I Use To Love You: A Hood Chick's Revenge (7 page)

My pussy was wetter than a faucet as I followed him to his condo. They were newer developments on Wisconsin Avenue, right next to the Grand Avenue Mall, which was the main strip in the downtown area. It was fly to me how he could enter the building through the front entrance on Wisconsin, through the mall, or through the parking structure.

Once again it was on and popping in the elevator after we parked in the two spaces he was given as a tenant in the parking structure. I didn’t get down and dirty like I did in Vegas. I just rubbed the nigga’s dick and blew in his ear. I wanted to get him heated up for the main event. When we got up to his lavish ass condo, with ceilings as high as a temple, and a view that overlooked most of the downtown area, he set out some fire ass dro.

We smoked it out of the pipe I’d bought in Denver I figured it was the least I could do. Because all I was offering the nigga was the best pussy he ever had. He wasn’t getting any of my Indigo Gold. I wished we had some molly to roll off of but I was cool with just being high as a muthafucka. We got shit cracking as soon as we were finished smoking.

“Uh-uh. Keep those open,” I said as I sunk into his sofa and kicked my heels off. “I want to look at the city while you eat this pussy.” I hiked up my dress and slid my thong off. I tossed it at him as he opened the vertical blinds with the remote. He also dimmed the lights and lit his fire by remote before he walked over and got down on his knees.

I’m surprised the romantic ass nigga didn’t put on some soft music
. I almost laughed out loud. But I really wouldn’t have tripped if he did. The truth is: even a grimy street bitch could appreciate a gentleman from time to time. I put my feet on the edge of the sofa and cocked my shit as wide as I could. I stared up into the night sky as he put those pretty lips of his to work on my clit. Them muthafuckas were just as soft as they looked. He started out real slow and tender, gently sucking on my shit as if it was a lollipop. He was taking his time and paying attention to detail, slowly getting me heated up, the same way I did him on the elevator.

“You understand why they call me Phat Kat now?”

It took me a while to get the words out because that nigga had me moaning and cursing. I was trying to focus on the buildings and night scenery of the downtown area but I could barely keep my eyes open.

“Talk to me baby…tell me that ain’t the fattest and juiciest pussy you ever tasted.”

It was driving me even crazier how he kept on about his business without talking back. His response was to speed up. He began smacking and nibbling on my shit like it was a piece of bubble gum. I clamped my calves against his ears and came hard as a muthafucka. That nigga had me feeling as if I was as high as one of those stars in the night sky.

He slid his tongue in my pussy and his middle finger into my ass at the same time.

“You like how that pussy taste don’t you?”

I’d barely gotten the words out before I was exploding again. This time was harder and more intense than the last. He pried my legs open and buried his tongue as far as he could into my pussy while he continued to fuck me in the ass with his finger. When my next orgasm came, it felt like my soul slipped out of my body. I cried out, cussed and found god.

“Uh-uh. Get yo ass up, nigga.” I put my foot on his shoulder and pushed him back. Jahlil had a big smile on his face when he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Had enough Phat Kat?” I tried to laugh right along with him but I was struggling to catch my breath.

“Oh now you wanna talk to me huh, nigga.” I sat up and helped him get out of his clacks and draws. I jacked him off hard and fast until I had him on rock. I rubbed the tip of his dick with my thumb and looked up into his face. The flames burning in the fireplace were just enough light to see how he was fiendin’ to feel my lips around his shit.

I gently rubbed the head across my lips and blew lightly. I massaged the nigga’s nuts with my free hand. His face was screwed up and his mouth was hanging open. I teased the line that ran up the middle of his shit with the tip of my tongue and then leaned back on the couch.

“Okay, nigga. Put a condom on and give me some of that dick.” He looked down at me as if he couldn’t believe I was going to leave him hanging like that. When I started laughing he couldn’t help but do the same.

“Alright.” He shrugged. “I’m ready to see if it feels as fat and juicy as it tastes.”

I laughed as he left the room. He was completely naked when he came back. I helped him roll the condom on tight and then watched the amazement in his eyes when I leaned back on the couch and sat on my hands with my legs cocked open, perfectly straight like an old school rabbit ear antennae, and held the pose like a muthafuckin gymnast.

“Don’t be star struck nigga. Come get this pussy.”

