Crave All Lose All (20 page)

Inf raised his Moet bottle showing me love at his club on Board street.

He was celebrating his thirty-fifth birthday like a megastar. Inf had dozens of Cristal and Moet in the club. Numerous girls cluttered the club in their sexiest and skimpiest tight fitted attire. Diamonds and every fashion brand known were being flaunted by the fellows.

Because of me and the shit Tyriq was supplying, Inf and his goons made millions. I became richer. Inf and his crew had south Philly on lock with drugs and fear. The many cars, women, jewelry, violence and guns made them the epitome of ruthless drug dealers. The murder rate in South Philly was skyrocketing. Crime and drug use reached an all time high and the Tasker homes was one of the most feared projects in the city.

I felt like a superstar among Inf and his crew, they looked out for me and I did the same for them. Philly was becoming my town to party, fuck bitches, and get money. The food, lifestyle, and women had me spending more time there than anywhere else. Cashmere was my Philly bitch. We fucked like crazy but I had a wandering eye when it came to the sisters with the big booties and slim curvy waistlines. I had bitches scattered in every town for my enjoyment.

There was Meeka in Albany, Danielle in Connecticut there was this fine bitch in Baltimore named Shannon, I was fucking with. She was twelve years older than me and had two teenage kids in high school. In New York, I was getting with Shae. Out of all my hoes, Shae was wifey.

Despite Shae’s occupation, she was more woman than the chicken-heads I was fucking. She had goals and wasn’t caught up in money, sex or bling. Shae was not up on a nigga because his pockets were fat like Starr Jones before surgery.

“I haven’t been with someone in almost a year. Please be good to me.” She told me the night I got with her.

She gently spread her legs for me. I slowly climbed on top of her. It was the best pussy I ever had. Her love making—wicked. I held her in my arms and we talked after.

“I want to control money, so money doesn’t control me,” she said to me.

She wanted to go to school for business investment. I was willing to put her through school and let her do her thing. She was my investment. Besides Chandra, Shae was the only girl that I loved. But that didn’t stop me from slinging dick state to state. Money and pussy was becoming the root of all my evil.

I was at the bar getting my drink on and chatting it up with this big titty, dark hair Dominican bitch. I was in a red velour suit and Sean John T-shirt, sporting new Jordan’s. Diamond and platinum gleamed around my neck at Inf’s party. I was a baller and bitches ate that shit up.

“You gonna buy me a drink?” she asked.

“Depends if you tell me your name,” I replied.

She smiled, rubbed against my forearm and said, “Cherie.”

“What you drinking, Cherie…?”

“Grand mariner and pineapple juice,” she said perking her lips.

I ordered her drink, look at her from head to toe and smiled. She was wearing a short skirt, platform heels and a shirt so tight that it looked like her nipples were trying to escape.

My strong appetite for women grew the richer I got. Cherie sipped her drink and we talked. She wanted to do more.

“Your name ring bells,” she said.

“What you heard?” I asked humorously.

“Good things,” she smiled.

“Like what,” I flirted.

“Que realmente sabes tomar cuidado de una mujer,” she said with a thick Spanish accent.

I smiled, understanding her lingo.

“You looking for some maintenance?”

“Quiza…”

“We could do sump’n.”

Cashmere stormed our way with a drink in her hand and a serious glare on her face. She threw a drink in Cherie’s face and hit her with right hook.

“Bitch, what da fuck you think you’re doing with my man!”

Cherie quickly rebounded and went to attack Cashmere. I grabbed her and said, “Chill.”

“Fuck that! Don’t disrespect me like that. You stupid cunt,” Cherie shouted.

“Bitch, do you know who the fuck I am?”

“Vete a la mierda, perra…I’ll slice your fuckin’ throat open,” Cherie exclaimed.

“Let that bitch go!” Cashmere shouted trying to attack Cherie.

I continued to hold Cherie back from Cashmere.

“Vince, why you holding that bitch, huh…?”

There was a crowd around us. No one intervened because they didn’t want it with Inf.

“Fucking chill wit’ it, Cashmere,” I shouted.

“Are you fucking the bitch?” Cashmere asked.

“Baby, let me go!” Cherie said enraging Cashmere.

“Who da fuck you calling baby?”

Cashmere went to the bar, picked up a beer bottle and smashed it against the counter top.

“Cashmere, fucking chill,” I warned.

“Fuck you!”

Inf and his crew was coming our way. I didn’t want the situation uglier but was ready for anything.

“Cashmere put the fuckin’ bottle down. You trying to fuck up my party?” Inf asked his cousin.

“I’m bout ready to murder this bitch. Why she gotta be up on my man?”

“Vince, what’s good?”

“Your cousin is wilding right now. It ain’t even like that,” I said.

“I ain’t trying to have no drama on my birthday,” Inf said. He looked at Cashmere. “Jake, take my cousin home.”

“What…?”

“You ready to kill somebody and I can’t be having no fucking bloodshed in my place on my birthday.”

“Fuck y’all! I don’t need this shit. I’ll get that bitch on the rebound,” Cashmere shouted.

She tossed the bottle, grabbed her purse and left with Jake following her. Inf came up to me and said, “Vince, let me holla at you for a sec.”

I walked with him and he took a swig from the Moet.

