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Authors: Erick S. Gray

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BOOK: It's Like Candy
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Some of Eric's friends would have loved to find out how good that pussy was, but Sparkle didn't fuck, no matter how much cash they threw at her. It wasn't happening.

The episode with Rah, Bambi, and Hershey got even crazier as
Bambi straddled Rah's waist, and started to ride his long big dick, clutching his chest, and Hershey took her turn in pressing her damp pussy down on Rah's face, straddling his face tightly, as she panted, feeling Rah's tongue swim around in her.

Eric smiled and Sparkle muttered, “Them some nasty bitches.”

Suddenly Eric's cell phone started vibrating against his hip. He quickly reached for it, flipped open the case and saw that it was his niggah Critter calling.

He answered the call, but had to step outside to hear Critter clearly because the noise and music were deafeningly.

“Critter, what's good?” Eric asked. “I thought you were coming through?”

“Yo, E, I need your help,” Critter said.

“What the fuck you do?” Eric asked, knowing Critter was always into some shit.

“I got this bitch at my place, and she won't leave yo.”

“What? You can't kick the bitch out of your own place?”

“Yo, come talk to her for me. I'm ‘bout ready to smack this hoe, but you know a niggah on probation. And I ain't tryin' to get locked up over this silly bitch.”

Eric sighed and returned with, “Ayyite, Critter, I'll be over there in a minute. Just don't do no stupid shit.”

“Good lookin', E,” Critter said, hanging up.

Eric went back into the party and informed a few of his peoples that he had to leave and handle something. He told Donald to take over and call him if there were any problems. But with Donald, he knew that there wouldn't be any problems.

 

“Fuck you, Critter!
Why you tryin' to fuckin' play me? You stupid, Critter. You stupid!” Starr shouted from the locked bathroom door, gripping the cordless in her hand and threatening to dial 911.

“Starr, why you being a fuckin' bitch? Just open the fuckin' door. I just wanna talk to you,” Critter shouted.

“No. I want my money. I'm gonna call the cops on your stupid ass if you don't give me my money,” Starr shouted back.

“Yo, ain't no need to call police to this, bitch. Bitch, you know I'm on probation.”

“Exactly!”

Critter sighed. At that point, he wanted to kick the bathroom door down and strangle Starr. “Yo, Starr, all I got on me is twenty dollars.”

“Then we got a problem, Critter. I want all of my fuckin' money. Don't be tryin' to fuckin' play me, niggah! What I look like to you?!”

Critter wanted to answer cleverly and sarcastically, but he knew it wouldn't be wise. He heard the doorbell, and walked to the front door, peeped outside, and saw Eric. He sighed in relief and quickly opened the door.

“E, thanks for coming.”

“What shit you got into now?” Eric asked, cutting him off.

“Yo, I got this bitch who locked herself in my bathroom, and she ain't tryin' to leave, E. This hoe tryin' to extort a niggah,” Critter explained.

“Extort?”

“Yeah, the bitch talkin' about she want money from me and shit.” Eric laughed. “Damn, Critter.”

“I know, man,” Critter responded.

Critter was blacker than Wesley Snipes and Whoopi put together, looking like a moonless night. He was about five feet eleven, and was slim, weighing no more than a wet dog. Critter had a bad history with women. He was sex-starved, the kind who'd stick his dick into anything with a pulse and a phat ass. Critter had no taste and no class, he was just searching for pussy continually, and thinking with his dick. Bitches always got Critter into trouble. He had four kids, and his baby-mamas—none of them were pretty but their bodies were tight.

Critter was always telling Eric, whenever E joked about the women he fucked with, “Pussy ain't got no face.”

To Critter, pussy was all the same to him, no matter the shape.
look, or size of a woman. And Eric knew that no matter what, Critter was always gonna be Critter. They had grown up together and Eric was always looking out for Critter.

Eric followed Critter to the back bedroom, and he saw clothes sprawled out all over the place, food was spilled across the floor, empty condom wrappers lying around, and the room stank of a strange odor.

“Damn, Critter,” Eric said, screwing up his face from the smell.

“Yeah, niggah . . . I know. I was gonna clean up, but you know, things kinda got out of hand.”

“Who that in there wit' you, Critter?” Starr shouted from the bathroom.