I didn’t have to tell him twice. He bent down and slid deep inside of me. I had already been impressed by how long and thick Jahlil’s dick was when I was jagging him off and teasing him. Now that he was stroking in and out of me, his dick felt like it had gained another inch. I flexed my pussy muscles on that nigga, making sure I clamped my walls around his dick with every stroke. Two minutes in and I felt his whole body stiffen up. He started moaning a little louder and his strokes got shorter.

“Ooh, god damn, Phat Kat. This is the fattest cat…” The nigga didn’t get another word out before he nutted like it was his first time. I watched his ass twist and jerk with a smirk on my face.
Yeah, nigga. Say my muthafuckin name
. I slowly let my legs down on the floor and sat back on the couch with my arms folded.

“Damn.” He was on his knees, using the couch to hold himself up as he tried to catch his breath. “That wasn’t fair at all.”

I laughed. “You understand the meaning behind my name now?”

He nodded still trying to catch his breath. “It’s definitely the fattest and juiciest. Not to mention the best I ever had. How do you not have a man?”

I sat up and grabbed his face. “I never said I didn’t. But fuck all of that nigga, I know you have a round two in you.”

He stood straight up and slowly rolled the condom off his dick, which looked like a water balloon filled with nut. He then helped me up from the couch.

“I got a round 2, 3, and 4 for you. But no tricks with your legs this time.”

He led me into his bedroom, slid another condom on, and banged me out from the back. He had me bent over his bed with my face buried in the pillow. He had my ass cheeks gripped and was slapping them from time to time, really feeling himself. He was talking that nasty dirty shit to me, about it being his pussy and how I’d never felt anybody beat it up like that. He was the man until I started throwing it back on him. That nigga lasted for another thirty seconds before his body got all tight and he came so hard he collapsed on the bed afterwards.

“I’m kidnapping your ass. You’re never leaving this condo. That pussy is just too good.” He got up and threw the condom in the toilet and came back and dove on the bed next to me. “I’m officially in love with you, Phat Kat.”

“You’re in love with this pussy, not me.”

I climbed off the bed and flipped a light switch on so I could check his crib out.

“You better catch your breath, boo because I am leaving out the front door by the time the sun comes up, and you’ll never see me again. So I’d advise you to get all of this good pussy that you can.”

I swagged out of the bedroom with my titties bouncing and my ass switching, naked as the day I came into the world. On one wall in the hallway that connected all the different rooms in the condo there were pictures of him with rappers, Game, Nippsey Hustle, and YG. There were also photos of him courtside at the Staples Center watching the Los Angeles Lakers and Clippers play. There were also a few of him at spring break, on a cruise, and posing on the strip in Vegas. He was always wearing red and with bad bitches, except the ones with the rappers.

On the opposite wall was a bachelor’s degree in business management from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and an MBA degree from Marquette University.
Who the hell is this nigga?
There were also pictures of both of his graduation days alongside the degrees. The only ones where his ass wasn’t in red. In a couple of them he had his arm around a pretty older woman with Cartier frames on. I was guessing it was his mom and the other one was of his pops. He looked like both of them in different ways.

“We’re being a little nosy aren’t we?” The sound of his voice startled me.

“I sure am. I want to see what type of dude I’m over her fuckin’.”

When he stepped in the hall and leaned his shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms, my eyes roamed over every inch of his six foot plus frame. He was made of nothing but lean muscle from his chest down to his calves.

“Why do you care if it’s just for tonight?”

“Um, excuse me, Jahlil…” I looked at one of his degrees hanging on the wall. “Jahlil Walker. I’m the bitch with the pussy you’re in love with, so therefore I’ll be asking the questions.”

He held up his hands and laughed. “What do you want to know?”

“First of all, who the hell are you?” I had my hand on my hip as I snaked my neck. “You look like some type of banger on this wall. And like some type of muthafuckin valedictorian over here.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe I’m both. Maybe I’m a banger and a school boy. Do you really think I’ma tell all of my business to a woman I won’t see after tonight?” he shrugged his shoulders again.

“If you want some mo of this good-good you will.”

“Oh, I think you're going to give me some of that anyway.” He started stroking his dick back to life. I licked my lips as I looked down at that long and thick muthafucka rock up. I did want to try it at least one more time before I bounced.

