Giving Him Something He Can Feel (8 page)

As we walked in the club, Young Jeezy was playing in the background and all the hoes were out dancing on the stage hoping to land a baller for the night. A few of the hoes were doing tricks on the pole like they were mermaids. Everybody in that bitch was drinking, smoking, throwing cash, and having a good time. By that time, I was already feeling myself from the Hennessy shots. Shawn was nowhere in sight as normal but it was cool because I was fucked up and in my zone. I look around at all the chicken heads running around looking to get plucked and then I spotted a hen. I mean that bitch was bad, the head bitch of the coop. I saw her glance at me and start to walk over. I thought to myself, “This bitch here can get the business.” She favored Nia Long from the movie “Love Jones.” She walked over and finally approached me. She was smiling and licking her lips.

“Hey cutie, I don’t think I ever seen you here before. My name is Lola.” That bitch was fine.

“What the hell you doing working in here Lola?” I asked her. I didn’t really give a fuck; I just wanted to spark a conversation.

“It pays the bills so I gotta do what I gotta do right?”

“Yeah you right, well let me contribute to your income. Let me get a private lap dance?” She took a sip of whatever she had in her cup and said, “That’s a hundred dollars for two songs. You sure you wanna private dance from me?” I guess she figured I couldn’t afford it because I wasn’t iced out and dressed to her liking. Her ass must be used to all those niggas playing her out of some money.

“Yeah I’m sure baby girl…” I dug in my pockets in search of some cash. “And listen, money’s not a thing to me alright. So let’s go Miss Lola.” She took my hand and guided me to the private dance area. Once I got in the room, I gave her $200 for the dance. She looked surprised.

“It’s only a hundred dollars sweetie why you give me $200?”

I had never heard a stripper tell a nigga he tipped her too much. “That’s your tip if you do a good job with this dance,” I told her. Lola went straight for it and started dancing slowly. She was moving her body slow like a snake. Next thing you know she was on top of me grinding and humping. She had on a black and white two piece outfit. The outfit caught my attention because it was cheaply made. The rhinestones were falling off while she was stroking on my dick. The club rules was supposed to be no touching but I managed to grab a titty or two every now and again. Shit, they didn’t put those curtains up for nothing. My dick was hard as a missile and started to rise through my pants. At that point, all I wanted was some head. She was grinding on me like she wanted it anyway, so I offered a suggestion. “I’ll give you two hundred dollars for a quickie and some head.” It didn’t take her long to deliberate because Lola pulled my pants down and started sucking. “DAMN!” Her mouth felt so damn good.

My dick needed to be resuscitated and Lola had the CPR experience to do it. I placed my hands on the back of her head to keep up with her bobble head motion. I threw my head back once I started to feel my sperm flowing to the head of my dick. She kept deep throating my shit nonstop. I didn’t feel guilty about that shit either. Lola’s mouth was tight, wet, and warm. I grabbed the back of her head and screamed out, “Damn baby, I’m about to bust.”

Lola started moving her head faster and said, “Do it. Do it daddy. Nut right in my mouth.” It didn’t take much more for me to do as told. She sucked it all up, swallowed my kids, and then got my shit brick hard again. Leaving her slob on my dick, Lola stood up and said, “What you gonna do with that big dick?” I stroked my dick up and down to keep it from going soft then got up out of the chair. “I’ma show ya what I’m bout to do with it.” She thought when I asked for a quickie it was for the pussy. Don’t get me wrong, Lola was sexy as fuck, she had that stripper body. But I didn’t want her pussy, I wanted her ass. I bent her over and put my brick hard dick right in her tiny asshole. She screamed for me to get out but it was too late; I was already in. “I’m so happy you went in the upper hole”, Lola said. After a couple of long hard strokes, Lola managed to take it. Her ass felt amazing but I could tell she was no ass virgin. In fact it wasn’t tight at all. It didn’t take me long to nut so I quickly pulled out of her ass. My dick was still leaking so she sucked that up too. “Damn Lola... You the bomb Ma.” I dug in my pockets quicker than Uncle Sam to give her ass some more dough. She grabbed the money out of my hands and said, “Yeah I know, everybody tells me I got some good shit.” She counted all the money I gave her then stuffed it in her pussy.

“Hold up, hold the fuck up, what you mean everybody?”

