It's Like Candy (25 page)

Eric began fucking River rapidly. River let out a passionate cry as tears trickled down her face, loving every moment of being in the missionary position.

He grunted, squeezing her thigh and her hand simultaneously as he quivered between her legs, exploding into her. He continued to pant while their juices mixed into each other. He loved the touch of her soft smooth skin against his, and lingered on top of her, kissing her, touching her, fondling her plump breasts.

“Shit!” he muttered contentedly, rolling off her and lying on his back, peering up at the ceiling.

“Was it good?” River asked, nestling against him for comfort.

“Fuck, yeah,” he answered, breathless.

River smiled.

“On the real, I'm glad you came back. You did save my life,” he
mentioned, stroking her soft black hair with her face pressed against his chest.

“They're gonna come for you . . . for us,” River told him.

“Who?”

“Big Red and Twinkie. He gets jealous, and he has a very violent temper,” River said, peering at Eric. “He loves me.”

“You love him?” Eric asked, fearing she might say yes.

“No, I never loved him; it was just business with us. But he thinks I owe him sumthin. He wants so much more from me. He hates the fact that I'm really attracted to you. And if he finds out that I'm with you, he'll kill you and me.”

“I ain't worried about that fat fuck. Let him come,” Eric stated.

“But you don't know him, Eric—he's crazy.”

“Listen, you're safe wit' me. I know people, and if he comes, then he's gonna regret ever fuckin' wit' me. I still owe that niggah from the last time. But I want you to stay wit' me. Where's your stuff?”

“At my apartment. But I can't return there. I have dangerous men waiting for me. I think my roommate tried to set me up,” River explained.

“Then first thing tomorrow morning, we go shopping, get you some new clothes and shoes,” Eric said.

“Thank you. I knew you were so different since that night we met at the bar.”

“Yo, I like you, and from now on, you gotta be real wit' me, River. Ayyite? I don't want anymore surprises poppin' up.”

“I have nothing to hide from you anymore,” she confessed.

“First off, is your name really River?”

“Yes. But I'm not really from Baltimore, I was born and raised in Brooklyn.” With that, River continued to confess everything to Eric, even confiding in him about the violent and sexual abuse she'd endlessly endured from her mother when she was young. They shared
stories, and Eric let River know what he was about. He spoke briefly of his cousin Yung Slim, who was now released on parole.

They talked for hours until she fell asleep in his arms, nestled against his chest. As River slept, Eric was feeling somewhat uneasy. He slowly slid himself from underneath her precious comfort, not wanting to wake her, and went into the living room to retrieve his .380. He stalked back into the bedroom naked and hid the gun under his pillow for that just-in-case incident. He stared at River sleeping on his bed. She looked like an angel, lying naked against his satin sheets as if she had falling from heaven itself. He wondered if he could trust her again. Was she worth the risk? But he thought about the superb night they'd just had together, and he felt so connected to her that he forgave her. He wanted River, despite the risk.

“Please let this be real,” he whispered to himself, gazing at River. He then got back into bed with her and softly held her in his arms again, never disturbing her from sleep. He nestled against her womanly figure and knew that loving her wasn't going to come easy.

“Aaaaaahhh, Yeah . . .
fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!” Starr chanted, as she rapidly moved her thick young hips back and forth with eight inches of hard dick deep in her pussy.

She pushed against his broad chest as he gripped her hips and thrust all he had into her. Starr rode him as if she was trying to win a race. Her trick got excited, lifting his back off the mattress, grabbing at her hips tightly, sweating, and feeling himself about to come as Starr tightened her love muscles around his dick, being so wet. But Starr pushed him down on his back and pinned him with her hands against his chest, her legs straddled around him like Vise-Grips.

“Stay down,” she instructed, never missing a beat as she rode that dick.

“Damn, Starr . . . I'm coming. You makin' me come. You got that good pussy. Oooh, you got that pussy. Oooh, you got that good pussy,” he hymned.

Starr rocked back and forth, feeling him about to explode soon. Suddenly the bedroom door opened and Reality walked in, loudly saying to Starr, “Yo, hurry up and make that niggah come. He got four minutes, because Rome wants all of y'all out here in five minutes.”

