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Authors: Nikki Turner

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BOOK: Forever a Hustler's Wife
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CHAPTER 25

The Little Whorehouse in South America

“B
ueno dias, señor,”
the owner of the whorehouse greeted the man.
“Tengo el cualto prepardao coono tegusta.”
He let the man know that he had his favorite room prepared for him.

“Gracias, Señor Miguel,”
the man replied.

Larry Fondsworth had migrated from Texas and had been living in South America for the past few years. Lootchee, as he preferred to be called, had been a millionaire ten times over before he ever left the States. Back at home, he was well respected in the business community as well as with the local politicians. But little did any of them know, he obtained most of his riches illegally. Everything was good in the hood for Lootchee—until the day his fiancée found out that he wasn’t the man he was pretending to be.

She had stumbled upon boxes of drugs, money, and stolen property that he had shipped in her name to a house he had purchased for her. Feeling betrayed, hurt, and brokenhearted, she tricked him into believing that the Feds had picked her up and were asking questions about him. That’s when he cut all ties with her, anybody who knew her, all of his associates, and most of his friends, and fled the United States. If the Feds were coming for him, they would have to look long, hard, and deep in the jungles of South America. He found out later that his fiancée had made up the whole story, and, to add insult to injury, that she had stolen all the money, drugs, and property that he’d had in the house and headed back to her home state of Virginia.

Lootchee vowed to get back at his fiancée and never to trust another woman again. Things didn’t work out too bad for Lootchee, though. He had met a few shady bankers in South America, had reacquainted himself with some of his old buddies, and was now making more paper than he could count—as if he needed any more—laundering money.

Yeah, life was sweet. He’d found a new home. And to top it off, he was getting the best pussy and head he had ever received in his life from an American hooker named Unique, who was working in a brothel that he visited three times a week.

“Tu mujer redresara tronot,”
Miguel said, informing Lootchee that his girl would be in shortly.

Lootchee, always in a hurry, said,
“No tengo para estar esternado,”
reminding Miguel that he didn’t have a bunch of time to waste.

“Ella es la major mujer trabajando aquí.”
Miguel told Lootchee that Unique was the best girl that he had working for him.

“Yo se que ella es la major mujer pore so mengo aquí cada día.”
Lootchee smiled, letting Miguel know that that was why he came three times a week and spent so much money there.

The place of business was an old two-story house, but it had been completely refurbished. There were twelve rooms, and at any given time, about twenty to twenty-five women worked there. Miguel made sure that all of his girls had monthly checkups, even the ones who were being held against their will.

Lootchee sat on the edge of the bed and cut on the twenty-inch, fuzzy, color television in what was supposed to be the VIP suite. It was the only room that had a door that actually locked and a private bathroom. It was also the sweetest-smelling room in the house; it was flooded with air fresheners to cover the smell of sex that had taken over the whole house.

Finally, Unique entered the room, and when she did, she set a little shopping bag on the dresser, on which most of the handles were broken. She knew the routine: She went in the bathroom, took a shower, and put on the lingerie and perfumed lotion that Lootchee always brought with him.

She came out of the bathroom wearing hot pink boy shorts and a matching camisole. It was undeniable that Unique was beautiful. She was light-skinned, with hazel eyes, and her body was tight. Every time Lootchee laid eyes on her, he knew she could be making big money in the States. The Luke dancers—or no stripper he had ever met, for that matter—could fuck with Unique. Every curve on her body was perfect, and what she did with her body parts kept him coming back for more. She performed tricks with her mouth and box that would have made most magicians proud. He was surprised that some other rich man hadn’t come through and paid her debt to Miguel and made her his own personal love slave. That thought had crossed his mind before. Unique always begged Lootchee to do just that, but he wasn’t up for making a whore into a housewife.

As Unique made her way over toward her client, she didn’t speak. Instead, she went straight to work, undoing his pants, pulling out his dick, and dropping to her knees to please him. After he exploded in her mouth, she took the excess that was dribbling down her chin and rubbed it onto her breasts, which she knew turned Lootchee on. Knowing she had his attention, she started undressing him. Once she had him naked and hard again, she started her performance while working him overtime, both mentally and physically. She knew he was her only way out of the predicament that she was in. Lootchee had made it clear that he wasn’t buying out her contract with Miguel, but if she could keep him coming back for about two more years, his tips would be more than enough to pay her debt.

