Big Juicy Lips (18 page)

Felice was waiting outside her building when Misty pulled up. Her eyes held a mixture of interest and displeasure as she slid into the backseat, looking Dane up and down.

“Felice, this is my partner, Dane. Dane, Felice,” Misty introduced, her tone crisp.

“You didn’t mention a partner.” Felice’s mouth turned down, pouting.

“Forgot.”

“I don’t feel right discussing my personal business in front of him.”

“Get used to it,” Misty retorted.

“’Sup, Felice?” Dane turned around, gave her a flirty smile that instantly put her in a better mood.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to ask. Do you pay by check or cash?” Felice queried.

“Cash.”

Felice nodded, cut her eyes at Dane as he lit up a Dutch. She found herself focused on the movement of his full, sensuous lips as he pulled on the cigar.

“Here you go, shawty,” he said, turning around, coughing as he offered Felice the Dutch. “That’s good stuff; should calm your nerves,” Dane said in a voice made gravelly from choking on smoke. He cleared his throat. “Being it’s your first job and everything, couple puffs should have you feeling nice.” His voice was silk, spoken in the confident tone of a man who could sling some good dick.

“Thanks.” She puffed deeply, eyes roving from Misty to Dane. Dane and Misty were both hot. Dane was even sexier than the young buck Misty brought to Hades. She wondered if his dick was as long and thick as Monroe’s. Hopefully, she’d find out. Misty was looking straight ahead, focused on driving over the Benjamin Franklin Bridge, but Dane’s flirty eyes and puckered lips hinted that a there was a possibility for a threesome later on.

Misty pulled into the driveway of a lovely Tudor-style home. Misty and Dane sat in the X5 while Felice sashayed up to the front door. Dane kept his eyes glued to Felice’s plump ass. The door opened; Felice turned and waved. Misty honked once and backed out.

“Where to now?” Dane inquired.

“Pick up Brick; take him to his next job. Come back over the bridge, pay Felice and drop her ass off at her spot.”

“I was thinking…”

“What’s that?”

“Let me hold the wheel after Brick’s last job. That way, I can run past some of the corners, run down the game plan and get some recruits.”

Misty sighed heavily. “How long do you think it’ll take?”

“Couple hours. Depends.”

“You know who would be a natural in this line of work?”

“Who? I know you’re not referring to me!”

“Naw, boo. I don’t share my private stash.” She glided her hand across his groin. “I’m talking about your cousin.”

“You better have a female client in mind because Monroe’s not getting it on with a homo. That’s too fucked up. Monroe’s blood. How I look trying to play my little cousin like that?”

“Damn, you ain’t gotta come at my neck. Well, what about his friends? They blood, too?”

“Naw, they ain’t no relation.” Dane thought briefly and nodded. “Yeah, Troy might go for it. I’ll talk to him.”

“Good! There’s money to be made and I need some workers, but that damn Ashy Cashy better invest in some body lotion if you’re thinking about letting him represent. Make sure you get with him about his hygiene, clean drawers, and all that shit.” Misty sucked her teeth. “Ashy Cashy! I’m really scraping the bottom of the barrel now.”

“I’m gon’ talk to Edison, too. I know Edison can handle the women, but he might have a problem with the homo side of things.”

“Who’s Edison?”

“You know Edison. Short, muscular.”

“Oh! Muscle Boy.”

“Damn, you got nicknames for the whole crew. What’s your name for Monroe?”

“Big Johnson.” Misty fell out laughing.

“Why you have to go there? You know I’m still dealing with the way you tried to turn my cousin against me.” Dane frowned and looked out of the window. Suddenly, he yanked his head in Misty’s direction. “So, whatchu trying to say? My cousin’s dick is bigger than mine?”

Misty scrunched up her face, tilted her hand back and forth. “Y’all running neck and neck.”

“See, you trying to make me and my cousin come to blows.” Dane gave a short laugh.

Brick was picked up and transported to his last job of the night. Felice was paid and dropped off at her apartment. Misty watched from the truck while Dane stood on Monroe’s porch, running it down to Monroe and his two homies. Monroe and Muscle Boy wore neutral expressions but from the look of Ashy Cashy’s delighted face, she knew that he could be counted in.
I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel.

Suddenly, her spirits lifted. Perverts were known to go for pretty much anything freaky. An ashen penis might be a good money shot. With much enthusiasm, Misty honked on the horn.

Dane held up a finger. Annoyed, she pressed down on the horn. Looking irritated, Dane strolled over, making sure to maintain a leisurely pace. “Whassup?” he asked, when he approached the truck. “I’m over there kicking it with the fellas, trying to convince them that there’s big money to made, and you laying on the horn.”

