. So say it again.”

  “Daddy.”

  “One more time, you big bitch,” Rico demanded, gritting his teeth.

  Normally, Keisha would be offended by any man calling her a bitch, but she had been around Rico for some days now and knew he was calling her that out of love. Dumbly, she figured it was kinda his term of endearment for her.

  “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” she eagerly replied to “bitch” as if her parents had named her that at birth. Expecting the DLA thug to drop his pants and pound his throbbing meat inside of her in the middle of the dark Palmer Park Woods, Keisha’s body suddenly felt an indescribable surge. Caught off guard, her mouth opened wide, but no words could escape, only thoughts.

  Oh, shit! Oh my God! Oh, yeah! Damn! Shit! She was out of her mind as Rico’s tongue licked her cat as if it was an ice cream cone on a scorching hot summer’s day. Raising her head to look between her legs, all Keisha saw was the top of Rico’s dreads. Instinctively, her hands reached downward, holding onto his thick ropes.

  Oh, yessss! This shit feels so good!

  “Umm, umm,” Rico hummed, vibrating her raw walls as his dreads became untied, falling to his shoulders. Every motion of him deep tongue-fucking Keisha was calculated.

  Yeah, she all into this bullshit now. I’ma make this big bitch cash me out later for sure. Noticing her lower body rise off the rock to meet every wet, long lick, Rico took two fingers of each hand, using them to stretch apart her fat, protruding, hairy lips. Staring at her inner bright pinkness in the moonlight, Rico’s mouth devoured her surprisingly tiny clit, sucking it gently while teasing it with the tip of his tongue.

  Keisha screamed out his name twice. “Rico! Ohhhhh . . . Rico!” Her raspy voice echoed throughout the woods.

  Reaching one hand up, he instantly covered her mouth still going in, eating her out. “Shhh . . . ” He came up momentarily for air. “Lay back, close your eyes, and cum for daddy.” When he was sure Keisha was gonna be quiet, he removed his hand, grabbing her left 36DD breast. Pinching her nipple, Rico bobbed his head back and forth, face completely buried in the moist, nappy dugout.

  Finally, Keisha climaxed, creaming as if she were a man. “Oh, yessss . . . !” exhausted, she tried desperately to catch her breath.

  With a mixture of Keisha’s cum-filled juices and his sweat dripping from his mustache, Rico stood to his feet. Conceitedly, he leered down at a seminude Keisha sprawled across the huge rock. Proud he’d made another female call out his name, he slow-stroked his dick while tugging at his balls.

  “Okay, now, nasty bitch, play with yourself!” he commanded in a heavy whisper. “Stick those fingers up in that hairy, fat-faced monkey.” In the darkness of the wooded area surrounding them, Rico shook his Mr. Good Bar, as Keisha had nicknamed it, in the humid night air as she lusted. “You wanna taste this good dick, girl? You wanna suck it? You wanna drink this hot milkshake I got?” Tightening his grip, jerking up and down, then down and up, moments later, Rico shot off a warm stream of thick nut on Keisha’s pudgy stomach.

  As the slimy cum slid down from her belly button, Keisha, already turned out by his thuggish freakery, rubbed it into her skin as if it were lotion. Then, on Rico’s command, she licked her hands clean. The bad boy womanizer knew at that point, the world of easy living was in his reach. Keisha was gone.

  * * *

  The next few weeks after that mind-blowing tongue banging went just as Rico knew they would—in his favor. Dumb as the day she was born, missing days at a time from work to cater to Rico’s every whim, a head-over-heels-in-love Keisha showered him with just about every gift imaginable. His wish was her command. Anything he’d glance at, even in passing, she would purchase for him: a 24k gold chain with a rapper-size cross, a pair of Cartier sunglasses, two pair of Jordans, a new Playstation, some True Religion jeans, or a few Polos. She even bought a thirty-two-inch flat screen for his two-year-old son that all of a sudden he mysteriously announced he had. It hadn’t been thirty days since she first met him at Rouge Park, and Keisha was caking beyond belief.

