The Sweetest Taboo (3 page)

“True story? So a niggah was causin’ it, huh? Bigger than me. He better than me?” Hassan gave Drae a devilish grin.

“He was okay, Hassan.” She moved her hand from side to side.

“You lyin’. So now I know this niggah was killin’ that pussy. You don’t wanna fuck me no more, do you?”

“He was auditioning, Hassan.”

Before Hassan could respond, he let Drae’s neck go, picked up the telephone cord and started whipping her with it. Drae was frozen in shock before she started to try to get away. “Hassan, what the hell are you doing?! Stop it!” She fell to the floor and started crawling toward the bedroom door.

“What the fuck you crawlin’ around for? So he better than me?” The telephone cord sizzled across Drae’s skin. As Hassan whipped it across her back she could feel her skin burst open.

“Get off me!” she screamed, trying to untangle her robe, which was somehow caught between her feet. Hassan took the telephone cord and whipped her again, this time slapping the cord across her thighs. “Get off me! Are you crazy! I’m not doing this shit no more! No fuckin’ more!”

“You’ll do what the fuck I say do!”

Drae pulled the extension cord running from the lamp, causing it to fall from the cherry nightstand to the floor. All but the burning bulb exploded. Drae grabbed the gold rod running through the lamp, stood, and pointed the naked bulb at Hassan. “I swear on my mother’s grave that if you hit me again I’ma burn and bury yo’ fuckin’ ass!”

“Real talk?” Hassan walked closer to Drae and she swung the lamp, the hot bulb scorching a small portion of the skin on his chest. “You burned me, bitch?” Although Drae had the lamp in her hand Hassan slapped her so hard that it caused her to do a spin and fall to the floor. Instead of lying still Drae quickly crawled toward the door again. As she reached the doorway she felt Hassan grab her ankles, pulling her back into the room. Her hair flopped wildly while sweat caused some of it to plaster across her forehead. “Where the fuck you going?!” Hassan demanded to know. “I’ma beat yo’ ass like never before! You lettin’ this niggah fuck you better than me?!” Hassan lifted Drae from the floor and shoved his face into hers. “Look at me, bitch! And you do this to somebody who made you? Without me you ain’t shit!”

“Hassan, please!”

“Don’t ‘Hassan, please’ me. Say it. Say, ‘Hassan, I ain’t shit without you!’ And say you’re sorry while you at it. Sorry for fuckin’ this niggah better than me! I hate that I sent yo’ fuckin’ ass to school; now you think you too good for this shit. You think ’cause you workin’ in a school that you don’t need a niggah no more. When I met you, you barely had a few measly-ass college credits and then here comes Hassan, Captain Save a Ho. You wanna go to college, Drae? Yes? You love me, Drae? Yes—”

“I do love you, Hassan.”

“You more than love me, bitch, you owe me!”

“Don’t call me a bitch anymore!”

“What you prefer, whore?!”

Drae swallowed. “What you want from me, Hassan?”

“I want you to apologize!”

“For what?” she cried.

“For sayin’ that niggah’s dick was bigger than mine.”

“Then you need to stop bringing people into our bedroom!”

“Oh, now,” Hassan said in disbelief, “you gon’ leave me for this niggah?”

“What are you talking about? I would never leave you! But you my fuckin’ man, not my father. Why you doing this? Naz is an actor; he’s off auditioning for the next role, and you here beating on me. How that shit sound?”

Hassan had Drae by the back of her neck and let her go. He stood quietly, watching her on the floor and thinking about what she’d just said to him. He looked around the room and saw the mess that they’d made. For a moment he thought it would be so much easier if she simply let him kick her ass and get it over with, but he knew she would never be that submissive.

Drae hated that Hassan loving her like this turned her on. She wished he had a better way to show how much he cared. Besides, where was she going? He was her dude, her dime piece, and she wasn’t trading him in for shit. She just wished he would stop bringing his actors’ dicks into their bedroom, and let her just settle with his again. She could accept the mountain of toys that he liked for her to play with; the only thing that turned her off was the loaded dildo he liked for her to strap on and stick in his ass. Other than that, she could deal with the balls, the beads and the bullets.

“Yo.” She rose from the floor. “You be spazzin’ too much. And another thing, you got to stop getting high. This is too damn much.” She studied the welts popping up on her skin. She could see Hassan’s apology in his eyes, but she wanted to run up and slap the shit out of him. “That was it for the auditions.”