“Nigga do you think you the only one that asks me to fuck?” Her point was taken. After all, she was a fucking stripper. Then she said it, “Nigga I’m a stripper. I get customers every damn night. But um you were the only stupid motherfucker that went in me raw though.” She put her bikini top back on. She began putting her thong back on and fixed her hair. “Now, are you paying for something else because if not I’m leaving out… you had your money’s worth.”

I fixed myself up, made sure my pants were zipped,
that there were no cum spots on my shirt, then walked out of the private room, and went back into the main club to look for Shawn.

Kandi

It had been hours since Caine left and now he wasn’t answering his phone. All of my calls were going straight to voicemail and I was becoming more pissed by the minute.

YOU HAVE REACHED THE VOICEMAIL BOX OF…
Caine Johnson
…PLEASE LEAVE YOUR MESSAGE AT THE SOUND OF THE BEEP…

I took a deep breath and waited for the beep.

BEEP…

“I know I did you wrong and I’m very sorry. But damn Caine, don’t you think I at least deserve a phone call to let me know if you’re okay? Please call me back so we can talk and sort this out. I love you Caine.” I hung up.

I was more furious with myself because I knew better. I knew better than to mess up my money flow with Caine. Sugar Caine was what I called him. When we first got together, he was the sweetest guy I’d ever met. He would take me on numerous dates per week, open all the doors for me, and send me flowers just because. I remember our second date like it was yesterday. He took me to his place and cooked dinner for me. It was the most romantic thing ever and his crib was laid out. He had oversized lion, tiger, and panther pictures everywhere. There was something like a jungle theme going on. Two black leather sectionals, three 60-inch Sony flat screen TVs, a nice lit fireplace, and best of all, a white bear-skinned rug that rested so lovely on hardwood floors. I couldn’t have set his place up any better myself. He even had R&B slow jams playing.
112’
s hit song “
Anywhere”
came on the radio, and Caine started to sing it to me. Besides Usher, Caine knew I loved me some 112 so I didn’t mind him singing to me. Once the song went off, he laid a kiss upon my cheek and went into the kitchen. The nigga must’ve thought he was Chef Boyardee because he wore an apron and a chef’s hat while he was cooking. He fed me a three-course surf and turf meal. After dinner came dessert and then a little foreplay. I was in love with him and his money.

Caine was different from the street niggas I was used to. I needed a gentleman in my life and he was there to fill that void. I was all too familiar with the want-to-be pimps and street gangsters. The ones that didn’t have respect for anybody but themselves. I was sure Caine had done his share of shit, but it was nothing the money couldn’t make up for.

I called Caine several more times but there was still no answer. He must’ve turned his phone off because after a while it stopped ringing and went straight to voicemail. My mind started thinking a million thoughts per second. I hoped that the next day would bring Caine home where he belonged. I laid across my bed and within minutes, I dozed off.

The Drama Begins

Alex

I hate when you need niggas. They’re never around or better yet never answer the damn phone. “Yo nigga, answer the damn phone.”

My shit was lumped up from that faggot ass nigga Caine. That nigga wanted to go hard; catch me off guard and shit. Hell, if the nigga knew how long I was getting that
pussy from Kandi, he would’ve pulled out the burner. I chuckled to myself. What the fuck was I talking about; I bet that bitch ass nigga didn’t own no heat. Rico finally pick up the fucking phone. Rico was family, my first cousin.

“Yo, y
o, Rico,” I yelled in the phone.

“Nigga, I just had a situation with shorty’s punk ass husband. I need to get at him quick like, feel me?”

There was a brief silence then Rico said, “So nigga you mean to tell me, you didn’t handle the situation while you was there?” Rico said that shit like he never got dealt with before. Shit, I saw the time when we were kids, and a little boney ass nigga named Trey straight handled Rico. Had him running home to mama, crying and shit. Niggas used to punk his ass all over the neighborhood. He was in his late twenties still getting his ass whipped. That was until he came back home from prison. Nigga said he was benching no less than three hundred daily, so now the nigga walked around with no T-shirt on, flexing and shit. He was down for whatever and don’t let him feel disrespected. One time at the club in Virginia Beach, we were fucked up out of our minds and the spot was packed with bitches. That slick ass nigga Rico went to holler at a young bird. Well I guess that bitch’s nigga felt disrespected while Rico was hollering at her. He felt bold and stepped to Rico like he was bout it bout it. Rico rocked his ass like Debo did that nigga in “
Friday
.” Rico took all of the nigga’s cash and jewelry while he was still limp bodied on the ground. Once the nigga came to, he was so embarrassed he shit himself, and then staggered out of the club. We lived it up that night with old dude’s money. We splurged on bottle after bottle of that top shelf shit. When the DJ played Jim Jones’s “
We Fly High
,” Rico put that nigga’s Rolex on and started waving it in the air. Like he bought the shit. He put on all that nigga’s jewelry while rapping to the song. That’s why I fucked with him.

