Crackhead (20 page)

Quita looked on, rubbing her clit. Like Shaunna, she went both ways. She wanted to eat Laci's pussy just as much as Dame did.

As Laci performed the head clinic, Quita lay on her back, slid her face underneath Laci's ass, and began to kiss her other lips. Quita's experienced tongue made Laci push her pussy against Quita's mouth, briefly laying her face on Dame's stomach in enjoyment. This was all new to Laci. The only person who had ever touched her clit until now was herself.

Dame knew what time it was. He reached for the crack pipe and put it into Laci's mouth. Laci took a full-size hit and held it. The mixture of getting eaten out and the inhalation of crack made her pupils disappear in her head. Dame looked into his hidden camera and flexed.

After furnishing Laci with another rush, Dame went around to where Quita was lying and stuck two of his fingers between
her legs, moving them in and out of her. She began to moan, and he swapped his fingers for his penis. Quita's moans weren't just a turn-on for Dame; they aroused Laci as well. She began to lick and suck at Quita's nipples. Laci figured that if she worked shit out with her tongue, then she'd protect her virgin pussy.

The sight of Laci getting into it made Dame wanna pop. Even high as a kite, the lil' bitch was still fine. Dame couldn't help himself from finding out what the little peach tasted like. He turned Laci around and started eating her from the back. She tasted like sun-dried peaches on his tongue. He had to have her.

Dame pulled out of Quita and backed Laci up toward his dick. Laci held back. She knew what was about to go down and the fear of the pain set in. She had never even used a tampon before. She couldn't fathom something as big as Dame's dick running up inside of her. But then she thought about the pain of not being high. Laci knew that she had to go with the lesser of the two evils.

Dame proceeded to put his large penis into Laci's tight little vagina, but it ran into a roadblock. Just when she was about to scream, Quita put the pipe back into her mouth. Laci took a deep pull and exhaled as her eyes welled up with tears. Dame proceeded to enter her all the way. She took it all.

Laci's pussy felt like pure magic to Dame. He had only gotten a couple of good strokes in before he had to pause. She was so warm and tight that he almost squirted prematurely. He stroked her slowly at first, and then he began to beast on her. He expected her to cry out, but she didn't. Laci banged her fists on the floor in both pleasure and pain. She started to beg for more—more of what, her mind couldn't decipher. Quita lay on the floor in front of Laci. She spread her legs and pulled Laci's face toward her pussy. But Laci and Dame were more into each other at this point.
Quita's head was cut short because Dame's dick had Laci concentrating more on throwing her ass back into him than on how her tongue moved.

“Dame,” Quita moaned. “Dame . . .” He plowed on into Laci. “Dame!”

“What, bitch?” he said, not missing a stroke. “Don't you see me working?”

“I know you ain't trippin' off no crackhead pussy. You in love already, nigga, ain't you?” Quita ran her hands all over her naked body. “You know this is the best pussy you ever had.”

“What the fuck is you talkin' 'bout, bitch?” Dame said, holding Laci's hips, attempting to beat her precious goods to death. He pushed her knees to her throat. He needed that shit opened wide so that he could drill all the way up into it.

Dame gave Laci another hit as he continued pounding away at her. She came at the same time the smoke hit her lungs. She had no idea if it was Dame's pipe or the crack pipe that caused the eruption in her body. She didn't care. Dame continued to work her insides. The whole time he just kept thinking about how good she felt. He could feel himself getting ready to cum, so he pulled out and let it go all over her back and butt.

Quita rubbed Dame's cum into Laci's skin like it was lotion and sucked the rest out of him herself. When Dame's dick was clear of sperm, he lit a cigarette. It was only halftime and he was building up for another nut.

“You was lovin' that tight pussy, wasn't you?” Quita asked, shooting Dame an evil look.

“Bitch, pussy is pussy,” Dame said, blowing smoke in her face. “I don't give a damn about that basehead bitch. I just wanted to beat, that's all. What? You jealous?”

“I brought the bitch here. How the fuck am I gon' be jealous?”

During Dame and Quita's back and forth, Laci lay on the floor enjoying her high and the aftereffect of her orgasm.

“Shit, you actin' like you jealous,” he continued.