“Come out and see,” Critter shouted back.

“I know you ain't bring niggahs in here to jump me. You know I still got the phone up in here wit' me. And I'll call the cops on your sorry ass,” Starr threatened again.

“Fuck you, Starr! I'm tired of your shit!” Critter cursed, getting irate.

“Critter, calm down,” Eric said. “Let me handle this.”

Eric approached the door and knocked on it gently.

“What the fuck you want?” Starr said heatedly.

“Yo, luv . . . I'm just here to talk,” Eric casually explained.

“So talk that dumb-ass niggah into giving me my fuckin' money,” she barked.

“How much does he owe you?”

“A hundred.”

“Damn.”

“Your boy, Critter, he a cheap-ass bastard. Fuck him!”

Eric smiled, glancing over at Critter, who stood a few feet away looking pathetic clad in blue-and-white boxer shorts and a wifebeater.

“Yo, luv . . . you sound young. How old are you?” Eric asked.

“Sixteen.”

“What?” Eric was shocked.

“Yeah, niggah, I'm sixteen. And if I call the cops on this phone, and tell ‘em how Critter was up in his apartment fuckin' a minor, that niggah goin' to jail. So he better give me my fuckin' money. I ain't play in' wit that niggah no more.”

“Sixteen!” Eric mouthed over to Critter, who shrugged his shoulders. Eric was appalled. Critter was a grown man, damn near thirty in three years and he had a sixteen-year-old girl in his apartment. Eric wanted to beat the shit out of Critter himself.

“Ayyite, luv . . . Critter's wrong for that, but there ain't no need in involving the police,” Eric told her.

“Yeah there is, if he don't pay me my money.”

“Why do he owe you a hundred dollars in the first place?”

“Because it's what I charge,” she stated.

Eric tittered. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Critter was paying a minor to have sex with him.
This niggah is losing his fuckin mind,
Eric thought. All that pussy he had down at Rah's bachelor party, and Critter was up here fuckin' minors and getting caught up in stupid situations. Eric wanted to bounce and let Critter handle his own problems, but that was his boy, and he couldn't leave him hanging out to dry like this.

Eric knew Critter was broke. But if Critter thought that he was going to fuck Starr and get his nut off, and then easily swindle shorty out of the money he owed her, then he was wrong. Starr was up on her game, and she knew how to use her age to extort men. If they didn't pay, then she called the police, and they went to jail. She'd gotten away with this hustle many times, especially with horny older men, and then afterward Starr would beat them over the head for an outrageous price sometimes, depending on the individual. Once she conned a police captain for a thousand dollars. She had him by the balls and he willingly paid. He could have fought it, but he knew the exposure of his having sex with a sixteen-year-old girl would not have been good for his reputation.

Eric looked over at Critter in disappointment and he knew that
there was only one way to handle this situation. “Ayyite, luv, what's your name?”

“Starr.”

“Ayyite, Starr, listen. I'll pay you the hundred. You good wit' that?”

“As long as I get paid, I'm good.”

“Okay.”

“First slip the money under the door,” Starr demanded. “I want the money in my hands first, and then I open this door.”

Eric shook his head. Shorty was definitely on point. He had to respect her game. Eric reluctantly went into his pocket, pulled out his bankroll, peeled off a crisp hundred-dollar bill, and slid it under the bathroom door as told.

Starr quickly yanked the money free from his hand. A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened, and Eric stepped back, waiting to see this Starr who had a serious attitude and knew how to hustle a niggah.

Into Eric's view came a cute, brown-skinned, thick, curvy young girl who was clad only in her panties and bra, and sported braids that went straight back. Her tits filled the bra completely and her young thighs were tight and firm.

“Damn, you only sixteen?” Eric said, surprised by Starr's physical appearance.

“She's a conniving bitch, that's what she is!” Critter spat.

“Fuck you, niggah!” Starr said.

“Yo, chill, Critter,” Eric said.

“Niggahs be tryin' to play me like I'm stupid,” Starr proclaimed, staring over at Critter with an annoyed look plastered across her cute face.

“Yeah, whatever . . . go ahead wit' that shit. You still a bitch!” Critter countered.

“Niggah, it ain't never too late to get back on that phone and call police,” Starr threatened.