He walked back out of the bedroom leaving Starr to finish her business.

“C'mon, niggah, come for me,” Starr said, putting more pressure on him by clinching her ass cheeks against him. “You wanna come in me. My pussy's good, right? I'm the best. I'm worth every penny right? “

“Oooh, shit! Hells, yeah. Aaaaaahhh . . . you feel so fuckin' good,” he cried out. “I'm coming!”

Soon afterward he trembled underneath Starr, letting free millions of babies into the condom as he grabbed at her hips, panting and grunting.

“Damn!” he whimpered.

Starr let him savor the moment for a few seconds as she remained on top of him, feeling his dick becoming flaccid inside of her. She then climbed off him, reached for a nearby towel, and wiped in between her legs.

She watched him get up, reach for his jeans, and start to get dressed. He was cute, and had a big dick, and she got hers off right before he got his nut. It was rare that a trick made her come.

Starr put on her panties and jeans and threw on a T-shirt, trying to look somewhat decent for the meeting with Rome. She heard about what happened with Dynasty and Cherry. She overheard the conversation Reality had with one of his men about someone moving in on their turf and demanding 60 percent from all of Rome's workers—it was extortion. Both men were furious, and Dynasty got reprimanded with a few bruises on her face by Reality for being so stupid.

“I'm gonna see you later, Starr,” her client said, giving her a kiss on her cheek and leaving the room, knowing to mind his own business.

“Okay, baby. You gonna see me next week?”

“Of course, you know my wife can't fuck like you,” he proclaimed, smiling.

Moments later, Reality walked into the room shouting at Starr to hurry the fuck up. Starr quickly hurried behind Reality into the living room, where the others ladies were present.

Reality was a menacing-looking man who stood six feet two inches and was as solid as a rock, with long braids and biceps like a heavyweight boxer. He was fierce and spoke with a deep raspy voice that intimidated the ladies and many men.

“Y'all bitches shut the fuck up!” he shouted throughout the room.

Knowing not to make him repeat himself, the room got quiet, and Rome suddenly appeared in the room. He was shirtless, and a thick platinum chain hung around his neck. Both men stood in the center of the room and looked as though they were not to be fucked with.

Starr kept her distance, being seated between Chyna and Tara, two hoes that were down for anything, even murder if tempted. Starr gazed at Dynasty, who stood behind Rome. Her eye was swollen and her face bruised. She looked a hot mess.

“Yo, first off, don't end up like this stupid bitch here, giving away my money to some niggah like he takes care of her,” Rome proclaimed, pointing to Dynasty, who stood still and quiet behind Rome. She looked embarrassed, her eyes glued to the floor.

Rome violently grabbed Dynasty by her hair and yanked her forward as though she was some kind of mule. As he held Dynasty strongly with his fist gripped around her hair, he glared at his hoes, and continued with, “Any one of y'all bitches give away sixty percent of my money, or anything else that belongs to me, and I'll kill you.”

Everyone in the room knew he meant business.

“And second, I'm giving each of y'all bitches Nextel phones. If you got a problem while out on the track, or you see something that ain't right, you get on the horn and hit up Reality. He's gonna be around tonight, making sure everything goes smooth,” Rome exclaimed.

“Y'all bitches need not to worry about this bitch-ass niggah named Yung Slim! If y'all lose out on makin' my muthafuckin'
money again tonight, there will be hell to pay. Y'all bitches hear me?” he shouted.

“Yes, Daddy,” they all shouted in unison.

“I got soldiers for that niggah who got at Dynasty. I'm the fuckin' king, right, Dynasty?” Rome scolded, still gripping Dynasty tightly by her hair with her head lowered to him.

“Yes, Daddy,” Dynasty meekly replied.

“You're my bottom bitch, and I expect you to act like it tonight. You fuckin' hear me?!”

“Yes, Daddy. I won't fuck up again,” she responded.

Reality stayed in the background and smiled, watching his boy Rome humiliating Dynasty in front of her peers.

“You know what, Dynasty, get on your fuckin' knees and kiss your daddy,” Rome ordered.

He pushed Dynasty down on the floor and unzipped his jeans. Dynasty moved toward him on her knees, reached into his pants and pulled out his monstrous dick. Rome was well-endowed, eleven inches and better. Dynasty gripped his huge dick in her fist and began stroking him gently.

