“You want this pussy?” she asked as she began to run her well-manicured finger over her clit.
Jihad was speechless as he watched in pleasure and pain as his woman played with her pussy, teasing him.
“You know this is your pussy, don’t you?” Monique stated more than asked. “I want you to see that I don’t need no man.”
He was screaming inside as he watched Monique open herself up and curl her finger deep inside, stroking her G-spot. He watched
as the nectar of her fruit reflected the dim light of the room. He wanted to taste her. To consume her taste buds with her
warm, sweet juice.
“Let me taste you,” he begged.
Wanting to satisfy her man, Monique climbed on
top of the bed and straddled his face as Jihad pushed his tongue deep inside her. The sense of hunger he felt overwhelmed
him as he sucked feverishly on her pussy.
As he pulled her lips apart he ran his tongue along the walls of her pussy. She bucked and pressed her pussy firmly against
his face while grabbing the back of his head, trying to pull him inside her. She was about to explode. Her first thought was
to back away so as to prolong her pleasure, but her body’s need to release won out as her core shuddered and erupted with
an explosive orgasm.
For a moment she was dazed and silent as she held on to Jihad’s head for support. Never had she cum so hard. Never had she
felt so free, and in an attempt to make it last she began to lower herself from Jihad’s face, saying, “Now it’s your turn.”
Monique wrapped her warm, soft hands around his dick and began to stroke him. In the past they had satisfied each other orally
but Monique had always been somewhat apprehensive about it. Tonight she was anything but as she took him in her mouth, stroking
and sucking him until his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he warned her, “I’m about to cum.”
His words didn’t deter her and being afraid that she hadn’t heard him he repeated himself. This only made her more determined
as she took him deeper in her mouth. Unable to hold back, Jihad grabbed her by the roots of her thick black hair, pushing
himself deep inside her as he released his hot load in her mouth.
Never missing a beat, Monique savored the taste of her man, making sure she didn’t leave a drop.
Unable to move, Jihad lay there as Monique curled up next to him and lay in his arms. “I know you ain’t done?” she whispered
as Jihad looked at her unbelievingly.
“I don’t think I can move,” he responded.
“Turn over,” she said.
Unable to disobey her, Jihad turned lazily on his stomach as Monique began to massage his shoulders and back. Her touch was
draining him of any energy he had left as she ran her tongue lightly across his skin, taking time to kiss each and every muscle.
Jihad was almost asleep when Monique descended below his waistline and gently placed kisses on the cheeks of his ass. Slowly
manipulating the area, she worked her way down until finally she spread his ass apart and ran her tongue through his crack.
He was fully awake now as he tried to crawl from her touch but she wouldn’t be denied as she slid her tongue in his forbidden
hole.
More than a few females had licked his ass, but to have Monique do it heightened the pleasure. It wasn’t the act itself, but
the standards she set for herself as a woman, that gave him an exhilarated sense of power. At this moment Jihad knew that
she was living out her fantasies and the fact that it was with him made him feel supreme.
By the time she finished Jihad was rock-hard as she turned him on his back and mounted his hard long pulsating cock.
“You ain’t never gonna forget this pussy,” she said as her hips pulsated up and down. Never before had a woman exercised this
much control over him. For the moment he was her slave. He had to do something. Her demeanor challenged him and his pride
couldn’t allow her to be in complete control as he pulled her leg underneath him and threw her on her back.
Unwilling to yield to his power, Monique continued to buck under his weight until he lifted himself up on his hands and thrust
himself deep inside her.
“Oh, now you want to fuck me,” she taunted, but the taunts turned to gasps and moans as her pussy expanded, allowing him to
enter her completely.
“Turn over,” he demanded as he pulled himself to her.
Eager to have him back inside her she quickly turned onto her elbows and lifted her ass so he could enter her.
Without hesitating, Jihad slid his manhood deep inside her as she backed into every stroke. The ecstasy was unbearable and
Jihad knew he was losing control, but instead of slowing down he pushed harder, filling her with his cum.
