It's Like Candy (8 page)

“Aaaaaahhh . . . aaaaaahhh . . . aaaaaahhh,” she groaned, feeling as if a tree was in her stomach. “Ohmygod! Aaaaaahhh . . . ohmygod!”

Becoming excited by her constant moaning and panting, Bamboo pushed more into her, thrusting. Starr gripped his back, leaving scratches.

“Shit, niggah, you gotta big dick,” Starr cried out, feeling her pussy opening wider the deeper he pushed himself into her.

Bamboo continued to thrust, pushing more and more of his swollen dick in her. Starr tightly gripped the bedsheets as her eyes rolled up in her head.

“You like it?” Bamboo asked, pressed against his knees in a vertical position, gripping her smooth brown thighs, and fucking Starr as if there would be no tomorrow for him. “Shit! Yo, you about to make me come, Starr.”

“Aaaaaahhh . . . uuuummmm,” she panted, tightening her love muscles around his erection and crying out.

“Shit, Starr! Fuck, you makin' me come!” Bamboo exclaimed, as he sweated and continued to thrust and thrust. “I'm coming!”

“That's right, niggah, come for me. You know my shit is good,” Starr hollered, rotating her hips against his pelvis steadily, causing Bamboo to suddenly shudder, gripping her thighs tightly and screaming out, “Shit! Shit! Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhh . . . Fuck! Fuck!” as he exploded inside of her. After that, he fell against her bare breasts, panting and wheezing.

Starr held him momentarily, whispering in his ear, “Told you my pussy was worth every penny. You need to tip my ass.”

Bamboo remained silent, relishing the moment. But he was getting a little too comfortable. Starr thought that he was about to fall asleep on top of her.

“Okay, niggah, time is up. You gotta get up,” Starr said, trying to push him off of her.

“Hold on, give me a few minutes,” he said, not even trying to budge as he had her pinned underneath him.

Starr sighed. “Bamboo, get off me. Fuck, you starting to get heavy.”

“Let me eat that pussy,” he unexpectedly said in a whisper.

“Niggah, what? You gotta come extra for that,” she said.

“C'mon, I'm giving you pleasure. I just wanna know how you taste,” he said, picking himself up off her and giving Starr some breathing room between them.

“Fifty dollars and you can do whatever you want down there,” she confirmed.

“Why is it always about money wit' you?” he barked.

“Niggah, you wanna taste it, fifty dollars,” she said.

Bamboo sighed loudly, and retorted, “You know what, Starr, you ain't nuthin' but a money-hungry cunt! Next time I'm taking this shit for free.” He swiftly grabbed between her legs tightly and felt her up with such force that Starr shrieked. His nails began to dig into her skin, and then he wrapped his hand around her neck suddenly, causing Starr to gasp.

“Don't fuckin' play wit' me, you bitch,” he snapped, becoming a different person all of a sudden. Starr looked up at him in horror. “I'm being nice ‘cause you young, and you cool. But you lucky I don't beat the shit out of you right now in this room and take my fuckin' money back.”

Starr clutched his wrist, trying to loosen his grip around her neck, but he was strong and he became crazy. She kicked and squirmed frantically, but Bamboo just sat there, calm and collected as he tried to squeeze the life out of Starr.

“You want me to let go?” he asked, taunted her. “Huh?”

“Please . . . stop . . .” she managed to say, gasping.

“You got a hundred and fifty, huh? You wanna pay for your fuckin' life?”

Starr now regretted fucking him. Critter was a cheap and ugly bastard, but Bamboo was a lunatic, and just went off on someone unexpectedly. Starr didn't even see it coming. He just snapped,

Starr continued to fight for her life, never letting go of his wrist. She tried digging her nails into his skin, drawing blood, but Bamboo still didn't let go.

“I hate it when bitches be trying to play me . . . you know what I'm sayin'? I'm a nice guy, fo' real,” he said, talking to her like they were friends.

“Please . . .” Starr begged for her life in a small whisper.

“What? What? You like me, Starr?”

Starr felt her young life fading from her. She couldn't even speak. She was losing the fight for her life.

“Bitch, you dying on me?” Bamboo asked in a cynical tone. “You can't die.”

Suddenly he loosened his grip around her neck and Starr began to cough as she soothed her neck.

