Brick (Double Dippin') (30 page)

I hear Evette’s keys outside the front door.

Munch suddenly starts singing that Usher song, “There goes my baby!” Apparently, he can hear the jangle of Evette’s keys, too.

I’m totally disgusted. I stand in the living room with my arms folded, ready to cuss Evette out for tryna play me.

She walks in. And you could’ve knocked me over with a feather. Evette’s face is normal. That fuggly droopy side of her face is fixed. She’s actually looking kind of pretty.

“What happened to your face?”

“I don’t know,” she responds. “It was like this when I woke up this morning. I think it was all that good loving Munch put on me. The doctor always told me the situation could reverse.”

This is unbelievable. Her mug ain’t twisted around anymore due to all that healing semen she got from all those blowjobs she gave me. Weeks of me smearing cum on her mug has healed her condition, but she wants to give Munch all the credit.

“It was really nice of you to hook me up with Munch. Real
nice, Kaymar. Thanks.” Evette is all smiles and I wanna slap her.

I brought Munch over to assault her with his mangy-dog ways, and this smut bitch done fell in love. Man, this shit has backfired on me in every way possible.

“Are you cooking dinner?” Evette asks, giving me an odd look.

“Nah, that’s your new man. Munch is in the kitchen making you some grub.” I have my mouth turned down in disapproval.

“Really?”

“Yeah, he’s in there cooking and carrying on,” I say with a fierce scowl.

“Listen,” she whispers. “I don’t want Munch to find out about us. Can you get your stuff together and be out of here by tomorrow?”

I feel my fist balling up. I’m so mad, I’m spitting and sputtering. I can’t even get out the litany of cuss words I want to hurl at her because Munch is calling from the kitchen.

“Hey, Evette! Baby! Come on in here! I got a surprise for you!” Munch shouts.

Grinning, Evette races away from the sucker punch I’m gearing up to deliver.

“Is my boo-boo here fixing me dinner?” she coos and then runs into the kitchen.

I stand there, steaming. A few minutes later, I stroll into the kitchen. Shit, I’m hungry. Angry or not, my stomach is on “E.” In the kitchen, my mouth literally drops open. I can’t believe my eyes. That quick, Evette is leaning against the kitchen sink with her skirt around her waist, and Munch is down on the floor licking and sucking between her legs. Now Evette is lowering herself down, getting into doggy-style position.

Disgusting!
I can’t watch these two mutts start their bullshit again.

So, I slam the door and leave. Planning to drown my sorrows in alcohol, I walk around the corner to the bar.

F
eeling sad and lonely, I take a seat on a barstool. I look around the bar to see if any bitches are checking for me. Nope. These hoes ain’t paying me a damn bit of mind. I bet if I was flashing a knot, these cunts would be breaking they necks to sit down next to me.
Bitches!
I take a big, angry gulp of Budweiser. Then I remember I gotta drink slow…make this shit last. I’m down to my last five dollars!

I hate bitches. Haven’t I been through enough in my young life…doing a long bid at a tender young age? Why bitches still making life hard for me? And when am I gon’ finally gon’ catch a break and become the paper maker I know I can be?

I think about calling my mother, but she’s not going to allow me to stay at her house. She blames me for everything—says the crime I got caught up in ruined her life.

I’m the one that spent all those years in prison. Damn! Bitches get on my nerves. They make my life a living hell.

I look around the bar again, but this time I’m looking for a cunt to follow out of the bar. Yank her into an alley. Put a choke-hold on her. Take all the pussy I want.

As I’m brooding and nursing my Budweiser, I notice this big, tall dude standing in the back of the bar, near the pool table. He ain’t flashy or nothing, but I can see a knot in his pocket. Plus, I can tell by the confident way he’s carrying himself, dude got bank.

He strides over to the bar. The barmaid was just about to approach me to find out if I want another beer, but the minute she notices dude, she forgets about me and races over to him. “Whatchu drinking?” she asks with a wide smile.

“Henny,” he answers and takes the empty seat next to me. Smiling and giving him a flirtatious glance, the barmaid pours him a drink. “This one is on the house, big man,” she says as she pushes the shot glass toward him.