Knowing that he had just spent himself inside her, Monique ground and gyrated her hips while squeezing her vaginal muscle,
trying to hold her man inside. Surprisingly, she felt him start to rise again.
Monique was determined to not stop now as she hollered out, “I want to feel you in my ass.”
Jihad pulled himself out of her pussy. He lifted her ass up roughly as he spread her cheeks apart. He licked
her hole, tongue-fucking her tight virgin ass as she hollered with pleasure, “Fuck me. Fuck me now!” she demanded.
Jihad raised up and mounted himself behind her as he began to work his large cock into her ass. She was so tight he had to
grit his teeth against the pleasurable ache as he penetrated her tight, juicy ass. She screamed out in pain as he buried his
dick deep in her ass. Her screams caused Jihad to push deeper inside her as her muscles gripped his dick like a vise. A look
of pleasure crossed Monique’s face as multiple orgasms started to rock her body.
“Don’t you ever forget this ass!” she screamed out. “I want to feel you cum in my ass.”
As if on cue, Jihad shot his load deep inside Monique.
T
hree days had passed since Monique’s arrival, but now the time came for her to leave as they stood holding each other. No
words were spoken. They knew this was good-bye and words would only complicate things. It had been years since Jihad last
shed a tear but now his stomach turned and his vision became blurry as he pulled Monique close to him and said, “You gotta
live for both of us.”
Knowing that was Jihad’s way of saying good-bye, she kissed him one last time, saying, “I’ll always love you.”
With that she turned to leave, but before she went Jihad grabbed her arm, pulled an envelope out of his back pocket and handed
it to her, saying, “That’s twenty-five thousand dollars. I’ll try to get you something more once I get situated. You know
I can’t keep in touch, but somebody will. Just do me a favor and graduate. Then get the fuck away from here.”
Monique knew Jihad wouldn’t take the money back so she didn’t argue. Instead, she turned and walked out the door. Tears blurred
her vision as she drove away.
* * *
“You all right?” asked Crook as he sat at the kitchen table watching his best friend grieve.
“Nah, but I will be,” Jihad answered. “Let’s just get the fuck out of here.”
Over the past three days Crook and Jihad had put everything in order. It was decided that once Monique left they would be
leaving right behind her.
In order to change their appearance, both men cut their hair and bought some glasses. Their little man Squirt hooked them
up with some fake IDs. The two best friends were about to embark on a journey. They had a little over $150,000 between them,
which was enough for a new start.
The bus station and airports would be monitored so they planned to drive a rental car to Charleston, West Virginia. From there
they would catch the Greyhound. In Texas the duo would be met by Crook’s cousin Chris, and from there they would see what
happened.
Both men were wound up tight as a clock. They expected the police to jump out behind them at any moment. Neither man was stupid.
The murder of a federal agent meant certain death. Therefore, they had already agreed that the only court they would participate
in would be held in the streets. However, without incident the two arrived in Charleston some three and a half hours later
and thanks to Squirt they would have five days before the rental car was reported stolen. He had paid some fiend a half ounce
to rent the car and follow through with the plan. They didn’t think the police
would connect the car to them, but just in case, they wanted to be tucked away safely.
Once they were in the bus station, their nerves didn’t get much better as the presence of the police made them somewhat paranoid.
They were dirty as hell. Each man wore a vest. Jihad had a nine-millimeter Beretta tucked in his waist and Crook was armed
with a .38 revolver. Under normal circumstances they would never have traveled in this manner, but this trip was anything
but normal. Not to mention that the JanSport backpack slung over Crook’s shoulder contained their livelihood. Therefore, they
weren’t taking any chances.
After purchasing their tickets and finding seats the two waited patiently for their bus, which was due at one-twenty p.m.
Checking his watch Jihad saw that it was a little after twelve-thirty p.m., so he left to grab them something to eat.
After what seemed like forever, they heard the call for their bus, casually proceeding to their shuttle of freedom.
The trip was uneventful, taking about thirty-six hours. By the time they arrived at the small bus station in Kileen, Texas,
their bodies were sore and their minds exhausted. Sweating profusely from the vests and tired beyond reason, they were grateful
that Chris was outside the terminal waiting for them.