“Naw, baby.” Hassan attempted to calm her down. “It’s not the auditions; it’s me. I know I started buggin’, but I promise I won’t do it anymore. Ever. But we can’t stop.”

“Why not?” Drae snapped, as Hassan started kissing the bruises he’d put on her body.

“Because.” He kissed her and fondled her breast. “It’s how I make my dough. Besides, I love to watch another niggah pounding that pussy and the way you scream when you cummin’ it drives me crazy.”

“No, it sends you crazy.”

He pulled her onto the bed. “Naw, I’m good. I won’t spaz no more.”

“You promise?” She rolled on top of him, his hard dick poking her clit.

“I promise, Drae.” He caressed her waist. “Before I tear this pussy up, can I get some asshole?”

“Hassan…” she whined. She had really been looking forward to riding his dick. “Let me just ride it.”

“Please, baby. You know I love that shit.”

“All right.” Drae took a deep breath and turned around. She held her ass in the air, giving full access to the baby pink inside her asshole. Hassan took his tongue and licked her ass.

“This all me?” he asked as he lubricated her anus with tongue.

“Yes.” She suppressed a scream as he pushed his dick in.

“That niggah fucked you better than me?”

“Never, baby,” she said flexing her ass muscles. “Can’t nobody get with you.”

“Say word?”

“Word.” She turned her head to the side and smiled.

“You gon’ leave me, Drae?”

“Never. Ever. Nothing and no one could ever make me leave you.”

“That niggah dick really bigger than mine?”

“Baby.”

“Yeah.”

“Stop sweatin’ that shit.”

Yuri

         They’d made plans to meet at IHOP in Brooklyn for brunch. It had been a few months since Yuri, Drae and Nae-Nae had gotten together. Although Yuri and Drae were cousins, they’d been best friends since Nae-Nae was “Nathan,” Yuri was the fattest one in the class and Drae was a virgin.

They’d crossed their hearts and hoped to die at least a million times before they said they’d ever stop talking or telling one another everything. And they held true to their promise at first; so the lying didn’t start out intentionally, life and bullshit just sort of took them there. But when the lying got to be too much, they just stopped talking. When they did speak again, it was only to make the others feel guilty about neglecting their friendship.

The most honest one was Nae-Nae, who didn’t give a damn what anyone thought, because he didn’t judge and he didn’t want anyone judging what he did in his life. He was strictly dickly, wanted to rock patent-leather catsuits four days out the week, and wanted to spend time promoting his fashion line, Fierce, made especially for drag queens. That’s how he met his boo, Raphael. Raphael was a part-time model, and full-time drag queen. He did shows all over New York, Vegas and San Francisco, and he loved him some Nae-Nae, especially since he and Nae-Nae both thought Nae-Nae was a homo thug. Needless to say it was a perfect combination.

About a month after Nae-Nae and Raphael became a couple, Raphael met Drae and Yuri. They all clicked instantly and Raphael became an extension of their clique.

Nae-Nae was the noncompetitive one between Yuri and Drae. He was also the one they never
really
lied to. Not that they told him everything, but he knew things about them that they would never breathe to another living soul. There were many nights they cried on his shoulder about shit in their lives. Drae told Nae-Nae about Lee-Lee Lickme, she just didn’t tell him why she did it; and Yuri admitted to him about Britt. She just didn’t tell him she’d become over the top with it.

As soon as Nae-Nae and Yuri walked into IHOP, Drae spotted them. “Look at you, bitch,” Drae said as Yuri walked over to the booth where Drae was sitting. Yuri was wearing a pair of tight jeans and a fitted, tangerine hooded sweater. “You look fantastic!” Drae carried on.

“And you know this.” Yuri smiled. “But look at you. What the hell you doing to be glowing? What’s the secret?”

“Good dick.”

Damn,
Yuri thought. “Girl, don’t I know.” She smiled.

“So wassup with you, Nae-Nae?” Drae asked, as they kissed each other on the cheek.

“What, I don’t look good, bitch?” Nae-Nae spat, sliding in the booth next to Yuri. “I see you all over this heifer ’cause she done lost a few pounds—”

“Seventy pounds,” Yuri interrupted. “Seventy.”

“Whew-whew,” Nae-Nae snapped sarcastically. “Ring the alarm.”

“Oh, you are such a hater.”

“I don’t hate, I state. Thank you. I’m tellin’ you ya’ll got this homo thug fucked up.”

“I ain’t never seen a homo thug rock a patent-leather catsuit.” Drae laughed.

“I ain’t never seen pussies in my motherfuckin’ business much as you. Back the fuck off me now. Been done stabbed you.”