Bamboo got off the bed, and began talkin to Starr as if nothing had happened. “Damn, that pussy was so good, Starr . . . fo' real. I was just playing with you. I wasn't gonna kill you. We cool, right?”

Starr looked up at Bamboo with contempt, still massaging her sore neck. Starr had a small blade hidden in her skirt. She wanted to cut him.

Bamboo walked around the room naked, talking to himself, as he jerked off in front of Starr.

“I'm a king. I'm a king. I'm a king,” he chanted.

This niggah is really crazy,
she said to herself.

“Starr, I'm a king, right? You love me, right? I'm the best. I fucked you good. You my queen, right?” he asked, gripping his long big dick and pleasing himself as he walked toward Starr.

“Bamboo, get the fuck away from me,” Starr said, moving herself off the bed and trying to reach for her knife.

“Bitch, don't diss me!” he shouted. “You know what? I want my fuckin' money back. You gonna give me my fuckin' money back.”

“Niggah, you must be fuckin' crazy!” Starr said inching closer to her clothing and never taking her eyes off him.

“Bitch, don't diss me!” he yelled, and ran toward her.

Starr ran for her knife, but Bamboo was too quick. He darted across the bed and leaped on Starr, knocking her down on the floor.

Starr screamed and fought Bamboo. She kicked, punched, and bit him on his ear, causing Bamboo to cry out.

“You bit me you stupid bitch!” he shouted. He picked up Starr and hurled her across the room as if she was nothing.

Starr landed against the wall, in pain. But before she could look up, Bamboo was right on top of her again, grabbing her forcefully by her arms, and saying, “Get up, you stupid bitch!”

He picked Starr up and dragged her over to the bed, though she tried to fight, scratch, and free herself. Bamboo pushed her down on her back and jumped on top of her, straddling her and pinning her arms down with his knees.

“Bitch, I'm your fuckin' daddy!” he shouted, which was followed by a hard right hand slap across her face. “Starr, you hear me? I'm your daddy!”

“Fuck you!”

“Bitch, what?!”
Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap.
He struck her multiple times, drawing blood from her mouth.

“You got something to say?” he screamed.

Starr was crying, hurt, and she wanted to kill him. He had her arms pinned against the mattress, using the force of his body weight.

“I'm Bamboo, bitch. You better start respecting me,” he stated. “I'm your daddy, bitch!”

“Fuck you!” she said.

This time instead of a slap he punched her with a closed fist against her jaw. He hit her so hard that Starr thought he knocked a tooth loose.

“I see that I'm gonna have to start teaching this bitch to have some respect for a man. Right, bitch? You a stupid bitch!” Bamboo began hitting Starr as though he was Mike Tyson in the ring.

Starr cried out loudly, trying to protect herself from the rain of blows that came down on her. But he was too strong and too crazy.

“C'mere, spread your fuckin' legs. Daddy got a surprise for you,” he said, opening her legs and positioning himself between her thighs.

Starr just lay there motionless, her face battered and bloody, and her left eye swollen shut. She felt Bamboo in between her legs, but she couldn't do anything about it. Her body was weak and sore. Bamboo gripped his monstrous-sized dick, and without any compassion
for her petite figure, he thrust himself so far into her that Starr felt him tear something inside.

She cried out in pain as Bamboo tried ramming all ten inches into her, hitting places in her that no man had ever hit before.

“Stop! Please!” Starr cried out. “It hurts—”

But her pleas fell on deaf ears. Bamboo pounded away into her, tearing away at her raw insides.

“Fuck you, bitch. I'm a king. I'm a king. I'm Bamboo. I'm Bamboo,” he chanted, as he thrust and thrust, fucking Starr as if she was some lifeless rag doll underneath him.

“Fuck this!” he said, pulling out his erection, rolling Starr over on her stomach, and shoving his big black dick in her ass.

“Noooo . . . aaaaaahhh,” she cried out. Even though she was familiar with ass fucking, the way Bamboo went about it was very fast and rough, with no lubrication at all, and it was even worse for her because of his size.

The situation reminded Starr painfully of when she'd lost her virginity at the age of twelve—just lying there having no control over her body, and having a man have his way with her. She'd thought she had control now, four years later, but Bamboo proved her wrong. He was worse than the man her mother had brought into her bedroom while she was sleeping.

