Tales from da Hood (3 page)

“Well, as soon as Nessa gets here, I'm gonna go shopping and get my favorite girl some coffee and danishes,” I say as I peep out the kitchen window.

“Oh, Nessa called. She said she was on her way.” As my mother gives me the message, she never looks up from the newspaper.

“I'll be sitting on the porch waiting on her. Call me if you need me.”

I throw on my socks, grab my Adidas flip-flops, and pull the door closed behind me so the cool air blowing from the fans won't escape. In the pj's we don't have air-conditioning, and you can only get the window kind if someone in your house has a medical problem. Ain't nobody in my house sick, so we just shit outta luck. I sit on the porch, gazing into the hot-ass fog. At only 10:15 it's already
90 degrees. I think about staying in today, but there's money to be made, and I need some coca.

I get up and walk up the block to see who is out hustling this bright early morning. I want to wait on Nessa so we can get our shot on together, but she's taking too damn long. I find La-La in the cut and book some boy from him. La-La's the most committed project hustler I know. He seems to work twenty-four/seven; it's just a matter of time before that nigga becomes a millionaire. He's smart because he saves his money. He is frugal with his spending, still rocking Lee jeans and K-Swiss sneakers, but for real, everybody knows that nigga getting paid. He doesn't buy cars, jewelry, and clothes like most niggas do when they getting paper. Whenever somebody asks what the fuck he doing with his money, the nigga always say, “Saving for a rainy day.”

Well, today it ain't raining. It is sunshine outside like a mutherfucker, and I need to get high real fast. I have a $100-a-day coke habit. La-La usually lets me book when I don't have the funds straight up. I pull out my ace of spade card from my back pocket, he lays some shit out for me, and I get busy. I snort so much that my mutherfucking nose starts bleeding, but it feels good just to get high. My shit starts getting hard; I always get horny when I snort good coke. I can't wait to fuck the shit out of Nessa when she gets home.

I walk back down the block and wait on the front porch. By the time she pulls up, I am so fucking high that I don't even see whose car she gets out of. All I see is the Mickey D's bag she grippin'. Nessa comes running up to me, waving a blue torn-off piece of paper.

“Turk gave me his car phone and pager number; he told me to call him whenever I need to be fucked by a real nigga,” she says while shaking the paper in my face like she's just won a scratch-off ticket from the Virginia Lottery. I smack the bitch's hand away from my grill.

“Bitch, carry yo ass upstairs and take a bath,” I order.

“But Daddy, I already took a shower at the hotel,” Nessa said, standing there looking like she's surprised or offended that she was being ordered to take another one.

“All right then,” she says. “I'll take a birdbath just to ease your mind.” Shittt, Nessa knows I don't like touching her unless she is extra clean. But then again, who am I fooling—just how clean can a trick bitch get?

“I'll be done in a minute, and then I'll tell you all about my night.” I didn't care to hear about her fuck session last night. As long as I had my loot, I didn't give a rat's ass about what happened with her and Turk. My business is to put her ass to work, that's it, that's all, but she always feels obligated to give me blow-by-blow details, especially when it comes to the big-time drug dealer customers like Turk.

Before climbing the stairs, Nessa hands me a thousand dollars. She says Turk paid double for me trusting him enough to put the money in her hand. Trusting my ho and my clients is all part of the game. The way I see it, if you let your ho think she has a little power, then the bitch will stay happy and keep the ends flowing, and if you don't make your clients pay up front, they more than likely will give a fat-ass tip. And if either one of 'em fucks up, then that's when Big Daddy is gonna have to bust a cap in somebody's ass. Hey, but that's just my way. Every nigga has his own way of running they shit. I kick $200 to Moms to go grocery shopping; that way I can get my swirl on while she's out of the crib.

“Hey, baby, you all right?” I ask Nessa, pulling her close to me and stroking the back of her hair.

“Yeah, I'm good. What about you, Daddy? Did you miss me at all?” Nessa asks as she leads me to the bedroom. She knows what time it is. It's time for her to take care of Big Daddy. She is back at Daddy's house, and it is time for me to get mine. She jumps in
the bathtub and in less than ten minutes she's out. I am chilling, laid back on the bed, coked up out of my fucking mind, waiting to be sucked and fucked by the best ho in town, and those ten minutes are five minutes too long.