“Ill.” Drae frowned as the waiter handed them their menus. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Girl”—Nae-Nae wiped invisible sweat off his brow—“a bitch’s ass is sore.”

“’Scuse me,” the waiter said, but no one seemed to be paying him any attention.

“Shut up, Nae-Nae.” Yuri shook her head in disgust. “Please, I do not wanna hear about your ass.”

“’Scuse me.” The waiter tapped on the table, but still no response.

“Girl, I know what I meant to tell you,” Drae said, excited.

“What?”

“Guess who’s back in New York? Troi,” she said answering her own question.

Without warning Yuri’s heart dropped to the bottom of her feet and her mouth fell open.

The waiter cleared his throat.

“Britt’s ex-fiancée?” Nae-Nae said as he lifted Yuri’s bottom lip. “When that bitch come back around?”

“’Scuse me?” The waiter pounded on the table, rattling the silverwear. “A ma’fuckin’ ’scuse me!”

Immediately their conversation came to a halt and they all turned around.

“You know how long I been standin’ here?!” the waiter yelled.

They each blinked their eyes at least a million times, especially since they just realized their waiter stood no more than three-and-a-half feet tall. His chest was puffed out and he was tapping his feet. He wore a white apron and underneath was a black ninja suit with a million zippers all over it, and instead of a hairnet he had a red tam cocked to the side.

“Shit! Can y’all shut the fuck up for a minute?” the waiter went on. “Yap-yap”—he clucked his arms like a chicken—“yap-yap-fuckin’ yap. Big-ass mouths, that’s what’s wrong wit’ niggahs now. They talk too much. Shut the fuck up sometime. What, y’all ain’t never been to a restaurant befo’? Er’body know when I hand you the menu I’m ’spose to find out if you want somethin’ to drink. Now, what the fuck is you drinkin’? Let’s start with yo’ big ass.” He pointed to Yuri. “You look like you stay thirsty.”

“What kinda shit?” Yuri said in disbelief. “Is this niggah a mad-ass guardian angel?”

“’Scuse you ’scuse you…ah’scuse you. But you got somethin’ to say to Squeak?” The waiter sucked his teeth and tapped his pen on his order pad.

“Who the fuck is Squeak?” Nae-Nae said, doing his best not to laugh. “You tryna flex on us, Squeak?”

“I don’t go that way pot’nah and I’m tired of motherfuckers thinkin’ I do.”

“What?” Nae-Nae said in disbelief. “Squeak, wouldn’t no fag want you. What they gon’ do wit’ yo’ lil’ ass!”

“You know I been in jail before.”

“Whew,” Yuri said. “I’m scared.”

“And?” Nae-Nae spat. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You asked me what a fag can do with my ass.”

“Stop the visual please,” Drae said, “and call the manager.”

“Snitches get stitches.” Squeak pounded his fist.

“You threatenin’ me?” Drae asked in disbelief.

“Not unless you tryna do somethin’.”

“Just call the manager,” Yuri said.

“Fuck the manager,” Nae-Nae spat. “I will beat the breaks off that—”

“Off what?” Squeak said. “In all that hot-ass patent leather what you gon’ do but slide yo’ slippery ass all across this floor. Lookin’ like a big-ass ball of grease. Man, please, don’t fuck with me. My woman left me, my dog done run away, child support lookin’ for me and shit. For real, dawg, you want it wit’ me, I will kick yo’ fuckin’ ass up in this here piece. Why you think they call this IHOP? ’Cause I will hop all over you.” He placed his order pad on the table. “Now say I won’t. Please, say it.” He started skipping in place like a boxer. “I’ll turn this motherfucker out.”

Yuri, Drae and Nae-Nae sat there amazed. They couldn’t figure out what was going on. Before they could call the manager to their table, she was already there. “Sorry y’all. I’m the manager, Freeda…. Whoool.” She looked at Nae-Nae. “You is so sharp.”

“Thank you,” Nae-Nae said, caught off guard, as he realized the manager was puckering her lips and making kisses at him.

“Is you tryna flirt, Freeda?” Squeak asked.

She winked her eye. “It’s…all…good.”

“Freeda,” Squeak said, “stop being a dumb dumb! Stevie Wonder can see that Super Freak ain’t interested in nothing but dick and ass.”

“Super Freak?!” Nae-Nae mumbled in disbelief.

“Y’all got to excuse him,” Freeda said. “He on work release.” She turned to Squeak. “Keep it up and you gon’ be right back on the sidewalk sweepin’ up shit.”

