Crave All Lose All (7 page)

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Authors: Erick Gray

BOOK: Crave All Lose All
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Tyriq gave the bouncers dap and fifty dollar tips. He was a regular and we were led to an empty booth in the back that easily sat a dozen people.
R. Kelly’s
Honey Love
blared through the club. I sat and gazed at a beautiful honey-brown, topless stripper seductively clinging to a pole, her thick hips gyrating to the smooth tune. She was clad in a string thong, clear six inch wedge heels, rich, thick, black hair flowing from under a white cowgirl hat. The hat was different and that did it for me.
“Ayyite, you like that?” Tyriq asked nudging me.
“I could get wit’ dat ass,” I replied.
“You lookin’ like you ready to spend some money,” Tyriq said.
I laughed embarrassed that I had no money and continue watching the stage. Money sprinkled everywhere and the music switched up from R to Jigga.
A waitress came over and placed two bottles of Cristal along with champagne glasses in front of us. Tyriq gave her a c-note. She smiled and
asked if we were good. We nodded and focused on the other girls surrounding us.
“I know you had Cristal before, right Vince?” Tyriq asked.
“Nah,” I said.
Tyriq popped open the bottle and began pouring.
“Ayyite, tonight we getting fucked up,” he announced drinking from the bottle.
Tip sat back casually, his black tank-top showing off his physique, huge ice around his neck, with a deadly gaze fixed on the crowd. I was hanging around ballers. But the lint gathering in my pocket was the only thing balling on me. My thoughts were soothed by Allure’s,
My love is the Shit.
From the ballers to the working man, there were all types in the club. I took a few sips of Cristal and decided I needed something else.
Tyriq whispered something to Tip. He reached in his pockets and passed something to Tyriq.
“Here you go my nigga,” Tyriq said leaning close to me.
I saw a wad of bills held together by a few rubber bands in his hand.
“What’s wit’ dis?” I asked.
“Just take it,” he offered.
“For me…?” I replied skeptical about taking the money.
I didn’t want to owe him. I was always my own man and never needed handouts from anyone except my mother.
“Yo Tyriq, I don’t wanna owe you, man.” I stated.
“Don’t insult me, Vince. We fam, ayyite. I’m looking out.”
“Nah, I can’t…I’m not wit’ that.”
“Take it and have a good time. I got plenty, ayyite?” he smiled.
Temptation, I knew what that was about. I was surrounded in a sea of pussy. Money was the bait used to catch a lap dance and get some pussy. I felt the urge but knew someday it might cost me more than I could afford.
I stared at shorti with the cowgirl hat. She twisted her lithe body around the pole like a pretzel. Her titties freely bounced. My dick got hard.
“Fuck it!”
I opened my hand and Tyriq passed me a wad.
“Do you, just don’t give it all to one pussy,” he joked.
“Let the games begin,” I nodded not caring.
The thought of my father and the principles he expected me to live by flew the coop. I had climbed in the nest with Tyriq.
The huge wad of cash felt good in my hand. My heart raced as in a hustler’s mile I went from nothing to the top of the devils’ advocate. I didn’t have to give the money back. It felt good.
I removed the rubber-bands and counted hundred after hundred-- four thousand dollars. Tyriq pulled out another wad and placed it on the table next to the champagne bottles.
He continued drinking. Among the ballers in the spot, Tyriq was a big man. His younger brother was buried this morning and he was acting nonchalant about it. This was his way of easing the pain, probably all part of a game.
The money in my hands had me thinking about bills that I could pay, clothes I could buy my son. Four thousand dollars may not be a lot to Tyriq, but it could do wonders for me. I thought about spending little and pocketing the rest for a rainy day.
But as the night went on, I ended up spending like I had it coming continuously. I got caught up in the hype with Tyriq, drinking and having pussy in my face like I was Hugh Hefner. Twenty-five hundred was burned in two hours. I had lap dances and spent half of the money on Star, the thick chick with the cowgirl hat. I bought her drinks, fondled her as she sat on my lap and tipped her with twenties.
