Lust (9 page)

When he had her tied up tightly he stood up behind her and took off his pants. His white penis stood out from his body at an angle, and Sallie rubbed it all over her ass before reaching under her and cupping and squeezing her firm brown nipples.

“You’re gonna love this,” he whispered as he bent over her and planted kisses down the curve of her naked back. She shivered beneath him as his lips trailed along her sweet chocolate spine and he approached the crack of her ass with sheer heat coming out of his mouth.

Gripping her fine hips, Sallie slid his tongue between her ass-cheeks and stuck it deeply inside her tight hole. She moaned and squirmed as he withdrew from her back door so he could continue licking lower. Sighing, Sallie sniffed her gorgeous pussy and plunged his face in, rubbing her clit with his nose. He backed out and parted her lips with his thumbs, and peered into the pinkness that was surrounded by the kind of chocolate he wanted to eat every single day. 

Sallie got down on his knees so he could have better access, and then he went to work eating that dripping pussy like it was the last meal he would ever have. He gulped and slurped and licked and moaned into her yummy as Meesha screamed and bucked her hips at him, cumming over and over as Sallie fucked her deliciously with his tongue.

The air was thick with the smell of hot sex in the cab and Sallie’s dick throbbed with his need to burst. He fumbled for his pants and dug in his pocket and got a condom, then slipped it over his erection and rolled it down until his dick was all wrapped up.

By now Meesha was begging for it. Sallie was just about to give it to her, but he needed to taste that pussy just one more time. He massaged her clit with his fingers as he stiffened his tongue and probed her juicy insides. She came in his mouth again and flooded his tongue with her thick, hot cream. With one last lick at her asshole, Sallie stood up and rammed his prick inside her pink tunnel. He gripped her hip with one hand and spanked her ass with the other.

Meesha moaned and urged him on as he fucked and spanked and fucked and spanked. At some point the sound of his slapping hand got faster and harder as he pumped even deeper inside of her.

Excited beyond belief, Sallie went into a slapping frenzy. Meesha’s moans were now turning into yelps and she began twisting and turning, trying to get away from him. She tried to fall over on her side, but Sallie hooked his left arm around her waist like it was a sling, holding her right where he wanted her as he dicked her all the way down.

Sallie slapped her ass with all the strength he could muster. Her pussy had dried up, but he didn’t care. He reached way back and swung his hand down sharply, the splintering sound mingling with the girl’s frantic yelps and screams.

It took him five more thrusts before his balls emptied out, and at the height of his orgasm Sallie pulled out of Meesha’s pussy and snatched off his condom. He screamed like a bitch as he shot his load all over her dark ass, and he watched in satisfaction as his sticky semen slid between her thick cheeks and disappeared down her crack.

Meesha was really crying now, but Sallie barely heard her. He had come so hard that it took him a few moments to get himself together, and when he looked down at Meesha’s ass he almost laughed out loud. Her left cheek was smooth and caramel brown, but her right cheek was swollen with horrendous welts, and countless red abrasions, some beginning to bleed, marred her beautiful flesh.

“You crazy mothafucka!” she screamed in pain as he shoved her over and then stepped across her so he could get his drawers. “Untie me!” she demanded. “Are you mental or something? What the fuck is
wrong
with your stupid white ass?”

Sallie ignored her and pulled on his clothes. He stuffed his dick back in his pants as the dumb black bitch called him every low-down dirty motherfucker she had in her vast vocabulary.  

But Sallie was done. His tongue was starting to itch and he could feel her rotten juices churning around in his stomach. He reached into his shirt pocket and got two sticks of cinnamon gum and stuck them in his mouth. He was just about dressed when he glanced down at her and stared at the smooth skin of her left flank.

Taking a deep breath, Sallie pulled his belt out of his pants loops. Meesha screamed as he reached back over his shoulder and let his leather fly. The belt cut into her flesh with a hiss, and instantly a purplish bruise appeared on her skin. Sallie swung again and she screamed, and he swung again and Meesha screamed.

Sallie didn’t stop swinging until he was sure her left ass-cheek looked almost as good as her right one looked.

And Meesha didn’t stop screaming for a minute either. At least not until the crazy white boy that she had picked up on a whim had stolen her cell phone and the keys to her truck, and then locked her in the back of the cab with her beautiful ass cheeks bleeding and her wrists still tied to her ankles.

CHAPTER 12

The day was way too beautiful to be having a funeral. Especially for a child. While the Harlem sun shone above a perfectly cloudless sky, inside the Church of the Redeemer there were lovely pink and blue flowers on display everywhere.

There were bunches of them up on the pulpit and at the front of each pew, and a batch in the shape of a cross had been placed over the bottom half of the open casket that held the body of the pregnant young girl whose short life was being celebrated and whose tragic death was being mourned.

The mood inside the church was sad and grim. The organ player banged soulfully on his keys, and the church was packed with so many grieving mourners that they were spilling out of the door.

Almost the entire community of Harlem had turned out to show their respect for poor little Princess Howell and her unborn baby. Neighbors and friends had passed around a basket to collect money to purchase her a burial plot, and the small business owners in the community, especially those who were members of the Talented Ten, had dipped into their pockets to buy her a beautiful casket and pay for all of her funeral expenses too.