“But they fuckin’ wit’ me, Freeda.”

She looked at Yuri, Nae-Nae and Drae. “Sorry again, y’all, but I’ma talk to him. Here, I’m gon’ call our best waitress over here…. Rafiquana!” she yelled. “Tamika-Shontell over here, and she gon’ take your order.”

“I’m tired of taking his customers, Freeda. He need to learn how to act.” The new waitress walked over to their table. “Hur’ up, what y’all want.”

“Well, damn, should we eat here?” Drae asked.

The waitress sucked her teeth. “My bad. Y’all know what y’all wanna eat?” The new waitress wasn’t the best, but she would do; besides, they were hungry. They each ordered a smorgasbord of meals so they could share their plates. Thankfully, the food arrived right away.

“So what?” Yuri asked nonchalantly, stuffing a piece of Drae’s bacon into her mouth. “Did Troi call you?”

“No. I saw her at Negril, when Hassan and I went out the other night.”

“She was by herself?”

“No. She was there with Britt.”

“What?” Yuri did her best to control her attitude, but she felt like screaming.

“They were having dinner and I don’t
really
know, but they seemed kinda cool. Don’t you still talk to Britt? Didn’t he tell you?”

“No,” Yuri said, doing her all to look indifferent. “He didn’t tell me anything.”

“Well, why you look like that? And why you sound like that?” Drae looked at Nae-Nae; she knew if anybody knew, he did. “Yuri, you not feelin’ some kinda way, are you? You not still feelin’ this niggah, after all these years?”

“Girl, please.” Yuri swallowed deeply and did her best to play off her feelings of being betrayed—and fuck all that she was married and knew what she was getting into—she’d loved Britt too many years to be going through this. And his being with Troi was worse than anything she’d ever felt, especially since there was nothing, at this moment, she could do about it but smile.

“For real, though,” Britt had said to Yuri almost fifteen years ago. “She straight played me.” He sniffed, doing his best to control his emotions, “Yo, am I stupid, or what? I had this ring and shit!” He threw it across her bedroom. “She was ’spose to marry me, and what did she tell me? She told me this niggah had a better job, that I was hung up on too many goddamn dreams!” Tears streamed from his eyes.

“Don’t cry, Britt.” Yuri said, unsure of what else to say. “There’s nothing wrong with dreaming….” She stood, nervously twisting the doorknob. Her short, peach cotton nightgown came midway down her thighs and the four buttons running down her cleavage were open.

“Yo.” He tried to laugh, wiping his face. “I’m buggin’, right?” He looked Yuri up and down, noticing her hard nipples.

“No, you’re hurt.”

“Fuck her ass. Sorry to bother you, I see you about to go to bed, let me roll.”

“You can chill here…for a little while…if you want.” She took her hand off the knob.

Hours later, Yuri awoke with the early-morning sun slipping into her room and Britt lying next to her in bed; his face resting in the crook of her arm, his mouth face-to-face with her nipple, and her right thigh thrown over his waist. She couldn’t believe that fate had given her the opportunity to be this close to the man she’d loved all this time. For once she didn’t have to pretend she was Troi. She didn’t have to shut her eyes and have her pussy ache while she slid her fingers in and pretended that her tips were his dick.

“Britt…” She stroked his dreads and in between her words kissed his forehead. “Maybe…you should…wake up.”

Britt could feel Yuri’s soft lips and wet kisses. He didn’t want them to stop; his heart needed soothing and being that he knew she was always open for him, he figured this was something they could do for each other. So instead of backing away he moved in closer and slipped his tongue into her mouth.

“What are we doing?” Yuri asked.

“You tell me,” he said, running his tongue over her cleavage and kissing her breast through her gown. “You want me to stop?” he asked while kissing her stomach and working his way between her thighs.

“No, as long as you don’t pretend I’m Troi.”

“Yuri”—he looked up into her face—“I know exactly who you are.” Britt pulled her panties off, causing Yuri to bite hard on her inner cheek. She couldn’t think of how to respond fast enough, especially when he placed his tongue on her clit. This was ecstasy like she never imagined. Now she knew for sure Troi had gone mad. Slowly Britt sucked Yuri’s pussy, her creamy jewel rising and falling in his mouth. After Britt was sure he’d pleased her more than twice, he started to work his dick in.

Yuri imagined her first time would be magical and she would hear the birds sing and see sparks fly through the air. Yet all she saw were silver stars as she squinted her eyes tight and winced from the pain shooting through her vagina.