“I said kiss it, not play wit', you dumb bitch,” Rome scolded.

Dynasty leaned forward and took him into her mouth, sucking him like a lollipop. Rome grabbed the back of her head and pushed more of his big dick down her throat, causing her to choke on it. Dynasty gagged, but Rome showed no mercy.

“You know how to deep-throat, bitch, teach these hoes how to please a man,” Rome said.

Dynasty was able to shove nine inches down her throat, trying to handle the dick like a porn star. As Dynasty sucked Rome off, he continued to lecture his hoes. “As I was sayin' . . .” He let out a slight moan. “There you go, Dynasty, make your daddy proud. Y'all bitches better come fuckin' correct tonight with all my fuckin' money. You got problems, you don't hesitate to get on that fuckin' horn and hit up Reality. He's gonna take care of your problems.”
Rome let out a satisfied moan as Dynasty took in all of him and licked his nuts. She wanted to make her daddy happy and have him forgive her for being so stupid, so she went all out.

Dynasty sucked Rome's dick as if they were alone, despite the seven hoes that watched her. Rome grabbed a handful of her hair and gazed at everyone in the room. Dynasty's head rapidly bobbed back and forth, stroking and sucking Rome simultaneously.

“Reality,” Rome said, turning to face his right-hand man. “Any problems tonight, you know how to take care of it.”

Reality nodded, knowing what Rome meant.

Rome then looked down at Dynasty, and said, “Don't fuck up again tonight.”

Dynasty pulled his dick from her mouth, with it still gripped in her fist, and replied, “Daddy, I got you. I'm gonna make you proud of me tonight.”

“Y'all bitches get dressed,” Rome instructed.

Dynasty started to get off her knees until she heard Rome shout, “Bitch, did I tell you to stop suckin' my dick? Fuckin' finish what you started.”

Dynasty obeyed orders and shoved his huge erection in her mouth, trying to make her man come. Rome moaned, loving how his bottom bitch sucked his dick. It was one reason why she was his bottom bitch; her head game was a 100 percent on point. Dynasty continued to suck Rome off until he burst into her mouth, making her swallow his kids. Afterward he looked down at Dynasty, and said, “Now you can get up and get dressed.”

 

It was ten after midnight
and the track on Rockaway Boulevard was busy with prostitutes from Rome's camp. He had five workers over by Rockaway Boulevard and the Conduit, and another three of his ladies were working South Road, and 150th Street.

Starr strutted down Rockaway Boulevard in a white drop-waist skirt, her long legs gleaming with baby oil in a pair of clear stilettos,
and a tight pink T-shirt that accentuated her breasts and slim waistline. Starr was one of Rome's best bitches. He recruited her when she was only fifteen, which was a year ago. Starr was alone, dining in a Burger King on Jamaica Avenue, when Rome approached her with his thuggish attitude and good looks. He spotted Starr as potential when he first walked into the fast-food restaurant. Rome paid for her meal, talked to her for an hour, and took her back to his truck, where he fucked her and gave her two hundred dollars. He promised to take care of Starr if she took care of him, and from there on, she was in his pocket.

Starr waved down a few passing cars driving down 136th Avenue but to no avail. They honked their horns, looked on in amazement, and kept it moving.

Reality patrolled the track in a black Escalade, rolling on twenty-inch rims. He had Butter and Jay in the truck with him. Under Reality's seat was a loaded .50-caliber Desert Eagle, and in the backseat Butter gripped an Uzi and Jay carried a .45. They were armed and ready for anything. They watched all the girls like hawks and kept an eye out for anything unusual.

Starr stalked across Rockaway Boulevard, hoping to do better on 137th Avenue near the Howard Johnson. Her money had been slow in the past hour, but she knew things usually picked up around one in the morning—the later the better. She carried her Nextel in her hand and was very wary as she made her money, making sure that what happened to Dynasty didn't happen to her. As she stood on the corner of Rockaway Boulevard and 137th Avenue, a green Cherokee pulled up beside her and rolled down his window.

Starr peered into the jeep and saw a Hispanic male gazing back at her.

“How much?” he shouted out.