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Authors: Reginald L. Hall

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BOOK: In Love with a Thug
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“What are you about to do?” I asked as he continued to blow smoke circles into the air.

“I'ma finish smoking this Dutch while I get my dick sucked. That's what I'm about to do,” he replied. “Now come over here and head-sprung this shit, nigga.” I got up, walked over to him, dropped to my knees and did as I was told.

VI
D
ICKNOTIZED

“Y
eah, that's it. Do what you do,” said Bryant as I dropped to my knees. After unbuckling his belt buckle he unzipped his pants. I saw his hard dick ready to explode from his white-and-navy-blue boxers. I grabbed his pulsating rod and rubbed it back and forth looking up at his face as he continued to blow smoke circles.

He leaned back into the love seat still putting the Dutch to his lips. I released his throbbing muscle through the slit of his boxers and began to taste it with my tongue.

I massaged his mushroom head between my tongue and the roof of my mouth. He tasted so good to me. The lighted reflection from the television bounced from the walls as the movie continued to play. Still taking pulls with one hand, he grabbed the top of my head with the other pushing me down onto his chocolate nine inches. He placed the Dutch into the ashtray before he palmed my head with both hands pumping himself harder and harder into my mouth.

The hanging saliva along with his pre-cum escaped the sides of my mouth dripping down onto his shaft and falling directly on his pubic hairs.

“Damn, dude, that shit feels so good.” He let out a huge sigh. My jaws began to tense as he started to pump faster. I began to gag from the force of him gagging me with his pole. “That shit is proper,” he said with his eyes closed as he leaned his head back against the couch.

After a few more pumps deep into my mouth he let out the biggest explosion down my throat. Without stopping I continued to suck his strawberry cream until it was deep into my belly. I licked his dick bone dry.

“Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about,” he said, sticking his dick back into his boxers and reaching over to the ashtray to re-light his Dutch. As he lit it I grabbed his arm and placed it around my body as we both sat on the love seat and continued to watch the movie.

 

“For real?” asked Anthony with excited eyes as we sat at an outdoor restaurant table on the curb of South Street. I was just finishing up my stack of Buffalo wings when I began telling him about my sexual night.

“You have got to be kidding me. What made him do that?” he asked, filling his mouth with garden salad.

“I guess, 'cuz he knew I looked good. I knew he wanted me from the jump,” I said feeling very vain as I began to lick my fingers.

“Bitch, you better work. Does he have a girlfriend? Or I boyfriend, should I say?”

“Not that I know of. If he does, he didn't act like it. After I sucked his dick we watched a movie and then from there it moved into the bedroom and bitch, trust me when I tell you.
He broke my BACK,”
I continued to explain as we both started to laugh.

“Oh shit,” he said, trying not to spit out his food. “How big is he?”

“He's about an eight or a nine. Shit, maybe nine and a half. Bitch, it's not like I had a ruler handy.”

“Well, can he work it?”

“Can he?” I said as my eyes widened. “That nigga almost knocked my tooth loose,” I responded.

“Now see that's what I need,” said Anthony. “Someone that can bring it like it needs to be brought.” Anthony stopped and took a sip of his pink lemonade.

“Are you going to your hair show tonight?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Would you like to come along?” I asked him as I gripped my glass and took a sip of Merlot.

“I guess so. I don't have shit else to do. Darrell is in the streets as always,” he said.

I set my glass down on the table as a mob of people filled the streets on this lovely spring day.

“Whatever happened to that dude Reggie that you introduced me to?” I asked.

“Man, he was corny as hell. And he was dirty. How you gonna have a professional basketball player in your family and dress dirty?” he said, talking with his hands. We both laughed.

“Well, I'll go to the hair show for a little while but then Bryant's supposed to be stopping through again,” I said, raising my arm above my head and snapping my fingers.

“Okay, then let's go. Check, please,” Anthony said, waving toward the waiter to get his attention. He paid for both of our meals and we left the restaurant. We walked along South Street with my soul feeling
good.
That's just what I needed: some good sex to help me get through my life. As we walked into the RBK store my cell phone rang. It was Bryant.

“Hello,” I said.

“Wassup, Shawty?” he asked in his ever-so-sexy voice. My heart melted hotter than vanilla ice cream in an oven. I then became dreamy-eyed and all I could do was block out everyone around me and focus on him.

“Hey, Bryant. How are you?” I asked, walking over to the curb to let the other people pass while Anthony proceeded to walk into the store.

“I'm aiight, what you up to?” he asked.

“I chillin' out with my boy. We're at South Street.”

“Oh, you at South Street, huh? You gonna pick me up sumthin'?” he asked as I held the phone tightly to my ear.

“Sure, what do you want?”

“Just grip me a pair of sneeks. Some Jordans, na'mean?” I was flattered that he had asked
me
to buy him sumthin'. I was really feeling the love that came from him.

“Okay, Bryant. What size do you wear?” I asked, smiling.

“You can grip me a ten and a half.” I could tell he was smoking something. I could hear him blow through the phone.

“I got you. Will I be seeing you this evening?” I asked excitedly.

“Yeah, I'ma come through like around twelve, aiight, shawty?”

“Okay.”

“Aiight, I'll holla.”

“Okay.”

“One.” Then the line went dead. I closed my cell phone and walked into the store where Anthony was. The sounds of Lil' Kim's “No Time” filled the store as there were employees rushing around trying to get their customers situated and wall-to-wall cuties. The store was mixed with all types of races from blacks, whites, Chinese thugs holding tight to their Chinese girlfriends, and then there was Anthony and me.

I walked straight to the back where Anthony stood checking out a shoe. He stood there with his hands on his hips.

“These niggas can't take me,” he said, trying to get someone's attention who could help him.