“If they’re not interested, fuck it. I’m not gon’ sit back and watch you beg those sorry niggas.”

Dane reared back, insulted. “Beg! I’m not begging.”

“Look, it shouldn’t take more than ten minutes for them to decide whether or not they’re interested, so fuck ’em. Go tell Ashy Cashy that I want to have a word with him.”

“Yo, I’m not Brick, so don’t think you’re gonna start giving me orders. Why you trying to be all up in it, anyway? I told you I would handle my end.”

“I have an idea for my side hustle.” Misty softened her tone.

“Side hustle? Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, my money flows from different sources. I deal with freaky sex flicks on the side.”

Though he knew perfectly well what Misty was talking about, Dane frowned up uncomprehendingly.

“I’ll explain later. Right now, I want to capture Ashy Cashy while he’s good and crusty. Tell him to get his ashy ass over here.”

Dane gave her an evil eye.

“Please,” Misty forced herself to say.

“Yo, you got me trippin’. I thought you said you wanted Troy to use lots of lotion before you present him.”

“Nah. I changed my mind. Freaks are into twisted shit. His ashy ass will probably bring in a truckload of cash. I’m gonna promote the hell out of him.”

Dane gawked at her. “Seriously?”

“Trust me. I know how freaks think.”

Dane laughed. The sound came out in broken chords of disbelief. “If you wasn’t such a fly-ass chick, I’d think you were full of shit. But I know you’re all about getting that paper, so I’m gon’ go talk to Troy—on the strength.” He shrugged as if amazed at his willingness to participate in a campaign to promote a man with severely dry and ashen skin.

“Tell Ashy Cashy that I want him to take a quick ride with me. It might play better if you stay here with your cousin. Ashy Cashy might be more comfortable taking out his dick if he’s alone with me.”

“You want me to bring my boy over here so you can look at his dick? I’m telling you, you getting me confused with your boy, Brick.”

“You’re making this more complicated than it needs to be. Ashy Cashy ain’t nothing but a dollar sign to me. You’re my partner; Brick is my employee. I would think you’d want to start lining your pockets.” She caressed his face.

“Yo, Troy!” Dane called out. Ashy Cashy trotted toward the truck. Monroe’s and Edison’s curious eyes followed him.

“I’ll be back after I pick up Brick.” Misty dismissed Dane and turned her gaze toward Troy’s questioning eyes. “Get in. We’re gonna take a little ride.” Ashy Cashy looked at Dane for confirmation.

“Go on, man,” Dane encouraged. “She’s gon’ make it worth your while.”

Misty was in luck! Ashy Cashy’s dick was long and ashy. Not as thick as she would have preferred, but hell, you can’t have everything. She started off the bargaining at fifty dollars and was prepared to go as high as three or four hundred—maybe five. She’d get the money back in no time. Despite his boastful nickname,
Cash-Money
joyfully accepted fifty dollars and he wasn’t shy about exposing his goods. Young and virile, his penis stretched out and stiffened the moment he took it out of his pants. Misty snapped away; she even lent a hand and stroked it to speed up the big money ejaculation shot.

“You know, you could make triple what I just paid you, if you work for me.”

“Taking more pictures?” Ashy Cashy inquired innocently.

“No, I need you to fuck desperate housewives.”

“That’s whassup.” He nodded eagerly.

“Every now and then, I might need you to let a freaky husband get involved. You know, show him some dick, let him suck on it,” Misty said nonchalantly. “It ain’t no thing. All you gotta do is cum in the trick’s mouth. Can you get with that?”

“Hell, yeah,” he said, eyes gleaming. “But the part about the husband stays between me and you, right? I wouldn’t want any gay rumors getting started about me.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Everything between me and you is strictly confidential.”

A
shy Cashy didn’t aggravate Misty the way she’d expected. In fact, he was quite easygoing and willing to provide cheap labor. Misty was thrilled. After getting all the photos she needed, Misty dropped him off at Monroe’s house. She honked the horn for Dane.

Dane got inside the truck. “Leaving me here with my cousin was real slimy, yo,” Dane announced, reclining the passenger seat to his preferred position. Looking sullen, Dane flipped through Brick’s collection of CDs.

“I told you why you couldn’t go,” she said wearily. “Look, I’m sorry if you felt…”

He turned up the volume, blasting Kanye West, drowning out Misty’s apology.

It had been a long day for Misty. Too tired to come up with placating words for Dane, she drove in silence, weaving through traffic en route to pick up Brick from his last gig of the night.