Dude points a finger at me. “Give my man whatever he’s drinking,” he offers.

“Thank you, man.” Now a nigga is feeling good.

Every broad in the bar is looking in our direction; they’re strategizing…trying to figure out the right approach to get with the baller.

I straighten up my shoulders, feeling famous by association.

“My name’s Kaymar, man. What’s good?” I offer him my hand.

“Brick, man. It’s all good.”

Brick? Sounds like the name of a rapper. But I never heard of him. Maybe he’s underground.

Brick squinted toward the barmaid. She’s at the far end of the bar. “Yo, cutie!” he bellows. “Hit my man over here up with some Henny! Give everybody at the bar a drink on me!” my new friend, Brick, offers.

“Good lookin’ out, man.” I nod enthusiastically. Dude must have major paper to throw around. I’m impressed.

Thirsty chicks sitting at the bar are all smiles as the barmaid starts pouring free drinks, courtesy of Brick.

Now this is more like it. This is exactly how I imagined rolling when I first got back to Philly. Fuck Evette, fuck Fawn, and fuck Munch. I don’t need none of them broke-ass niggas. I only fucks with ballers.

“It was nice meeting you, dude. But I’m about to roll out. This part of Philly is too slow for me. These women…” He flips his hand back and forth. “They only so-so. I like to keep company with strippers. Big, fake-ass titties turn me on. You know what I’m sayin’?”

I nod. I never touched a pair of fake tits. But I’m sure it’s freaky. “Where you from?” I ask; curiosity is killing me.

“Atlanta. But I’m originally from Philly.”

“When you going back?”

“Tomorrow.”

I almost want to plead with this bull to take me to ATL with him. Put me on with the rap scene. I’m not sticking around in dull-ass Philly. Shit, it’s a free country, and I should be able to go wherever I want. I can register with the sex offenders’ list in Atlanta. On the low. Keep that information under my hat. Everything ain’t for everybody.

He chats briefly with the barmaid and then returns his attention to me. “Yeah, my flight leaves tomorrow, but tonight I’m tryna have some fun. It’s dead in here. And I can’t find any good weed.” He shakes his head.

My mind is racing, tryna think of who might have some good weed. Pretty Boy keeps some green, but I’m not introducing him to my new friend. I learned my lesson with Munch. Shit, next thing I know, Pretty Boy will be part of Brick’s entourage and I’ll be out on my ass, living in a shelter.

Brick throws back the shot of Henny and stands up. “Good talking to you, man. I’m heading over to Delilah’s Den.” At that moment, his cell phone goes off.

“Whassup, my man? You got something for me?” he says into the phone.

I’m impressed by his style. I heard about Delilah’s Den. That’s
where Yeezy’s pretty, ball-headed ex used to dance. They got only gorgeous bitches up in that piece. I wanna go!

He glances at me. As if it were an afterthought, he says, “You wanna roll out? My man came through. He got that B52. I only smoke the best, baby.”

I smile dumbly. I never heard of B52, but I been locked up so long, there’s a lot of shit I don’t know. This dude seems like he could be a sort of like a mentor. Seems like rolling with him would be a party every night. Liquor, quality weed, and big-titty bitches.

My big welcome home freak bash with strippers is getting closer to becoming a reality.

I got my swagger back. With a dip in my stride, I’m walking next to Brick, heading toward the door. The females are gazing at us sorrowfully, like they’re mourning the fact they didn’t get a chance to ride our dicks. I don’t feel sorry for none of ’em. If they want a high-profile dude like Brick or me, they better invest in some breast implants. We only like big-titty bitches.

Brick pulls out his cell again and hits a button. “Take the limo around the block a couple of times. I gotta make a transaction. I’ll hit you up when I’m finished.”

“We’re going to the strip club in a limo?”

“For sure. Females give up booty, head, titty fuck…anything you want when you give ’em a ride in a limo.” He laughs. “Watch how I operate when we get to the club. I’ma school you, young bull.”

“Aye,” I say. Dude don’t look much older than me, but I’m not offended that he likes calling me young bull. I’m grinning, ear-to-ear.