Trey Jackson had already announced a community scholarship fund he was establishing and dedicating in Princess’ name, and right now him and the other nine members of the Talented Ten Crew sat in the front row of the church next to the dead thirteen-year-old’s grandfather, Mr. Howell, and her best friend, Taleah.

Three of Princess’ girlfriends from her poetry troupe called Street Talk N.Y.C had just finished reciting a beautiful poem that talked about the senselessness of her death and their vision of a world without street violence and drugs. Trey had organized the group under the wings of The Crossover Community Center where he’d once mentored Princess, and he was proud of the three young ladies who had spoken so passionately for their dead friend today.

The funeral director held out his hand toward Trey and Mr. Howell, indicating that it was time for them to stand and approach the coffin for the final viewing of Princess’ body. Trey stood up and lifted the old man to his feet, and then matched his steps as the old man shuffled toward the casket.

Behind them, the Talented Ten Crew and over fifty youngstas that Trey mentored at the Crossover Community Center stood and followed them up to the front of the church. Each youngster held either a pink or baby blue flower in their hand as a gesture of their grief and love for Princess.

These throw-aside kids of Harlem had been Princess’ friends and companions during the time she’d spent at the Crossover Community Center, and just like Princess they had been exposed to drugs, gangs, street violence, and dysfunctional families, and every last one of them knew it could have been them laying up in that cold box instead of her.

As the mourners filed slowly past the casket, everyone in the church seemed to moan and rock together like they were of one body. Their grief swelled up to the rafters and fell like a sad mist over everything it touched. The sight of Princess’ stiff young body in her bright pink dress, with her stomach still swollen and carrying her dead baby inside, crushed the hearts of the entire neighborhood. The horror of the two deaths from an overdose of the drugs that were sold on the streets of their neighborhood sent rage through their collective souls.

A stylishly dressed older woman began belting out
Keep Your Eye on the Sparrow
in the most beautiful voice that Trey had ever heard. He returned to his seat and sat tall as Mr. Howell’s thin shoulders heaved with cries and his body trembled in Trey’s arms.

“My grandbaby was all I had,” the old man moaned in a soft, pitiful voice as he clutched Trey’s shoulder. “These kids is just killing they selves! Princess and that baby was all I had left in this
world
.”

As much as it fucked Trey up to see a dead child laid up in her casket with her belly filled with the body of another dead child, he kept his emotions in check and an impenetrable mask of composure on his face. Over the past few years he had been to more funerals than he could count, and not one of the dead had been over the age of twenty-five. Between the outta control gun violence and the unchecked flow of drugs flowing through the streets of Harlem, youngstas like Princess were now an endangered species in their own neighborhoods.  

Trey thought about his manz Mayhem and frowned inside. No matter how hard organizations like The Crossover and the Talented Ten fought for the souls of Harlem’s children, the lure of fast money and pipe dreams never died, and the battle was uphill every single day. But regardless of what they were up against, Trey and his posse had vowed they would never stop fighting.

The last of the mourners had filed past the casket and returned to their seats, and the funeral director was about to lower the lid on Princess and her unborn baby forever, when the church doors banged open and a beautiful but deadly-looking chick walked in.

A hush fell over the large room as she headed straight down the center aisle, taking long, deliberate steps and draped in expensive gear and ghetto finery. She was tall and gorgeous. She wore a form-hugging silk sweater made of mint-green satin, a pair of silky black jeggings that hugged her stunning curves to a tee, a pair of black, stiletto-heeled leather boots that came all the way up to her knees, and a full set of glittering diamond jewelry.

Lil Lee’s makeup was perfect and her hair was straight butter as she strode up to Princess’ casket and glared down at the cold, stiff body before her.

Posing with her hands on her hips, the only female capo in the notorious Divine Nine click gazed around the church real slow to make sure she was commanding her proper respect, and then with a chilling glance at Trey she sniffed real deep and hock-spit loudly, right down in the dead child’s face.

 A deathly hush fell over the church like a smothering wool blanket, and then the air exploded with shouts of anger and clacking gats as people got swole and started brandishing burners like they had been transported to the Wild-Wild-West.

Lil Lee had been the first to pull her piece and she stood posted up by the open coffin looking deadly as hell as she gripped her tool and waved that shit around in the air.

But Lil Lee wasn’t the only one carrying heat. The men of the Talented Ten were up on their feet and ready to blast too, and Trey instinctively pushed Taleah down to the floor and urged her to ball up under the pew.

It only took him a second to see what was up and assess the danger. About a dozen of Lil Lee’s low-level underlings had blended in with the funeral mourners. They’d waited until she made her grand entrance, and then they’d taken her cue and jumped into position. They were all young’uns and they were all armed too, aiming their pistols recklessly around the church at kids, old people, and anybody else who was within bullet-range. Trey’s blood almost boiled when he scanned the crowd and saw that Mayhem’s younger brother Maleek was strapped up and standing amongst the Divine Nine crew.

“Uh-huh,” the beautiful young drug queen barked as she sneered coldly at Trey and his crew. “We got us one of them Mexican standoffs.” She nodded toward Princess’ body. “And all because this lil dumb-ass fiend fucked around and got my best slanga murked!” She looked around the church. “Somebody out there gave J-Ugly a ride off a rooftop because this lil trick laying here wanted to get high, and I’m telling all y’all mothafuckas right now that
somebody
is gonna pay.”

She reached in her back pocket and came out with a fistful of drug vials. Sneering, she flung them down at Princess and they rolled all over the corpse.