Back at the apartment, she intended to download Ashy Cashy’s photos, but Misty lay across the bed to rest her eyes for a moment. Brick flopped down beside her. Within minutes, both were asleep.

Meanwhile, Dane, feeling antsy, angry, and trapped, smoked a Dutch and channel-surfed in the living room. Unable to find anything worth watching, his mind wandered discontentedly. Kingsized bed or not, he’d been crazy to agree to stay in the crib with Misty and Brick. He could hear Brick and Misty both snoring. If he wanted some quick cash, tonight would be the perfect night to ransack the place and jet back to Detroit. But he was in for the long haul. He wasn’t leaving until he got the passcode to the bank account. For that, he’d have to gain Misty’s trust. But, in the meantime, she needed to grip up an extra bed—put it inside her office. Fuck how big the bed was, he wasn’t sleeping in the same bed with another nigga. Fuck was he thinking when he agreed to that dumb shit? He and Brick could take turns sleeping in the spare room. Shit, to get his hands on that bank account, he’d sleep in the office every night if he had to.

Bored, Dane thumbed through a photo album. One page after another, pictures of Misty posing spectacularly. Smiling at club openings, having champagne toasts with sports figures and big ballers. He turned another page. There she was again, stepping out of a limo. He shook his head.
Who does this bitch think she is? The black Paris Hilton or somebody?

Dane took an angry pull on the Dutch he was holding. He quickly turned the pages and then gawked when he caught sight of a disturbing image. In the midst of Misty and Brick was someone who looked like he could be Dane’s twin. Had to be that dead dude—Shane. Seeing the close resemblance between him and Shane, he now understood why Misty was trippin’ so bad. She was still in love with the dude in the picture and was trying to use Dane as a replacement.

Dane slid the photo out of its plastic sleeve, held it up for closer inspection. Damn. Dude even had the same dimple in his chin. The shit was eerie. He felt like he was looking at a picture of himself, but had forgotten posing for it. He had a quick bout of shuddering heebie-geebies. He replaced the creepy picture and closed the book.

Other than that lone photograph, every other picture in the house bore Misty’s image. The crib was a shrine to Misty. Seeing poster-sized photos of her all over the place was starting to get on his nerves. It was creepy. He had to get out of there; get some fresh air. The walls bearing Misty’s likeness were definitely starting to close in. Feeling angry…confined…caged, he paced in circles and then strolled into the bedroom. “Yo, Misty,” he mumbled, his voice deliberately low. “I have to make a quick run. Lemme borrow the whip and a couple dollars, aiight, Lil’ Bit?”

Misty murmured an incoherent response, which Dane took to be yes. Puffing hard on the Dutch, he routed through her purse, extracted some bills and her BMW key ring.

There’d been no need for pointless small talk. Heated glances and seductive body language had been their only means of communication. They’d agreed to get together tonight, but wining and dining wasn’t on their agenda. Instead, hot, naked, skin-on-skin bodies thrusting and dueling hips was on their freaky sexual menu. No need to loosen up or get in the “mood” with a puff off a Dutch. Their fiery attraction had been instant and negated the need for anything but hot, carnal sex.

After two impatient jabs on the buzzer, he stood out on the sidewalk, looked up at the second-floor window, and yelled her name. He walked over to Misty’s truck, leaned up against it and waited. Curtains flittered open; he caught a quick glimpse of coffee-colored skin. Satisfied, he sauntered over to the storefront door.

Moments later, the door pushed open. The smile in her eyes welcomed him, but her mouth was poked out in displeasure. “Took you long enough,” she said, sulking.

“I got here as fast as I could.” He slipped inside, closed the door behind him. Inside the dim, confined vestibule, he gave a head nod to her body-hugging, lace negligee. He covered her pouting lips with his kiss, backing her into the mailboxes that lined the grayish-colored wall.

Anxious hands groped her large bosom. Those big, soft titties demanded attention, but his impatient hands suddenly switched direction. Wandering downward, his restless fingers reached and stretched until his hands were wrapped around her voluptuous behind. He held both ass cheeks with reverence, as if gripping a flesh-covered basketball.

“Baby got back,” he whispered in her ear, and then nibbled on the lobe.

She tilted her head saucily. “Baby got back and a whole lot more.”

“Is that right?” His tone was husky, oozing with desire. An image of her puffy punany blazed across his mind. Thoughtfully, he stroked the hairs on his chin. Was she aware that her pussy was posted on Misty’s sex site? If so, what was her cut? Oh, fuck all that; he’d get up in her financial business at a later date. This moment wasn’t the time and judging by the way his dick was thumping and jumping, the cramped vestibule damn sure wasn’t the place.
Down, boy!
Pressing his dick into obedience, Dane followed Felice up two flights of stairs.