Unique started licking between Lootchee’s toes, and he started to tense up. “You like that, baby?” she asked with a smile; she knew that she hadn’t lost her touch.

Lootchee could only manage a tight smile as he sucked in a deep breath. She got up and walked over to the bag she had brought in with her.

“What’s that?” Lootchee asked suspiciously, rising up off the bed.

She gave him a sexy smile before heading over to him and pushing him back down. “Relax,” she whispered in his ear, “let me love you.”

She began round two of her unique—no pun intended—blow job, one she had never given him before. He knew she was taking him to a place in ecstasy that no woman had ever taken him.

Lootchee closed his eyes, still on guard. His eyes snapped open when he felt her anchoring his hands to the bedposts with two scarves.

“What the hell?” he asked, knowing that he was too far gone.

“Relax, baby,” she said smoothly, ignoring his alarm. She reached into the bag again and pulled out a whip. “I hear you’ve been a very bad boy.” She pranced back and forth in front of him, smacking the whip in the palm of her hand. “I’m going to have to do something about that.” Without warning, she flicked the whip, and he felt it sting his thigh.

He looked at her, trying to figure out her game. Normally he would have been furious, but he was getting turned on in spite of himself. This was the only time he would ever let a woman have her way.

“Oh, yeah, you’ve been really bad, and I’m going to have to punish you.” She began spanking him, and as much as Lootchee thought about protesting, he couldn’t. There was something about the sensation that was turning him on in a way he never had been before.

By the time Unique finally straddled him, he was coming all over himself, erupting like a volcano. She smiled and bent down to take a sip. Before she could drink her fill, Lootchee’s phone rang, interrupting the moment.

He sighed, annoyed that he had forgotten to turn off his phone. Why did motherfuckers always have to call when he was taking a shit or getting his nut off? He raised his hips to get Unique off him and then went to reach for his phone. It took him a second to realize he was still tied to the bed.

“Untie me,” he ordered.

Unique did as he asked without question. Lootchee quickly grabbed the phone, trying to catch the call before it went to voice mail.

“Hello,” he said gruffly, trying to keep calm as Unique used her tongue to tease his nipples.

“This Larry?” Des asked on the other end.

“Yeah, who dis?” Lootchee asked, pushing Unique away, but she stopped only for a moment before going down on him.

Des ignored the question. “Your brother and I were roommates, and he told me only good things about you. I’ll be there in a few days. Hopefully we can play a few rounds of golf,” Des said.

“No doubt, that’s what I do, but how many holes are you talking?” Lootchee tried to pull away from Unique, but he couldn’t.

“Well, you know traveling makes me kinda hype. I hope you can handle all the energy I got.”

“I work out every day, so I’m looking forward to it. When you getting in?”

“Next Friday. Me and a couple of my deacons and doctors from my congregation will be at the hospital in the village.”

“Call me when you get in, and I’ll see you then. It’s all love,” he said, quickly hanging up and grabbing Unique by the back of her head so she could deep-throat him. After they finished, Unique sat on the bed beside him.

“Does that affect our Saturday date?” she asked.

“No, it doesn’t. Have I ever missed any of our appointments?”

“Nope.

“Then, don’t ask stupid questions.”

“You should really consider taking me with you,” she said seductively.

“Should I?” he asked with a devilish smirk.

“Umm-hmm.”

Lootchee took himself in his hand, looked down, and then looked up at Unique and said, “Convince me.”