I’m getting outta Philly. Going to Atlanta. But I get a little uneasy when I imagine my parole officer giving me grief about relocating to Atlanta. I don’t wanna stay in this boring city. Ain’t nothing here for me. They got it poppin’ in ATL. I wonder if
Brick hangs with T.I. or Jeezy. I’ma ask him about his crew after he finishes with the transaction.

A dark-colored hooptie pulls up. A female is driving. Brick nudges me. “Hold up, young bull; lemme go handle the transaction with this chick. Dude done sent his woman, thinking she gon’ sweet-talk me out of more money than I’m willing to spend. Give me a few minutes. I’ll be right back.”

He takes a few steps and then looks back at me. He waves me over. “You ain’t gotta wait at the curb. I gotta test this shit, so we might as well spark up together.”

I’m honored. Brick is extending so many courtesies because he can see I have potential. Munch and Evette can have each other. They deserve each other. Two sick, twisted mufuckas, fucking all over the house. The only position I’ve seen them fuck in…is doggy-style. Umph! It’s bad enough Munch wants to act like a dog, but watching Evette come down to his level of sickness is more than I can stand.

But fuck all these Philly niggas. From now on, I’ma be hanging with fly, ATL niggas. Smoking and drinking free. I bet Brick is gon’ share all the pussy he gets with me.

I shoot a glance at the car. If the bitch at the wheel acts anything like those thirsty bitches in the bar, Brick and I both gon’ get our dicks sucked before the limo takes us to the strip club.

Brick gets in the front. I climb in the back.

“Who’s that?” the bitch asks, frowning up her face as she looks back at me. She got the motor running, but she ain’t moving.

“Oh, that’s my man, uh...my man, Kaymar.”

“Why you bring him?” the bitch asks in a disrespectful tone.

“Yo, watch your tone, shawty. You ain’t talking to a kid; that’s a grown man that you’re disrespecting,” I tell her, narrowing my eyes. I’m fit to be tied, and I just got in the damn car. Bitches!

“It’s all good, roadie. Lemme handle this business,” Brick says in a calm voice.

He’s talking low to her and I’m glaring at her from the back seat. Something about this snotty bitch is irking me. We need to take that weed off her and ram our dicks down her throat, and then give her a nice warm cum shower. I’m thinking all kinds of lewd thoughts while Brick is sniffing bud from a sandwich bag.

“Smells good,” he says. “You wanna spark up with me and my man?”

“I ain’t got time for that. Here’s the weed; now pay me. I know you ain’t make me drive over here for nothing.”

Her voice is so irritating, I feel my temper flaring. “You gon’ get your money. Now stay in your lane, bitch!” I can’t help my outburst. Shawty’s out of pocket, talking to Brick all greasy.

The bitch turns around and gives me a frown. “Fall back, nigga,” she says. “Don’t make me call my man.”

Now it’s my opportunity to show Brick I’m fearless. A good soldier. He could probably use me for security when we get to ATL. “Fuck your man. Call him! I’ll fuck you and your man up!”

The bitch pulls a cell phone out of the cup holder. “I’m calling him!”

“Nah,” Brick intervenes. “We ain’t gotta get violent. I’m tryna get high and have some fun.”

“Hmph. I don’t appreciate the way your friend is talking to me. And I don’t think my man is gon’ appreciate it either.” She pushes some buttons and then turns around to look at me.

I’m so sick of bitches. I feel like hurting this girl. I wanna plunge my dick in her pussy. Smack her face and piss on her. I never pissed on a bitch before, but there’s always a first time. All Brick gotta do is give me a head nod, and I’ma yank that ho back here and fuck that lil’ pussy until it cries.

Damn, my Johnson is poking out, making a tent in the front of my pants. I peek at the bitch to see if she’s feeling me. I’m not worrying about Brick. I got control of this situation. Just like with Theodore. When I started raping that nurse bitch, my partner in crime wasn’t expecting me to take it there. I didn’t let him in on that part of the game. Hell, I didn’t know I was gon’ want some pussy until I saw how scared she was. Her fear made me feel powerful—got my Johnson hard.