  Rico’s close friends, including Swazy, were still talking shit about how ugly in the face and chunky Keisha was; however, Rico fired back that her pockets were just as big as she was—so it was all good. He had no shame walking hand in hand with her anywhere in Detroit, because bottom line was he was getting paid. Fuck what the next male or female thought about her face was his general mindset. As long as she was paying, he was staying.

  “Dawg, I’m telling you, she be cashing me out on the regular. No matter what in the hell I say, the big bitch do it, no questions asked. Dude, this is the American Dream, I’m trying to tell you! Keisha and her parents got more bread than the law allow. Her daddy supposed to be some wanna-be big-time commissioner or something.”

  Swazy continued smoking the blunt Rico had blessed him with. “Nigga, don’t tell me shit! I don’t give a fuck who her people is or what she paying. Her face is wrecked. I know you must be hitting it from the back.”

  Rico reached into his jean pocket, pulling out a small knot, courtesy of Keisha. “My nigga, I’m hitting it from the front, the back, the side, and the middle, you feel me? Now ,if you wanna get on this here money train, a brother can get you hooked up on one of her girls. All them big birds got that bread.”

  Choking off the potent weed, Swazy laughed, strong-arm hogging the blunt. “Naw, dude, I’m tight on all that. Just keep getting Baby Bop to buy more of these good-ass trees.”

  “Dawg, you could be getting your own trees from one of her friends instead of working valet at that stuck-up club you slaving at.”

  Swazy laughed. “Dude, I’d rather park a hundred cars for a hundred different nickel-tipping old white motherfuckers that pull up to work than live like you. Why don’t your ass try getting a job, guy?”

  Rico smiled from ear to ear. “Yo, I got a job, full time, and her name is Keisha Jackson. And you know what else? I don’t have to wait till income tax time to shop like a baller. I get mines every day, playboy.”

  Chapter Three

  Sunday afternoon rolled around. Keisha had pleaded with Rico all week long to come to dinner at her house. She wanted her parents, especially her strict, overbearing father, to meet the man she’d been spending all her time with, not to mention the man running up her credit card bill. Rico was hesitant to be put on display in the upscale suburbs, so he tried coming up with every excuse in the book as to why he couldn’t make it to the
place Keisha called home. Spoiled and intent on getting her way, Keisha desperately made him an offer he couldn’t refuse, promising an ounce of weed and a rental car for the weekend. Rico gave in to her wishes.

  Pulling up in the long, cemented, flower-lined, U-shaped driveway, Keisha parked her truck near the entrance in the company of several other equally expensive cars and trucks. Turning off the engine, she took a deep breath, secretly crossing her fingers.

  “Okay, baby, this is it. This is where I live.”

  “Goddamn, girl. You live in this big crib?” Rico looked around the gated property, feeling like a fish out of water.

  “It’s not all that big,” she replied, casually downplaying her family’s wealth.

  “Shit, it’s big enough, ma, and damn, who pushing these cold-ass whips?”

  “Just come on, silly. It’s almost five, and my mother has Sandy serve the appetizers at five on the nose.”

  “Who in the fuck is Sandy?” he asked, wondering if that was her sister or something like that. If it was, maybe he could hook her up with Swazy so he could financially get all the come-up Rico was getting.

  Keisha assumed Rico would bug out even more if he found out her family had a chef and a part-time maid, so she just let that question go by unanswered.

  Walking through the front door of the mini-mansion Keisha called home, Rico knew immediately he was out of his league—huge ceilings, crystal light fixtures, and linen tablecloths. Sure, his clothes were up to par, Keisha made certain of that much; however, when it came to manners and common sense, the DLA street thug would be on his own. Keisha could only pray Rico would be able to step up to the plate and not say or do any dumb, out-of-the-way bullshit she’d seen him display at times they’d been out in public.

  “So, this is the young man you’ve been keeping company with. Hello. It’s so very nice to meet you.” Mrs. Jackson greeted Rico with a smile and a mid-evening peach-flavored martini in her hand. “I’m Keisha’s mother.”

  Rico almost gagged. He wanted to throw up in his mouth, now up close and personal with how Keisha was gonna look in twenty years or so. It wasn’t a pretty sight in his eyes.