“What's wrong?” I asked him as I noticed his face starting to get a little red.

“Excuse me. Can I get some help,” he hissed at the young Asian man who seemed to be out of breath. He came over to us.

“Can you get me this in a seven?” Anthony gave him the shoe.

“What's wrong?” I asked again taking a seat on the bench.

“Some dude called me a faggot,” he said, now annoyed.

“Who?”

“That nigga over there.” He nodded his head in the direction of four teenage males. None looked older than eighteen. When I turned my head to view them, they all were leaving the store.

“Don't worry about them,” I said. “They're probably some young broke-ass ghetto kids,” I continued. The Asian guy returned with Anthony's shoe.

“Do you need to try this on?” he said, taking the shoe out of the box.

“No, I already know it fits. Thanks.” Anthony grabbed the box from the guy and walked to the cashier.

“Are you okay?” I asked, following him in tow.

“This shit pisses me the fuck off.” He pulled out his money to pay for the shoes when the thought popped in my mind that I needed to pick up Bryant a pair of Jordans.

“We have to go down to Foot Locker 'cause Bryant wants me to get him a pair of Jordans,” I said proudly.

“Damn, didn't you meet him yesterday?” he said, putting his change from his shoes into his man bag.

“Yeah, so what.”

“Why is he asking you for shit? He doesn't even know you.”

“We know each other pretty well, I might say,” I bragged.

“Well, you know what they say…”

“What?”

“You shouldn't buy your lover shoes cuz he'll walk out of your life,” he said, grabbing his bag from the counter. I giggled and we walked toward the door. I looked down at the floor and began smiling, thinking how last night was a perfect evening and how I couldn't wait until later tonight.

With Anthony leading the path we walked out of the store and onto the street. Two teenage boys ran over quickly to us and began waling on Anthony with balled-up fists. I began to scream as the other two boys ran toward me. I quickly threw up my guard as fast as I could before they began punching me in my face and stomach.

I managed to free myself, only to see Anthony lying on the ground and the other two boys kicking him non-stop. People began to crowd the scene in front of the sneaker store as all four boys scattered. I held my face to stop the pain as I kneeled down to Anthony's body. His head lay pressed against the concrete.

“Somebody call an ambulance,” I yelled with tears welling in my eyes. People continued to stand around speechless and motionless.

“Anthony,” I yelled. I didn't really want to move him but I did want to check to see if his heart was beating. The crowd began to grow as I heard police sirens in the distance. The wind began to blow as Anthony's body shivered. I rapidly took my jacket off to cover his body. In minutes the paramedics bombarded their way through the crowd.

I stood up and out of the way so the medics could do their job. They worked on him for about five minutes before placing a brace on his neck and positioning him on the stretcher.

“Are you with him, sir?” the Caucasian man asked who helped to place him in the ambulance.

“Yes, I am,” I said, grabbing Anthony's belongings and hopping in the back of the van.

After about two and a half hours at the hospital and after I had been examined I was allowed to go in and see Anthony. Doctors said Anthony was lucky considering the type of beating he had suffered. God had given my friend a second chance at life. He had suffered a broken rib cage, a broken jaw, and a dislocated shoulder with a few minor cuts and bruises.

I walked into the room where Anthony lay asleep. I said a silent prayer to God thanking Him for sparing Anthony's life. He was the only family I had. I walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek. I would be back to visit him first thing in the morning.

 

It was half past one when Trudy buzzed the intercom to tell me that Bryant was downstairs. I told her to send him up.

Being as though I was officially seeing him now, there was no need for me to be fully dressed. I met him at the door wearing nothing but a T-shirt and a pair of boxers. He walked in wearing a gray-and-black sweat suit and carrying flowers.

“Hey, Bryant,” I said with a semi-smile.

“Hey, Baby. These are for you.” He handed me the bouquet of fresh cut roses and calla lilies.

“Aww, Bryant, thank you,” I said, reaching up and planting a kiss on his soft lips. He walked in and sat down in the dimly lit living room. I went into the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase of water, with him following behind. The light in the kitchen was much brighter than the light in the living room. I knew it was only a matter of time before he saw my face so I sat the flowers down on the counter. I quickly turned around to get the questioning over.

“Damn, Baby, what happened?” he said, examining my jaw.

My eyes began to fill up with tears again. “Me and my friend Anthony got into a fight today down South Street,” I explained. I looked down at the floor and then back at his face.

“Shit. Are you okay?” He grabbed both of my arms and stared directly into my eyes. I tried to hold back my tears but I couldn't.

“I'll be okay, but my friend is hurt badly,” I confessed while sobbing hysterically. He grabbed me with both of his arms and pulled me toward him. The weed smell from his breath was replaced by the scent of his cologne. I grabbed his back and held him close as tightly as I could while letting my tears flow.

“J.J., it's gonna be okay, I promise you,” he said as he continued to hold me. I felt so calm while in his arms. I trusted every word he said as I held him tighter.

“I'm glad that you're here,” I said, letting him go and standing back so I could look in his eyes. I never remembered seeing a pair of eyes so beautiful. This man looked like an older model of Lil' Bow Wow.

“Are you sure that your jaw doesn't hurt, Baby?” he asked.

I put my hand gently over my face. “Yeah, it hurts a little bit but I'll be okay,” I responded and wiped my eyes.

“Naw, Baby, I got something that will help take that pain away. Do the police know who did this?” he asked, turning around and walking back into the living room.

“No, they don't. I don't think they even looked, to tell you the truth.” I turned around to the flowers when I heard the front door slam. I ran to the door. “Where are you going?” I yelled down the hall as he stood in front of the elevator.

BOOK: In Love with a Thug
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