“Look, I know she look good and it's understandable if you hooked. I kinda think the shit is funny myself. But I'm sure if Dink and them knew how you was actin', they'd be crackin' on you for days. You should've seen yourself.” Quita made faces, mimicking Dame's expressions during the sex.

Laci paid no attention to what was being said. She was in her own world, finishing what was left in the pipe. She could've given two shits about what they were arguing about.

“You forget who the fuck you talkin' to?” The volume of Dame's voice warned Quita that she was about to get her head cut back to the white meat. “Bitch, you got amnesia?”

“N-o-o-o, baby,” Quita said, massaging Dame's abdomen. She then kissed him on his neck to defuse any potential problems. “You know I love you, daddy.”

Laci was sitting on the floor, curled up against the couch. There was a vacant look in her eyes, and her mouth was half open. If it weren't for her chest heaving up and down, she could have been mistaken for dead. Laci was on cloud nine.

Dame looked at his cigarette and glanced at Laci. From the look in his eyes, Quita knew just what time it was. Dame was a cold nigga by nature, and Laci would soon find out what time it was too.

“Laci!” Dame yelled. “Yo, baby girl, you ready for the second half or what?”

Laci kept up the mute act.

Giving Laci the benefit of the doubt, Dame walked over to her and posed the same question. “Hey, girl. I said are you ready for part two?”

There was still no answer from Laci, so Dame pressed his lit cigarette into her bare back. Laci jumped to her feet and tried to reach the burned spot on her back.

“Ouch!” she screamed. “What the fuck you do that for?”

“Your ass is talkin' now, ain't it?” Quita said as she laughed. “You'll be all right. It ain't nothin' a little smoke won't fix, right?”

Dame caressed Laci's breasts, then dropped to his knees and kissed her stomach. He wanted to be a gentleman, but he had to stay strong because Quita had already called him out. If he licked the precious now, there would be nothing that he could say in his defense. The more his tongue circled Laci's belly button, though, the more intense the feeling to lap her juices became.

“Light the shit, Quita,” Dame ordered.

Quita loaded and lit the pipe on Dame's command and gave Laci a hit. As Laci pulled from the pipe, she pushed Dame's head between her legs. Much like the crack had Laci, the pussy had Dame. He let her lead him toward her pussy.

Quita looked at her man being humbled in disbelief. He could kick the shit out of her and call her out of her name, but he wanted to be suave with this bitch. She felt repulsed. Quita ground her teeth as her man pleasured Laci the same way he did her. Laci bucked and whined as Dame ate her out.

Quita was red with anger and stomped out of the living room and into the bathroom. She paced back and forth in complete rage. There was no way that bitch was gonna play her out like that. The plan she and Dame had laid down was going to the left. It was time for Quita to make shit right.

Dame got his second wind and pushed back up inside Laci. He was captivated by her beauty and the facial expressions she made as his dick slid in and out of her. He pumped away like a dog in heat while she threw it back like a vet.

Laci opened her eyes and took a good look at Dame. Here was this supposed-to-be-hard drug dealer, soft as Wonder Bread up in the pussy, whining like a bitch. His funny-looking face, coupled with the drug, made Laci giggle. The giggling soon turned into plain laughter.

Dame was trying to get his second nut off when he realized that Laci was laughing at him. He tried to close his eyes and act like he didn't see it, but he could feel her body shaking. Dame paused and looked at her like she was crazy. She was staring right back at him, laughing her ass off. Then suddenly, she realized that he was on to her.

“I'm sorry, baby,” she said, rubbing her hands across his chest. “I was just thinking that when you make certain faces, you look like Donkey Kong.” She began laughing again.

Dame couldn't believe that another side of him had finally showed itself. It was a side that managed to allow him to please somebody else other than himself. And now here this bitch was laughing at him—a basehead bitch at that. Aiming at Laci's face, Dame drew back and smacked the pipe out of her lips, clear across the room.

Dame began to breathe heavily and then growl. “So you think I'm funny-looking, huh?”

Frightened, Laci quickly pushed herself out from underneath Dame and crawled to the side of the couch for shelter. He grabbed her by her curly ponytail and pulled her back toward him. He forgot all about the camera rolling as he prepared to put Laci's ass to sleep.