Starr wanted to pass out, the pain in her ass was so unbearable. She tried to fight, but Bamboo beat the shit out of her.

“Turn over on your back again,” he said, switching her to another position, and shoving his dick into her pussy again. “I'm coming again!” he shouted.

He thrust and he thrust until he came in Starr again, this time without any protection. Starr was sprawled out on the mattress, crying. She couldn't move, and she could barely see.

Bamboo beat her again, until he saw that she'd finally had enough. He got dressed, took his clothes and her shit, and left the room, leaving Starr unconscious.

River walked into her apartment
ten minutes after midnight, ten thousand dollars richer. She, Big Red, and Twinkie had just caught another hustler slipping for some pussy. And surprisingly, it only took the young twenty-three-year-old drug dealer three days to trust River.

The first night they met, he took her to his apartment in Hollis and cooked a full meal for her. He was trying to show off his cooking skills, hoping that she'd give him some pussy. But all he got was a thank-you, a hug, and a hard-on.

River walked into her dark apartment, only to hear loud moans and grunts coming from her roommate's room, which meant that Tah-Tah's boyfriend, Kay, had come by for a booty call.

River sighed, hearing the two go at it. She walked into the kitchen to fix herself a quick snack before she went to bed. She was tired and wanted to sleep for hours.

She started to make herself a sandwich when she heard, “I know you heard us in there.”

She turned around and saw Tah-Tah walking into the kitchen naked.

“I really wasn't payin' attention,” River returned.

Tah-Tah had a lovely shape, with a phat booty and small waistline. She had hypnotic green eyes and long sinuous hair; she looked like a candidate for Ms. America. But she was ghetto.

“You know Kay came by ‘cuz he was missin' a sista', you know what I'm savin'? I had to break him off wit' some pussy, ‘cuz look what he just bought me,” Tah-Tah said, holding up her wrist and showing off a diamond-encrusted bracelet.

“Nice,” River said, glancing at it.

“I know. See the things a man can get you when you fuckin' him right?” Tah-Tah proclaimed, staring at her bracelet. “I got that nig-gah in my bedroom right now, knock the fuck out. My pussy gets me all kinds of things. I got niggahs down at the club begging to get wit' this. Shit, River, you need to come dance at Day Dreamz. I'm tellin' you, wit' your looks and that body, you gonna come off good. You can easily make a thousand a night if your game is tight. You coming up in here after midnight doin' what out there, girl, dating these broke niggahs and workin' some low-end job?”

Tah-Tah was unaware of River's dangerous occupation. As far as she knew, River worked a dead-end job somewhere in Brooklyn and dated broke-ass niggahs. River knew that Tah-Tah ran her mouth too much, sometimes to the wrong people. And she couldn't risk information getting back to the wrong type of people.

“River, you need a man wit' some money, you know what I'm sayin'? Shit, I'm gettin' it good from the club and Kay. I ain't tryin' to be some broke bitch. I look too fuckin' good for that. And you can, too. You ain't ugly, that's fo' sure. I know plenty of niggahs that wanna holla at you. And they gettin' money.”

River quickly made her sandwich. She was tired of hearing Tah-Tah's mouth. She was tired of hearing her talk about what car that one was driving, and how much money this one was making, and how her pussy was making them come out of their pockets to buy her nice things. Every day Tah-Tah talked about the same shit, nothing new.

And sadly, Tah-Tah's attitude and the way she saw life reminded River of her own mother, and how selfish and conceited she was. Her mother was a ho, abusive, and a money-hungry bitch.

River had met Tah-Tah at a Brooklyn strip club a year ago, and at first the two hit it off really well and decided to share an apartment together and go halves on the rent. But a year later, her friendship with Tah-Tah grew tiresome.

Tah-Tah was too raw, she didn't give a fuck about standing butt-naked in the kitchen and bragging about sex, her pussy, and how men were constantly buying her things after she had finished fucking them.

“I got a niggah for you, River. And he drive a Benz,” Tah-Tah said.

“I can get a man on my own, Tah-Tah,” River replied.

“Please, them broke niggahs you be wit' . . . they ain't doin' shit for you. I'm tellin' you, get wit' this niggah, and you gonna be able to quit your job in a month. And if you start dancing again and come work down at the club, you gonna be paid.”