Jihad had met Chris at Crook’s family reunion. That was five years ago but he still looked the same: dark-skinned, with a
low-cut Caesar and a chubby frame. He looked like a teddy bear.
“What’s up, Cuz?” asked Chris.
“Ain’t nothing. You remember Jihad, right?” asked Crook.
“No doubt. What’s going on?” asked Chris as he showed Jihad some love.
As the greetings continued, the trio made their way to Chris’s ride and hopped in.
“So what’s up, Cuz, you got some drama?” asked Chris.
“Man, if you only knew,” replied Crook. “Let’s just say we need to stay low… forever.”
The ride to Chris’s house took about five minutes and once they were settled, Chris cracked a bottle of Rémy as Crook explained
their dilemma.
“Y’all niggas fucked up big!” commented Chris as he stared wide-eyed at the two. Then he added, “You know I got y’all’s back!”
Four months later…
A
t first Crook and Jihad stayed hidden, never wanting to venture outside the apartment. Eventually the hot Texas weather and
need for some form of life pushed them out the door.
The apartment complex they were staying in was a nice spot that was tucked away in the cut. Chris had shown the duo lots of
love. Not only did he have their apartment in his name, he put both their rides in his name. And staring out the window and
into the pool area, Crook had finally had enough as he said, “Fuck this. I need some pussy.”
Jihad, understanding his friend, just laughed. The women in Texas were fine, thick, and he was miserable as hell without one.
They had met a few women messing around with Chris, but both had agreed not to get serious with anyone. They had to stay on
point. They couldn’t allow their faces to become known. However, being cooped up like an animal was starting to take its toll
and
Jihad said, “Fuck it,” as he headed out the door after his man.
It was Saturday afternoon, the pool was packed. Still somewhat leery about getting familiar with the neighbors, Jihad found
an open table outside the pool area and watched as Crook jumped in the pool.
After sitting out under the hot sun for a few minutes, Jihad began to relax as he thought about everything that had transpired.
He was so consumed that he didn’t notice the woman walk up beside him until she asked, “You ain’t gonna swim?”
Startled, Jihad looked up as the woman apologized for interrupting, but then regained his composure and replied, “Nah. I’m
just laying back, shorty. Why you ask?”
“You look like you’re lonely,” she said in a sincere tone.
Jihad laughed as he thought to himself,
If you only knew
. Then he asked, “What’s your name, Miss Lady?”
“Tiffany. What’s yours?” she asked.
“Tony.”
“Just Tony?” she asked. “You don’t have a real name?”
“Let’s just keep it at Tony and Tiffany right now, babygirl,” he laughed as they began to talk.
The conversation was pleasant and something about her demeanor made him hate lying. She asked where he was from and he said,
“New York.”
She asked what he did and he said, “I own real estate.” Which wasn’t a total lie, but the fact that the Feds had probably
seized everything in his name by now probably canceled out the truth of his statement.
Shorty wasn’t stupid. She knew Jihad was a hustler so the lies he told were expected. Therefore, she didn’t trip or pry too
much. She figured that he probably did own some property, but that definitely wasn’t how he made a living.
“What you doing in Texas?” she asked.
“Damn, babygirl. You sure ask a lot of questions,” he laughed and then added, “Why don’t you tell me something about you?”
She was a twenty-six-year-old single mother who was a registered nurse, which made Jihad laugh to himself, thinking,
Good, when the police shoot my ass up you can put me back together.
For over two hours the pair sat and talked. Jihad was surprised to look up and see that Crook was gone.
He must have figured me and shorty was better off left alone
, thought Jihad.
“So what apartment do you live in?” asked Jihad, wondering why he had never seen Tiffany before.
“Oh, I don’t live here,” she said. “My sister does.”
“I guess that means I can’t stop by and check you out then,” Jihad said.
“You can check me out whenever,” she offered as she retrieved a pen and piece of paper from her purse and began to write.
“All you got to do is call.”