Felice’s plump ass and curvaceous body composition was making his dick drip before it made contact with her flesh. Shawty was packed from front to back.

She led him straight to her bedroom, pulled the flimsy gown over her head and tossed it on the floor. Lying on the bed, body splayed, her mocha-toned nakedness beckoned him. Dane didn’t know what to do first—strip out of his clothes or greedily fill his mouth with one of her succulent, big tits. He wanted to lick her taut tummy, bite on her inner thighs, flip her over and kiss her round, bouncy ass. Like a child in a candy store, he wanted to taste everything—suck cream from titties, lick chocolate from ass, sip the tangy sweetness that glazed her juicy pussy lips.

“Come on, baby, what are you waiting for?” Felice cooed. She writhed ever so slightly, but the sexy, fluid movement spoke volumes; expressed her desires louder and more clearly than she could ever convey with words.

With his dick becoming more and more unmanageable, indecisiveness was no longer an option. Obeying primal urges, Dane unzipped his jeans, slid them down and unleashed the unruly beast. Jeans and drawers hung around his ankles; his dick in his hand.

She smoothed her hand across her hairy mound and wound her hips, undulating vigorously, wantonly welcoming his dick.

Overcome by lust, Dane fell on top of the pussy. Clumsily, he thrust himself inside, grunting as he pushed deeper, desperately seeking darkness and warmth. He had every intention of serving Felice a series of long, rhythmic strokes followed by a speeded-up pace and intensity, giving the pussy a punishing, a pounding. He had planned to teach this bitch the lesson he reserved for flagrant flirts like her. But her pussy was too much for him. Each time the capped knob of his length dipped into her moist, heated center, her pussy lips puckered up and tightened around his thickness. The dual stimulation—the cushiony softness of those big juicy lips brushing against his dick and the liquid heat that poured over the head of his dick—was throwing him off his game.

Heightening the pleasure, Felice tightly contracted her inner muscles. Dane could feel himself about to lose control. Biting the collar of his shirt, ripping the fabric with his teeth, he tried to gag himself, tried to muffle the sound of the strident falsetto that pushed against his throat. Any minute now—one more pussy clench—it would be all over, and Dane would be cumming like crazy and screaming like a bitch.

Gasping, he buried his face against Felice’s neck. “The pussy was banging, yo,” he exclaimed between panting breaths. “What kind of pussy is that? Red snapper?” he asked, laughing. His chest continued to heave as he laughed and struggled to catch his breath. Coming to terms with his lack of stamina, his less-than-stellar performance wasn’t easy. Trying to play it off, he said, “Yo, that ride was thrilling—like a roller coaster. It ended too fast; I want to get back on.”

His pop had put him down with an old school jam, called “Misty.” The melody chimed from his cell phone, informing him that Misty was awake and, no doubt, fuming mad. He wanted to ignore the call, jump back in the pussy and step up his fuck game. But evil-ass Misty would be out gunning for him. Or worse, she’d call the cops on his ass for jacking her whip. He had open cases—didn’t need that kind of trouble out of the police, so he reached down, grabbed the denim that was gathered around his ankles, patted until he located the phone, and pulled it out of his pocket.

Dane didn’t have to worry about Felice coughing, clearing her throat, or making any kind of jealous female noises. Hearing Misty’s name crooning from the cell phone, had Felice looking appropriately frazzled, eyes bulged, her hand covering her mouth in dreaded fear.

“I told you that I had to go out and grip up a lighter. I couldn’t find one in the crib. Picked up a couple Dutches, too. Yeah, I’m on my way home. I’m right around the corner,” he lied.

Dane snapped his phone shut; cut an eye at Felice.

“You gotta leave?” she asked sadly.

“Yeah, but don’t worry. It ain’t over, shawty. I’m gon’ be back for round two.”

“When?” Felice’s lips curled back into their previous pouting position.

“Soon. Are you working for Misty tomorrow?”

“I’m not sure. She’ll call me and let me know.” Felice thought for a few seconds. “Take my number.”

“Nah, shawty. I don’t have any business with your number in my phone. Feel me?”

Felice gave a reluctant head nod.

“I’ll roll through tomorrow night. Don’t have me standing and waiting around outside. When I ring the bell, get your ass down there and open the door.”

Dane was surprised that Felice let him handle things. She should have been cussing him out for shooting off his seed and leaving her hanging until tomorrow.

He washed up and gave her a quick kiss. He’d make it up to her. She wasn’t wifey material—damn shame that wifey was waiting back home in Detroit. But she was definitely that Philly bitch. He could never get enough of her big, juicy lips.