Laci observed the fierce look in Dame's eyes. “Quita!” she began yelling. “Quita!”

Dame grabbed her by her chin.

“Get off me,” Laci struggled. “Stop! Quita!”

Through the bathroom door, Quita heard the commotion and ran out to see what was happening. Dame had Laci on the floor, trying to knock her head off. The Lord was on Laci's side, because every time Dame tried to connect, he just missed her as she moved her head from side to side, dodging blows.

“Dame?” Quita shouted. “What the fuck you doin'? Leave her alone!”

On one hand, Quita felt good about the ass-kickin'. She'd rather see Dame bust Laci upside the head than give her head. But on the other hand, she was afraid that Dame was going to kill Laci and that she would somehow be blamed for the dead body. Fearing a bid, Quita jumped on his back and tried to calm him down.

Dame bucked, but Quita held fast. He tried to swat her off, but her grip was too tight. Quita didn't want to get into it with Dame, but she feared the worst. Murder was something she wasn't going to sit back and watch go down. She didn't want any part of that, so she maintained her grasp.

Laci held the side of her head and shot a murderous stare at Dame. In all of her seventeen years, a man had never put his hands on her. Besides how to be a backstabbing bitch, there was one thing she had learned from her girls, and that was that turnabout was fair play. Laci used the commotion of Dame trying to remove Quita from his back to get some get-back. She quickly gathered her clothes and what was left of Dame's drugs and slipped out the door.

Dame was heated that the lil' bitch had gotten away with his shit. Ordinarily, he would have arranged for her to be put six feet under, but with a little editing of the tape, he was going to make her a star.

Y
O, SOMEBODY PAGE
Dink from this number?”

“Nigga, it's Dame,” Dame said from the other end.

“I've been lookin' for you for hours,” Dink immediately dug into Dame.

“So I heard,” Dame said nonchalantly.

“Where the fuck you been?” Dink said with authority.

“Oh, just chillin', nigga,” Dame said, dismissing the tone Dink was using with him. “Me and Smurf been fuckin' with some bitches. And we was watchin' this tape of this lil' freak bitch I recorded a couple weeks ago. Man, come to find out, that bitch was a virgin. I'll let you check it out. My man, Play, from Brooklyn is making mad copies for the black market. No charge, either. He said he recognized the ho, she tried to short him, so he's willin' to do that shit on the house. You know, tapes in the hood make more money than at the box office. Bitches better recognize the next time they drop they drawers.” Dame released an evil laugh. “Yo, but I just dropped that cat, Smurf, off. Speaking of that little
nigga . . . he don't take his strap off for nothin', huh? Homeboy was fuckin' this chick with his gun on. He crazy as hell.”

“Nigga,” Dink snapped, finally able to get a word in edgewise, “I ain't interested in that shit. We need to discuss how the fuck you've been conducting ya business, partner.”

“Fuck is ya problem?” Dame asked, matching his tone. “I told you, I got this over here, man.”

“Yeah, just like you had that Titus thing, too. Dame, miss me with that shit. You fucking up, son.”

“Dink, how you sound?” Dame asked, offended. “You coming at me like I'm one of them okey-doke soldiers.”

“You get what ya hand calls for.”

“You bugging, Dink. I don't even like the way you're coming at me. You ain't got no right—”

“I got every right, cousin,” Dink cut him off. “I was holding sway and put you down, remember?”

“You talking like I ain't bring nothing to the table, son. How many niggas I rocked for the team?”

“It ain't about that,” Dink insisted. “It's about the way you're doing things now. Look, I'm sending some of my people down to help you out. All you gotta do is tell 'em what you need and everything will be cool.”

“I don't need no help, yo. I got my own soldiers. We good.”

“You know what? I'll take care of everything,” Dink declared. “It's my hood. I got it.”

“Why you buggin'?” Dame asked defensively.

“Nah, I ain't buggin',” Dink chuckled. “You don't have to do shit.”

“What you tryin' to say?”

“I ain't
tryin
' to say shit,” Dink said, getting frustrated with
going back and forth with Dame. “What I
am
sayin' is that you don't have to do shit, muthafucka!”