I lay Nessa on her stomach, so the sun is shining through the bedroom window on her big round voluptuous ass. I rub her butt; her ass is beautiful, like a work of art. It's just as beautiful as the painting of Mona Lisa. I start kissing and squeezing her booty. She lays stretched out, spread eagle, her face down. Then I get on top of her; I want to feel her phat ass on my shit. I massage her back as I hump up and down on her ass. My shit is pulsating, as I make slow circular moves. The shit feels so good, I want to come, but I can't 'cause I haven't put my dick on yet, and if I come without my strap on, then I am just another bitch. I reach over to the nightstand and pull out my dark black dick and strap it on.

Nessa gets on her knees in the doggy-style position, and I stick my dick in her asshole and start fucking. I'm feeling good as shit, my head is tilted back farther than a Cadillac seat. I think I'm in heaven, and if heaven is this good, then I know goddamn well I ain't wanna go to hell. Nessa is working that ass like the professional she is. I pull my dick out and Nessa sucks it as I watch her lick my pussy secretions on the ten-inch friend that I bought from the X-rated shop at Belvidere and Broad. I tell Nessa to turn over and spread her legs. Nessa's clitoris looks old and worn out, 'cause she has been fucked by well over three hundred men, but I don't care; there is something about her pussy that I just can't get enough of. I slide my tongue inside and begin to lick; she tightens her pussy muscles, which excites me more. I rub her breast as I eat her out.

Nessa moans and cries out, “Oh, Daddy, I love you, I love you,” with her eyes rolled to the back of her head. The more she talks, the more I want her.

I say, “Yeah, bitch, say my name,” as I shove my middle finger
into her pussy. Nessa then pulls me up and flips me over on my back; she begins sucking my chest. 'Cause for real, I'm a nigga. I ain't got no mutherfucking titties, let's keep it real. She straddles across me and begins bumping her pussy against mine. My shit is throbbing, I want to come but I'm still not ready. I want more. Nessa slides off me and starts giving me head. The bitch licks my shit like nobody has ever licked it before, not even her. She presses down on my midsection with one hand, like I'm gonna try to raise up and run or something. Sheeett, run from this? Man, I ain't going nowhere!

We stand up and walk over to the window. I tell Nessa to put both hands on the windowsill and to back that thing up for me. She bends over and I drop to the floor and start eating her asshole. I spread her butt cheeks and stick my tongue in and out, in and out, as Nessa works that ass in slow motion. I grab my dick again, strap on, but this time I hit the pussy from the back door. I hook my arms underneath her until they land on her shoulders. I'm tearing that ass up! I raise the shade all the way up, so the sun will shine in. In the pj's we don't have mini-blinds, just one shade that stretches across the whole window. We are butt-ball naked, fucking in front of the window. Man, I am fucking the shit out of Nessa; she leans on the glass with her left hand while her right leg is propped up on the radiator. The radiator in the pj's is always by the window. The radiator used to get hot as a bitch in the winter, but it serves as a good ass prop in the summer. I start coming; my body starts shaking and jerking, and I moan in a masculine tone, “NOW, BITCH, NOW.” I snatch the strap from around my waist, and Nessa turns, drops to her knees, and starts eating my nut. Her head is buried between my legs as I stand with them spread apart. I grab onto her hair and look down at her while she pleases Big Daddy. My cum shoots out like water from a faucet. I come all over her face.

When she's finished licking, she gets up from her knees and we
both lean against the window, our bodies pressed against the glass. Nessa rolls a joint and laces it with coke; we smoke it while watching the neighborhood wake up. It's now two o'clock and people are starting to come out of the house. Kids are riding bicycles, and La-La has moved his operation down the block near my crib. I look into the street, and suddenly, there is Momma holding a brown paper bag in her hand and looking up at my bedroom window while Mr. Arnold, who charges less than Yellow Cab for a ride to and from the grocery store, stands outside his van, looking up at us with a perverted smile on his face. We've been caught; we are still standing butt-ball naked, in the window, in the middle of the day, in the sunshine.

TIME
FLIES FAST
when you're having fun. Half the day is gone and I need to get to the mall to get something fly to wear for tonight. I tell Nessa to run my bathwater. Then I call La-La to tell that nigga I'm gonna have to pay my tab later. That nigga told me this morning I owed him six hundred. Fuck that nigga, I ain't bout to pay up when all I got is $800 in my pocket. I'm going shopping. The new Jordans came out today, and I have to get me a pair. I have this bitch name Ayanna who works at Foot Locker in Cloverleaf Mall holding them for me. That bitch be jockeying me hard. I thought about asking her ass to use her discount, but I ain't really trying to fuck with her like that 'cause bitches be getting too attached. I told Nessa's ass last night, she wasn't getting a mutherfucking thing, and I still mean that shit!