“Nah. Ain't no need for that, Starr. Critter's gonna start behaving himself, right, Critter?”

Critter sighed, staring over at Eric. “Yeah, whatever!” He waved him off.

“Starr, get dressed. You got your money,” Eric said. “So, we good?”

“Yeah, we good,” Starr answered, pulling up her tight jeans against her skin. “Last time I do business wit' a cheap niggah like Critter.”

“Bitch, I ain't cheap!” Critter said, “you just ain't worth the hundred.”

“Niggah, whatever. You saw all this and had to be all up in it. Do me a favor, Critter. Next time your ugly ass see me, keep your fuckin' mouth shut and keep fuckin' walking. I ain't tryin' to deal wit' your ugly ass!”

“Bitch, who you callin' ugly?” Critter snapped.

“I call it like I see it,” Starr quipped back.

“Children, children,” Eric said, “let's be adults in this room, or try, at least.”

“Umm, only adult I see in this room is you,” Starr said, looking at Eric.

Starr continued to get dressed. She was scantily clad in tight jeans, a close-fitting white T-shirt that accentuated her big breasts, and adorned stilettos, looking like a prostitute from the track. She then stuffed the hundred-dollar bill down her pocket, collected the rest of her things, and walked out the door.

Eric couldn't help but admire her assets from behind. For a young girl, Starr had a body, and she looked older than sixteen. But once she opened her mouth, that young age came out, and he wondered how Critter got involved in that.

When Starr was gone, Eric turned to Critter, and said, “Sixteen, Critter. Damn, pussy that hard to get?”

“Yo, my bad, E . . . but that bitch got a body for days, you know what I'm say in'? I just got caught up.”

“Niggah, you always gettin' caught up when it comes to your dick. Yo, you owe me a hundred.”

“I know, good lookin' out, E. You know I got you when I get paid again.”

“Niggah, you better,” Eric said. “Shit, I got all this pussy down at Rah's bachelor party and you out here tryin' to fuck young girls, Critter. What the fuck is wrong wit' you?”

Critter snickered. “Man, them stuck-up strippers. Shit, they be tryin' to beat a niggah in the head wit' them prices. I ain't got it like that.”

“So you're tryin' to swindle sixteen-year-old girls now. That's how it is, now, Critter? You promising them money that you ain't got?”

“Yo, I'm just tryin' to do me, that's all. A niggah tryin' to live.”

“Whatever, niggah. C'mon, I'm heading back down to Rah's party. You coming. I see I can't leave you here by yourself. You don't know how to act,” Eric said.

“Yeah, let me change first.”

“Put on sumthin' nice, Critter. I don't want you scaring off the ladies wit' your stankin' ass.”

“Ha, ha, you funny, niggah.”

3

Starr stood on the corner
of South Road and 150th Street hoping to make herself some quick cash by doing what she knew best, selling pussy. It was twenty minutes past midnight, and she stood on the track dressed in tight blue jeans that highlighted her thick young hips, stilettos that gave her a three-inch boost, and a denim jacket, with nothing underneath but a bra. She teased drivers as they drove by, waving them down and flashing open her jacket so they got a quick glance of her scantily covered breasts.

Men couldn't believe that such a raving young beauty was turning tricks. She made dozens of cars slow down and some came to a stop, asking, “Yo, how much?”

Starr was one of three girls working the track on a warm spring night, and she loved it because it was quiet, and there was no competition. The majority of the girls couldn't compete with Starr. She was young, and drop-dead beautiful, and willing to let anyone fuck her in the ass for the right price. For a sixteen-year-old girl, she had the body of a woman.

She made a quick hundred in a half hour by fucking a fifty-year-old man in the front seat of his car. It was really fast money for her, because she was in and out like lightning. As soon as he parked his
Lincoln in a desolate area so they could have some privacy, Starr got paid first, then quickly unbuckled his khakis, jerked him off for a few minutes to get him hard, and then put a condom on his small erection. She got out of her jeans, showing her eager male trick that she had no panties on, and slowly straddled him in the front seat. She came down on his dick bit by bit, clamping her love muscles around his erection, and let out a counterfeit moan. She swayed her hips back and forth, causing her trick to grab at her long graceful hair and shout, “I'm coming!”

BOOK: It's Like Candy
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