“Well tell me this,” I said as I slowly approached him. “Are you from here? Because I know some of everybody. Especially the major street playas.” I stood in front of him just out of the reach of his dick.

“I’m from the west coast. Los Angeles, California. I was just out there when L.V. the Don got killed in Vegas.” I blinked a couple of times when he mentioned that country rapping ass nigga. But I would never let that nigga see me sweat. “When my parents got divorced my mother moved here. I stayed with my father until I came to school out here. And I’ve been back and forth ever since. Now that you know all of that, can I get one for the road?”

I smiled as I dropped to my knees. I commenced to sucking that nigga’s dick so good I practically had him begging me to stop. I let him hit the pussy one more time and put his ass to sleep. And that’s when I snuck out of his crib and life for good.

I didn’t want to wake my ass up when my iPhone started vibrating on the stand next to the bed. A bitch was tired after all of that sucking and fucking and nutting me and Jahlil did. The moment I got back to my hotel room I kicked off my heels and collapsed on the bed. Before I drifted off into a coma I decided the dress would have to wait until later on in the day. I stared at the number before I pressed accept.
Who the hell could this be? I haven’t given the number but to one muthafucka
. When I answered and heard Adrienne’s voice I sat up in bed like I was rising out of a coffin.

At first the bitch was spitting out her words rapid fire. I had to tell her more than once to slow the hell down and take her time. She took a couple of deep breaths and told me that Ivan had hit her up. He wanted to take her shopping the next day. I immediately got in my chest, thinking about Ivan tricking off some of the cash I helped him get off L.V. the Don. But I quickly reminded myself that this wasn’t Adrienne’s fault, and I had to stay focused if I was going to come out on top.

I began interrogating her ass about why she chose to trust me. What convinced her that I kept it one hundred about Ivan and Kim K.’s triflin’ asses? How did she come to the conclusion I wasn’t just being a jealous bitch? I needed to make sure she hadn’t broken down to Ivan and this all wasn’t nothing but a setup. Adrienne claimed Ivan slipped up when she asked him what time he was going to pick her up to go shopping. He told her that he was going to wait until Kim went by her mother’s house.
Ivan’s ass was going to be bmf’o at the mall and Kim K. was going to visit mommy. I got both of you bitches.

Adrienne instantly knew he was on some bullshit. She remembered told Ivan telling her that Kim K. was a business associate. So why was he waiting until she went by her mother’s house? Everything I told her about both of their dirty asses came rushing back. I was impressed how her square ass said she was able to play it off and end the call with Ivan without him catching on. It had to be the million dollars that made his tongue a little looser. I was used to his game being much tighter than that. But then again a muthafucka could say that about me. Only a dumb bitch would go to a house where Ivan knew he could find me at.

I ended the call with Adrienne geeked. At some point during the following day I know where to find Ivan and Kim K. I showered up and got dressed in a sky blue Pelle varsity jacket, a matching t-shirt and sweatpants. I slid my Mare Jacob shades on to protect my eyes from the beaming sun on my way out of the hotel. My strap and my iPhone were inside my Mare Jacob bag. At two o’clock in the afternoon it was a warm spring day. I put on a fake ass smile and said hello to the other guests I passed on the way to the Charger. None of them realized that I was a dangerous bitch on the loose. I was a bitch that was about to turn up the heat on everyone in my path.

Another mistake I made was not getting the windows tinted on the Charger. What sense did it make for me to be trying to creep if everybody could see my yellow ass? So my first stop of the day was this popular shop in the Mil called Candy Rain. Expensive paint jobs, customized interior, stereo installation and anything else you might need done to a whip. I was plotting and scheming while I waited for them to finish hoking the Charger up with the five percent tint. I stepped out of the waiting area and walked out into the small parking lot when I came up with a way to get at Kim K. and Ivan at the same time. I took a deep breath and dialed Meka’s number. She was the only bitch I could call a friend, since Kim K. had stabbed me in the back and took my nigga.

It was becoming obvious I wasn’t going to be able to kill Ivan and Kim K., get the money back, sell the dope and relocate without a little help here and there. Trusting muthafuckas while I was doing dirt went against everything I learned in the streets, that’s why my stomach was in knots while I waited on the bitch to pick up.