I left the club with Star around three in the morning. She had her own ride, a black Honda Accord, and lived in Mt. Vernon. Once we were in her apartment, the both of us went at it, tearing at each other clothes with a keen lust to fuck the shit out of each other. I wasted no time throwing her into the doggystyle position and making waves out of that ass. For an hour strong the sex was crazy and I ended up passing out afterwards in her bed. Star went to sleep with my dick in her mouth.
Eight
The next morning, I awoke to the ringing of my cell. Forgetting where I was for a moment, I looked around the strange bedroom and was on the verge of freakin’ out. Shaking the cobwebs from my brain, I quickly came to my senses. I felt Star’s warm, butt-naked naked body next to me. Slowly I got it together and answered the call.
“Who this…?”
“Wake your ass up, nigga. That pussy good but we need to be out, ayyite?”
“Yo, I’m still in Mt. Vernon.”
“Yeah I know where you at, I’m parked outside,” he said to me.
“You outside…? How da fuck you know where she stay at?” I asked baffled.
“Yo, you think you the only baller that ho done fucked. Her pussy gets around faster than the latest Jay Z track. You wore a hat, right?”
“No doubt my nig,” I replied.
“Good, cuz me and Tip ran a train on her couple weeks ago,” he snickered.
“Word…?”
“Get dressed and come down, don’t keep me waiting long, my nigga.”
I jumped out of the bed. Star was asleep on her stomach, with that phatty in my view. She was eye candy fo’ sure, but not wifey. I gathered up my clothing and threw on my jeans, T-shirt, and searched for my boots.
I went into her bathroom and washed that smell of pussy off me. Star yawned and looked up at me when I came out.
“You leaving, baby?”
“Yeah, my peoples are waiting for me outside,” I said rushing.
I was about to walk out the door when I heard Star say, “Baby, before you leave, can you leave me a lil’ sump’n?”
“What, you mean some paper?”
She nodded.
I stared at her full thick figure, with her big titties in my view, and thought about getting that number for a second round someday.
“How much you need?” I asked.
“A few hundred, maybe five,” she said.
After I done spent about twelve-hundred on her in the club last night. I went into my pockets and pulled out the dwindling knot of money I still had. I looked at her and tossed a hundred dollar bill at her.
“That’s it?” she replied with attitude.
Gold-digger fo’ sure
, I thought. I snickered, collected myself and kept it moving.
Outside, Tyriq was waiting in his Escalade.
“What’s good wit’ you?” I greeted him with a dap.
“That bitch asked you for a tip, right?” He asked.
“Yeah, how you know?”
“Yo, she a thirsty-ass bitch always got her fuckin’ hands out. Shit, as much money my crew done blown on her, I need to drag her ass fuckin’ downstairs and have her work a corner for me,” he laughed.
“Where’s Tip?” I asked.
“Takin’ care of sump’n,” he said driving off. “I know you hungry, nigga?”
“No digga…”
We ate at a nearby IHop, chatting up old times. He updated me on Susan’s pregnancy and their situation.
“Yeah, her pops definitely didn’t like no nigga like me running up in his baby girl. Yo, Vince man, I got that bitch in pocket sump’n serious. She’s made a few runs down south for me in the new Benz her daddy bought.
She was sneaking around, but once that bitch got pregnant, she
came clean to her father about me. He deaded that bitch, trust fund gone and everything. Fuck her daddy. I got that bitch still makin’ ends.”
“Damn!” I said.
“But I saw you gettin’ cozy wit’ Asia. You fucked her again?”
I smiled.
“Ayyite, pussy is like a fuckin’ drug to you.”
“Best thing for a nigga to relax wit’,” I joked.
Tyriq laughed. “Nigga, how many bitches you done fucked since we were kids?”
“Enough…”
“That’s why you broke now nigga, always spending fuckin’ papers on bitches. You should be gettin’ that money, ayyite.”