CHAPTER 26

The Best Is Yet to Come

D
es stood before the church congregation and spoke. “As many of you know, for a few months I have been fighting a conspiracy against me. Well, as of yesterday at two forty-three
P.M.,
all charges against me were dropped. God is good!” The organist began playing shouting music, and the folks in the church began to shout for joy and get their praise dance on. “The devil is a liar,” he screamed as the organist hit some notes. “See, people, he comes to steal, kill, and destroy.” The organist banged on the organ between Des’s words. “When some see strong people and organizations, they make it their living existence to kill the dream, the vision, in any way fit. Those people knew I was a great man, destined to do great things—to swim, tread, and navigate through deep waters. They knew I’d lead a nation of many. They knew I’d be this era’s king, like King David, who killed lions and bears and protected his people. They knew my people would make a difference in this city, this country, and this world, and those prison bars were the only thing that could slow me down.” Des looked up and saw Lava sitting in the congregation. Des threw her a smile.

“Having that case kept me somewhat stagnant. It was a roadblock, hindering me from the missionary work that God wanted me to do. But see, God is the God of all gods. He has the last say-so in everything, and he promised he would protect me from any weapon formed against me, and he did. I’m living proof of God’s promise, and it’s not just me God made a promise to, it’s everybody. And once you begin walking in the direction God wants you to, the promise that’s hanging above your head just falls and covers you.”

“Hallelujah!” a member shouted.

“I receive it,” another added.

“Now, God has put it on my heart to go to South America to talk to the people in the tribes of the rain forest, to nurse our people that the governments have forgotten about.”

The congregation stood, applauding to show their agreement. Had they known that Des was really going to South America to launder $5.8 million, all hell would have broken loose. “Nobody here is wanting for a thing in our ministry. Everybody’s rent is paid, and nobody is starving. But can we say that about our brothers and sisters over in South America? The U.S. government is sending people to Iraq and Afghanistan, but have you ever heard of them sending medicine to our brothers and sisters over in Panama or Brazil? We are trailblazers. We have to go. We have to do what God called us to do.

“When you were left unwanted and thought you were forgotten about, someone saved you. God stepped in. For I’ve never seen the righteous forsaken. What about the righteous over in South America? Enough of sitting back thinking how you can spend your money on extreme indulgences. Step in and help those who feel there’s no way out, no one to help them; those who have no hope, and have almost given up.”

The people were on their feet applauding again, and Des couldn’t help but smile, still amazed that they were falling for what he was saying.

After the service, Lava waited as all Des’s followers shook his hand. Lava watched a woman give Des a pound cake. “The store was out of the chocolate I needed to get, so it isn’t chocolate,” the woman said apologetically.

“That’s all right, Ms. Mary,” Des said, kissing her on her cheek.

“But I did make a homemade coconut cake for you.”

“Ms. Mary, you are such a blessing to us. Thank you.” Slim took the cake from her.

While Lava waited to speak to Des, she wondered if she should share with him the news she had or keep it to herself. That’s when she saw Yarni, who gave her a big hug and invited her back to the house for dinner.

Once they got to the house, Lava was so happy to be there with them that she almost cried. It had been such a long time since she’d seen them, and it felt good to be around Nasir’s people. She waited for an opportunity to speak to Des alone, and she got that opportunity when Yarni took the baby to put her down for the night.

“Uncle Des, remember what I told you? It’s true,” Lava said in a low tone.

“What is?” Des asked.

“What I told you about Felix,” she whispered.

“Do you have proof?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Then, you need to give it to me.”

“My cousin saw him out at the club last night. He was drunk and high as a full moon. She went home with him, and he told her in so many words that”—she took a deep breath and began fanning herself—“that he had Nasir killed.”

“Felix said that to your cousin?”

“Yes. She said that he told her that he had to put down one of his customers, who was getting too ambitious and was on to his game. He felt threatened by Nasir. She was with me at church, but out of respect I didn’t want to bring her here to the house.”

Before Des could respond, they were interrupted by Yarni’s return.

“My poor baby was so tired,” Yarni said, then began to talk about Desi.

As Yarni talked, Des thought about Felix. He always knew there was something nefarious about Felix’s eyes, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. He was cold and low-down. No sooner had those thoughts crossed Des’s mind than it hit him—Felix had the eyes of a reptile; he was a snake. Des’s gut never lied. Lava was speaking the truth.

Des knew what he had to do.

BOOK: Forever a Hustler's Wife
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