“Hello?” Meka said, cautiously, probably wondering who the number belonged to.

“What up bitch?”

“Phat Kat?” It only took her a second to recognize my voice.

“I need to come holla at you. Can you fit me in? My Mohawk is looking ratchet.”

“I bet it is,” she said laughing.

“So you’ll fit me in?”

“Bitch you know I ain’t going to say no to you. Just come to the shop any time after four. We got a lot more to holla about than that nappy ass Mohawk on your head.”

I paused. It wasn’t long enough for her to catch on, but I got a little nervous thinking about what she might know.

“Bitch, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t play the role with me Phat Kat. You know it ain’t hard to keep up with the streets when you own a shop. And they’re sayin that Ivan and that wanna-be famous white bitch that you’re suppose to be so tight with, have been spendin a lot of time together.”

I sighed. “I’ll holla at you about it when I get there.”

“Yep,” Meka said, sounding a little disappointed.

My blood was boiling by the time I ended the call. It wasn’t enough for them two phony ass muthafuckas to cut me out of the money and leave me for dead in Vegas. Now they were humiliating me in front of everybody. I marched back into the waiting area, cussing underneath my breath, wishing they would hurry the hell up with those damn windows.

“You’re about the only bitch I know who could rock her shit with half her head completely bald and still be cute,” Meka said as she held the mirror up for me to check out her work. She had my shit freshly spiked at the top and the side of my head trimmed low like a throwback Halle Berry bob. I smiled at my reflection. Meka was right, there was not another bitch in Milwaukee County who could do that style like I was doing it.

“Bad bitches always separate themselves from those basic hoes,” I said as we laughed. She took the mirror out of my hand and put it back in the drawer. “Here bitch, take yo money.” She laughed as she snatched it out of my hand.

“Come on, let’s go spark up while we chop it up,” Meka said while leading the way through her shop.

I got up from the chair, bobbing my head to Big Sean/E-40
I Don’t Fuck Wit You
pumping out of the speakers mounted on the ceiling of the shop. It was the perfect anthem for anybody who’d been betrayed by a muthafucka they’d given their heart to. I followed Meka to the storage room in the very back of the shop. Don the Barber and this new cat, Meka just hired, Rico, were cutting a couple of cats heads. They both nodded at me. But Don didn’t make much eye contact with me. He knew Ivan was a bogus ass nigga for how he played me for that dirty white bitch.

“Meka, don’t forget I still need to holla at you before I leave,” the cute chubby nigga who was in Rico’s chair said. Meka cut her eyes at me and rolled them and sighed.

“If it’s that important, then you’ll wait until I’m finished choppin it up with my girl.” Meka closed the door once we were both inside the storage room.

“Fat nigga don’t want shit but some pussy,” Meka said with much attitude. I started laughing. “I hope the nigga’s money is long.”

Meka was a cute bitch with a light brown complexion, who kept it hood from head to toe. Today she had the long Beyonce wig on and was racking a lime green Enyce t-shirt and Enyce stone-washed jeans that were ripped at the knees. Her flip-flops, toenails, nails, lipstick and bracelets all matched her t-shirt. It would’ve been too much on another bitch. On Meka it made her look like a ghetto queen.

“I got this shit down in Denver. It’s goin to put you on yo ass,” I said as I packed my pipe with the Indigo Gold.

“We’ll see bitch.”

We passed the pipe back and forth and got high as a muthafucka. I looked around at the neatly stacked boxes of beauty and barber supplies, admiring how organized Meka was. I know I’m high when shit crosses my mind like that. Even though I was running my mouth, I was still careful about what came out of it. I told her we were out of town on a lick and those two muthafuckas tried to leave me for dead. I didn’t tell her where we were, what lick we hit, or any of the other dirt I’d done after that.

Meka was a sharp hood bitch, who stacked enough cash to open a very successful business. She owned the entire building which included four apartments upstairs and office space next door that she was planning on turning into a nail salon. Me and Meka had jammed from the start because we were cut from the same cloth. We were both born with the deck stacked against us and had to get our hands dirty to make a better way.

She knew about plenty of dirt me and Ivan had done without knowing all of the details. And I was sure she knew I was leaving out some this time. But all that really mattered was that those two backstabbing muthafuckas tried to kill me. And I needed her help.