I step into the bathroom and Nessa is standing in the tub waiting to wash Big Daddy off. I step in and sit down. The bitch has my water a little colder than usual, but I figure I'll let it slide, since she
worked so hard last night. Nessa grabs the Dial soap and starts washing my back. She tosses around a few bubbles, trying to be playful, but I'm really not in the mood for no goddamn rub-a-dub-dub two-bitches-in-the-tub type shit. I am thinking about where we're gonna work tonight. The races are still in town, so I know the ho stroll on Second will be slow. I stand up for Nessa to wash between my legs. As she is scrubbing me down, she's telling me how beautiful I am. I get mad and smash her face with my soap-filled hand, and the bitch's head hits the back of the wall. I've told Nessa's ass numerous times not to talk to me like I'm a bitch, but she keeps forgetting that shit.

See, my looks be throwing muh-fuckers off. I'm five feet eight inches, 160 pounds, medium brown, with long hair and chestnut-colored eyes. People say I look like Spinderella, Salt-N-Pepa's DJ, so niggas be asking me all the time why I like pussy. They say I can probably get any man I want if I learn to be feminine. I tell them niggas that pussy is all I know. I'm twenty-three years young, and I ain't never had a dick in my life. Never wanted any. I been liking pussy ever since Momma used to leave me over the next-door neighbor's house. I was about eleven and Cookie was twenty. Momma used to be hanging out at that goddamn Devil's Nite Club and shit. Cookie was bad as hell. She had a baby and a six-year-old daughter by this nigga that sold heroin. Them mutherfuckers used to hide the dope in the baby's Pampers and push the stroller up and down the street, using the baby to transport. The Feds got hip and caught the nigga Tom one day with the baby and locked his ass up, and Child Protective Services took the lil shorties away. Only way that bitch Cookie kept her project was 'cause she had breast cancer and shit.

Anyway, she used to keep me when Momma would go out. One night she was crying and shit, talking about how she missed Tom. She told me to get in bed with her, and before I knew it, she was
kissing all over my innocent little body. She told me we was playing mommies and daddies. I told her I was too old for that doll-baby shit. I was young, but I wasn't stupid. Man, Cookie turned my young ass out. By the time I was thirteen, I was head over heels in love with her ass. She was the one who taught me how to eat pussy. She used to demonstrate on her little girl's It's Alive doll baby. CPS had left the little white cracker doll behind. Then one night, she made me put this fake dick in her pussy; the shit was pink plastic and battery operated. She came all over the muh-fucker. Then she stuck her middle finger in her pussy, pulled it out, and told me to sniff then taste it. I sniffed it and then I sucked her cum off her finger. I been hooked on pussy ever since.

We was kicking it till I was bout fifteen. Then one day I saw this nigga coming out of her house and I got mad as hell. I knocked on the door and asked Cookie who that nigga was and she told me that he was her new sugar daddy. Man, I was so mad, I had smoke coming out my ears. That muh-fucker was bout fifty years old, with gray hair and a big-ass potbelly. I couldn't believe she was fucking round on me for that old-ass nigga. I grabbed her by her hair and punched her in the face. She grabbed the broom and started swinging that mutherfucker at me. Man, we was going hard. I was slinging her ass all around the living room, knocking over and breaking up some of that expensive shit that Tom had put in her crib. The next thing I know, that old nigga came running back in the house, and him and Cookie tried to bank me. I was handling mine, until Momma came and broke the shit up. When Momma asked why I was fighting Cookie, I told her that Cookie had been fucking with me since I was eleven. Momma was ticked off, so she reported her ass to CPS. Then, about a week later, Cookie died. She ain't never get locked up for sexing me, although they was investigating her ass.

So for real, I can't stand for a muh-fucker to talk that “you're pretty” shit to me. That's why I keep my hair cornrowed straight to
the back, or pulled back in a slick-ass ponytail like them niggas on the West Coast. I wear my jeans big and baggy and my shirts triple X. Yeah, I stay rough and ragged, just like the average nigga out here. Niggas better know what time it is.