“That’s my cousin, right and I love her. You my nigga and I’d hate to see my cousin do something stupid because she’s emotional off of you. That means I’m gonna have to get stupid and do what I gotta do. We don’t need to get stupid up in here, you feel me?”

“Yeah, I feel you.”

“We getting good money out here, so be good to her. I know you gonna do what you do…but don’t fuck wit’ her, cuz remember, she’s family.”

“It’s all good. I’m gonna make it right wit’ her.”

“That’s what I want to hear,” he said giving me dap.

He then walked away. It was cool I definitely was gonna do me. I loved pussy too much to let it go, especially new pussy.

I strolled back into the party and went looking for Cherie. I caught the bitch coming out of the bathroom. She gave me a look I didn’t like. We got to talking then took a stroll, ready to get it on and poppin.

I had to pull over and quickly put the ride in park. Cherie’s head game was serious. My dick was so far down her throat, it felt stuck there. She was sucking my dick so good she’d make a nigga crash.

“Oh shit,” I moaned, with my hand tangled in her hair and my seat reclined. Cherie lips wrapped around my thick dick had me in bliss.
Yeah, this
is how life should be—fucking bitches and getting paid.

Cherie continued to deep-throat me, I stared out into the vast terrain of dilapidated row-houses stretching blocks down, abandon cars lining the streets, with fiends creeping through the cracks and alleys trying to score their next hit. I noticed a young teenager posted up on the corner, and his attire screamed hustler. He saw me getting a blowjob and he smiled. I smiled back.

Cherie was going to work on me down below; she began chewing on my nuts and jerked my long shaft with her soft delicate manicured fingers. Her lips and tongue coiled around every inch of my dick and I began finger-poppin’ her. She had one leg propped against the dashboard and her panties were on the floor.

I looked at the young hustler again and knew he had to be about seventeen or eighteen. I remembered when I was his age, I was starting college—
look at me now
, I thought. I looked ahead and saw a young mother crossing the street with her daughter in her arms. It was three in the morning.

She dragged the young girl along, heading straight for the young hustler. Draped in long shabby looking coats and tattered shoes, she was a fiend going through hard times because of her addiction.

I watched the girl unwillingly going along with her mother. Her hair hadn’t been comb in weeks, her expression showed tiredness. That little girl needed to be in bed.

The mother said something to the hustler but he wasn’t having it. She was fidgeting like the monkey was riding her back.

After about a minute of negotiation, the young mother disappeared into the alley way with the hustler leaving her two year old daughter alone on the curve.

What the fuck
. I gazed at this little girl waiting for her mother to come out the alley after giving the hustler a sexual favor. The child stood alone in the night, unfazed by the absence of her mother.

I was about to step out the car forgetting the blowjob. It was a cold, dangerous area. This side of life reminded me of being thirteen. When my father took me driving in his sky blue Plymouth and showed me the good and the ugly side of life. He showed me what life was like on Park Avenue
and Jamacia Estates, and then showed me what life was like in the slums of Brooklyn and Queens. He loved to drive and talk.

“Remember life is a gift, Vincent. How you live it, is your choice. I want to see you achieve and go far. I don’t want you to waste your life on drugs, sex, and alcohol. You’re better than that. I know you’re my son.”

I got emotional thinking about my father’s words. I watched the girl standing alone on a cold street corner while her mother was in the alley, and thought, this is the ugly side of life. I had whips, cribs and money, but far from my father’s standards.

“Ease up,” I said no longer in the mood.

Cherie lifted her head from my lap, wiped her mouth, “What’s wrong, baby?” she asked.

“Ain’t nothing.”

“I did sump’n wrong?”

“I’m gonna take you home,” I said, starting up the car.

“You okay?”

Ignoring her, I watched the girl like I was her guardian angel. I was about to intervene when her mother emerged from the alley. The young hustler behind her was zipping up his pants. That bitch’s crazy leaving her daughter alone on the streets like that. I thought driving slowly by her with a mean stare.

Who was I to be mad? Her addiction was making me a rich man. I dropped Cherie off and made it back home to my boo Cashmere.

It was four in the morning when I walked into the three bedroom apartment, with marble floors, and two bathrooms in Germantown. The place was dark. Cashmere was upset when she left the club hours ago. Here I was at four in the morning, quietly roaming the place, aware that Cashmere had a loaded .380 and knew how to use it to.

“Baby, where you at?” I asked cocking my gat.

“Where you at…?” I was looking from room to room.

I went into the master bedroom and noticed that the bathroom door was shut but the light was on. Slowly I crept to the bathroom.

“Cashmere, you okay?”

No answer.

I pushed open the bathroom door and braced myself for the worse.
With the door pushed completely opened, I saw Cashmere sitting on the toilet, scantily clad in a silk robe and in tears.

“Cashmere, what’s goin’ on?” I asked.

“I’m pregnant!” She said tossing me the home pregnancy test.

“Oh shit,” I replied.

“And you wanna fuck that bitch!”

 

“Spoon, turn to channel nine news right now,” John-John hollered over the phone.

“What happened?” Spoon questioned.

Spoon was on his way out the door when John-John called with some urgent news to tell him.

“That bitch Tip murdered in LI was the daughter of a DEA agent,” John-John said forgetting how Feds could be listening.