“So you want to use one of the apartments upstairs to hold that white bitch hostage?” she asked as she hit the pipe one last time as hard as she could.

“It’ll just be until I get Ivan to meet up with me.”

Meka started laughing.

“You high as hell bitch,” she said looking into the pipe. “We gonna have to roll down to Denver and cop some mo of that shit.” She started laughing again. Meka always got silly as hell whenever she got high.

“Meka, I’m serious,” I said, wiping sweat off my forehead. It was warm as a muthafucka in that storage room.

“Chill out Phat Kat. You know I could never stand that fake ass white tramp. You can use the apartment, just don’t kill her ass up there.”

“When I get this cash back I’ma hit yo hand,” I said, fanning myself.

“You better. This is a legit place of business, bitch. This ain’t no hostage safe house.”

I was already parked across the street from Kim K.’s mom’s crib when the disloyal white tramp parked a pearl white five series BMW. The whip she always said she would have, no matter how many dicks she had to suck. I watched, sunk down in the front seat, with the nine milli resting on the console next to me. I’d been prepared for the bitch’s arrival since Adrienne sent me a text to let me know Ivan was on his way to pick her up. My blood began to boil as I watched her punk ass swag into her mom’s front door in a white cat suit, matching stilettos, while swinging a brand new Gucci bag. Ivan had obviously taken the bitch shopping. They were having fun spending the money I had to suck two big ole ugly country niggas off to get.

I clenched my teeth doing my muthafuckin best to control my rage. I was tempted to run up to the front door, kick it in and drag the bitch out by that long black ponytail. But I knew that wouldn’t be a smart move. There were too many eyes in the Cudahy neighborhood.

A bitch had to be careful in the poor south suburb of Milwaukee County, full of working class whites, who were suspicious of everybody who didn’t look like them. I had the Charger parked in the opposite direction of that dirty white bitch’s Beemer.
I can’t believe he bought this bitch a BMW with my muthafuckin money! I hope it’s big enough to carry your casket in.
I watched that white backstabbing tramp from behind the freshly tinted windows go inside her mom’s crib, trying to decide exactly how I was going to play this.

If she came back out while the sun was still up, I was just going to have to follow her and kidnap her ass whenever the opportunity presented itself. If the bitch came strutting her triflin ass out of that little matchbox size crib when the moon was in the sky, it was going down right there. The anticipation is what damn near killed me as each minute slowly crept by. The anxiety I felt had me gritting my teeth and fanning my legs. If I had a dick, the muthafucka would’ve been harder than a steel rod.

Instead my pussy was wet as I fantasized about how it would feel to finally get my hands on this bitch. And when she came out of the crib, swinging that big ass of hers along with her Gucci bag, I almost jumped through the roof of the Charger. It wasn’t even six yet, there was still plenty of daylight left. My heart was pumping hard as I searched for any potential witnesses. Nobody was out on the block but there were a few cribs with their screen doors open. Every now and then some kind of car would cruise past.

What I was thinking was riskier than a muthafucka. But I didn’t want to wait any longer. This bitch actually had the nerve to slap me, not once but twice, down in Vegas. Kim K., my so-called best friend, left me for dead before running off with my nigga and cash. Her long jet black ponytail swung as she sashayed around to the driver’s side. I shot out of the Charger the moment she had her back to me. I had my strap stuffed inside my Pelle varsity jacket pocket and jammed into her gut. When she whipped around, the bitch only gave me the pleasure of seeing how shocked she was for a split second. Then her lids lowered a little as she stared with as much murder in her eyes as I had in mine.

“You either come with me or you die where you standin’, ho.” She looked for help in both directions. “Bitch, I’m not fucked up about killin you in broad daylight or yo funky ass mama in that tiny ass crib.” I was seeing red and hearing strange music in my head as I spoke like Uma Thurman in Kill Bill. I wanted to kill the bitch so bad my hand was trembling.

“Aight Phat Kat. Just leave momma out of this,” she pleaded.

“Fuck yo mama. Move bitch.”

I backed away from her and kicked her in her big ole ass and then pushed her along. I made her climb in the passenger’s seat through the driver’s side before I got in. I took the nine millimeter out of my jacket pocket and aimed at her as I leaned against the door.