“Yeah, I know. Live and learn, right.”
“I’m learning how to get fucking paid right now, locking shit down out here, ayyite?” Tyriq said.
“I’m wit’ you.”
Tyriq took a few bites out of his pancakes and I dined on waffles and eggs. I wished Spoon was with us, it would’ve been like we were all eighteen again.
It was reaching afternoon when we headed back to Queens. The sun shone brighter as the day wore on. I needed to shower and a nap.
“Yo, Vincent, how’s your son doing?” Tyriq asked driving down the Grand Central.
“He’s good.”
“Ayyite, how old is he now, four?”
“Yeah, he’s my lil’ soldier,” I stated.
“What about Chandra, you still fuckin’ her?” Tyriq smiled.
“Nah, we been done wit.”
“Word…? I remember she used to be at your crib all the time. Damn, I thought y’all was gonna get married and I was gonna be your best man and shit.”
“Shit changed. She’s doing her and I’m doing me.”
“Ayyite, I hear that. But you could be really down, Vince. What you tryin’ to do? You tryin’ to find another nine to five or you want some serious paper in your pockets?”
“I’m trying to survive and I wanna take care of my son,” I said.
“I respect that. But you need to step your game up, ayyite? In this world, you’re either a somebody or a nobody. To put it simply, you either gonna be a hawk, or a fucking duck. A hawk takes what it wants, by swooping down and snatching up its prey quickly and fuckin’ shit up with ‘em claws and those big ass wings. Ducks, they lay around like a prey to everything. You living like a duck, Vince. Falling prey to society, you letting these fuckin’ crackers make decisions for you.”
“I hear you,” I nodded.
“Me Vince, I’m an entrepreneur. I run these streets. Ain’t no cracker telling me how to handle biz, Vince?”
“I’m wit’ you.”
“This game, the hustling it’s
my
American dream right. I didn’t have to go to no college and take out loans to get what I got. I don’t owe no-fuckin’-body. Muthafuckas out here-they owe me.”
“I’m wit’ you.”
“You my nigga Vince…”
“No doubt…”
“We like fuckin’ brothers. You always had my back and I always have yours. You like the one nigga I trust out here, cuz I don’t trust no-fuckin’body. Shit, my moms and your moms went to church together. Ain’t that some crazy shit?”
“I know,” I replied.
“I hate to see my brother struggling. You’re better off without that job anyway. In Africa, we had mutha fuckin’ dynasties. We were the first peoples to live like kings. The fuckin’ Europeans stripped that away from us. They made us their bitch, had us slaving in their fields. I refuse to be anybody’s bitch,” Tyriq stated.
I nodded.
“I’d rather die on my feet, than…”
“… Live on my knees…” I said finishing the statement. He looked at me, smiling.
“Ayyite my nigga, I follow that rule every fuckin’ day.” We exchange dap and Tyriq continued. “You tired of living on your knees, Vince? I know you want mo’-better.”
I quietly peered out the truck thinking about what Tyriq was saying.
“Why you need me?” I asked.
“I need a nigga to make a few runs out of town for me,” he informed.
We got off the Van Wyck expressway. Tyriq continued to talk, trying to coax me. He reached into his pockets and pulled out a wad of hundreds.
“See this here, Vince,” he said waving the knot, “this is what it’s all about. This is power right here. With money like this niggas and bitches are gonna be on their knees ready to suck your dick for a piece. This is chump change right here. I’m getting mines.”
I saw a baby-blue Lexus pull up beside us with two fine females sitting in the front seat. I smiled flirtingly at them. To my surprise the driver smiled waving politely at me. We stared at each other for a few.
“See, that’s what the fuck I’m talkin’ about! You getting distracted by pussy when I’m tryin’ to put some paper in your pockets,” Tyriq shouted.
“I was just lookin’…”
“Fuck them hos and do you.”
“You right,” I said.
The light changed, and soon we were on the block again. I pulled out the money left over from last night and handed it to him outside my crib.

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