“Look cuz, I’m not trying to get into all that right now. I’m just trying to holla at this nigga ASAP. You riding or what nigga?” I already knew Rico was down for whatever so it was no surprise when he said, “You know I’m riding cuzo.”

“He lumped my shit up and put a pistol to my head. I didn’t even have time to see that nigga because I left my heat in the car.” I had to state my case to that nigga like I was on trial.

“Yo, you don’t have to do all that A,” Rico said. “I know how you get down. I got you nigga; we can take care of this nigga. Where he be at?”

Normally I didn’t mind Rico asking questions but that nigga was asking too many I wasn’t trying to answer at that moment. I was trying to talk normal knowing got damn well my jaw was probably broken. Shit I’d give it to Caine. He got my ass good. There were no rules to the price that nigga was going to pay.

“Look I know where he lives so shit’s about to pop off and soon nigga,” I told Rico. I said it with confidence as if I didn’t just get my ass handed to me.

“That’s what up, come through and scoop a nigga then cuz. You know I stay ready, these niggas can’t see me in these streets for real.” That nigga was always ready to go to war.

“Yeah, yeah, nigga I know,” I told him. Rico started laughing because he knew he was getting all fired up and shit.

“Alright hit me up when you get outside,” he told me.

“Alright nigga,” I said and I hung up.

Truth was that nigga Caine caught me with my pants down. The nigga tackled me as I was leaving out. Niggas don’t tackle niggas from the back like that. Only faggot ass niggas that were scared to face me like a
G
would do some bitch shit like that. As far as the whole pistol and shit went, I couldn’t let the fam know everything. I couldn’t tell him I got lumped up on some punk ass shit, so I extended the truth a little bit. Shit, moral of the story was, I was about to get at that nigga Caine. I was about to make that nigga meet his maker, but first I had to go deal with my crazy ass baby mama.

Lola

I left the club hours ago after making some good cash from this
wack ass nigga.
As soon as I get my daughter out my hair I will be going right back to the club and hit these niggas in their pocket. “Mommy, mommy, mommy.” If that little girl called my name on more time. All she did all damn day was call me for something, and then she never wanted shit.

“Yes Chyna, what is it?” She was running all through the apartment. Spinning, twirling, and fucking shit up just like any other five year old.

“Is Daddy coming today to pick me up?” That was the question she always asked, but I was never certain of the answer. Her daddy was and always would be the love of my life. We met at Magic City about six years ago. He came in the club and I had an instant attraction to him. He was smooth and looking fine as shit. You could tell he was mixed with something. The way his waves ran all across his head was the dead giveaway. His clothes were on point and his ice complimented his wrist. I thought he favored Keith Sweat. You could tell that whatever he did he was the boss of it.

“I guess honey, but you know his sorry ass will probably make an excuse not to show up.” I knew that wasn’t the smartest thing to tell her, but shit it was the truth. I walked over to the window and glanced out. I saw Alex coming up to the door looking like he got his ass whooped.

“Chyna, Chyna come here baby doll! Your daddy’s here,” I yelled for her to come.

“Okay Momma… I’m coming, I promise,” she told me.

I couldn’t help but smile a little because my baby girl was growing up so fast and she was the spitting image of her father. I’m talking carbon copy.

I opened the door and wasted no time going in on his ass.

“Bout time your sorry ass got here.” It hurt me to talk to him that way but that nigga bugged out on me whenever he felt like it. Normally Alex always had a slick or threatening come back but not that day. He didn’t say shit back. “Damn. Chyna been waiting all fucking day for you nigga,” I said as I stood there with my hand out. He was aggravated, got pissed off, and said, “Not now bitch. And what the fuck you got your hand out for?” I didn’t hesitate to answer his question. “I’m waiting for you to put some cash in my got damn hand nigga.” He smacked my hand out of his way and walked in the apartment.