Sex in the Hood Saga (45 page)

Duke wanted to fuck Reba right away, but she was acting all in a hurry to leave and do a party at The Garage.

“Why you gotta leave?” Duke stroked Timbo. He was nude, sitting up on the bed, his back against the headboard, his legs outstretched, and his dick in his hand.

“Ooooh, you got a pretty dick.” Reba stepped closer.

“I need some sexual healing,” Duke said. “Doc said it was okay.”

“I say it ain't.”

“If you gon' marry me,” Duke said, “I need a test-drive first. How I know you can't grind down on it like I like?”

“You do know,” Reba said, straddling the top of his thighs. Her hot ass in tight jeans against his skin made his dick throb harder. “Or did fuckin' Miss White Chocolate erase all memories of the sistas you used to kick it wit'?”

Duke wrapped his hands around her thighs and stared at her crotch. “Why don't you remind me? Take off yo' top.”

Reba pressed her fingertips to her nipples, caressing them through her shirt. They got even harder, poking like juicy grapes through her top. “Why you wanna see my titties?”

Duke stroked his dick. “Its gon' make me heal faster.”

She shifted to his kneecap then ground her crotch into him. “Work that shit,” he said. “An' suck on Timbo.”

Reba leaped off and stood beside the bed. “Duke, you ain't in no condition to mess around. You can't even laugh without pain.”

“Get on top,” he said, “take a ride. Gimme some sexual healing.”

“You been checked?” Reba asked. “Lemme see yo' card, 'cause I'm still workin' for Babylon. But if I catch somethin', I'm out on my ass. An' this plan ain't gon' work from the outside. So—”

“You think I'm some kinda infected muthafucka?”

“Duke, you know damn well that half the shit out there, ain't got no symptoms. Especially HIV.”

“You know how careful I was when we was fuckin' before.”

“But when you out on the street, doin' what you was doin' . . . no offense, Duke, but y'all gets sloppy.”

“Y'all'? What the fuck you mean?”

“It mean Reba don't fuck no dick that ain't been checked. My pussy clean and I'm keepin' it that way.” Reba cupped his face in her hands. “Duke, this can wait. I don't think—”

He grabbed her face and pulled her close. He planted a hot, juicy kiss on her lips.

She resisted, grabbing his wrists to pull away.

He didn't let go; her lips were tense and shut. But he pressed harder. Then he grabbed her ass and pulled her closer so that her crotch nibbed up against Timbo.

She moaned. And her lips relaxed. He slid his tongue into her mouth. She moaned and ground on his dick.

He pulled her ponytail back, yanked her head. Pulled up her shirt, buried his face in those big, delicious titties. Then his fingers pried at the metal button on the waist of her jeans.

She protested. “Duke—”

“I'll wear a condom, then I'll have Doc check me out.” Duke wanted the pussy, but he could get by without it.

Truth was, he was sleepy as hell from the painkiller. But he needed to see just how far Reba would go to prove her loyalty to him and his plan. “Baby, I promise I'm clean,” he whispered, pulling her close again for a kiss.

Something in Reba's gut told her don't play with fire, because as bad as Duke looked right now, somethin' wasn't right. Maybe it was just hard life wherever the hell he had been for a year. Maybe it was the drugs. Maybe HIV was the reason he was so skinny and pale, and his skin was all jacked up with blemishes.

Reba didn't want any money so bad she'd risk her life for it. What good would that do? Getting what you want and then dying with it in your hands? And dying from AIDS was no joke. AIDS took its time, like it was a felon of fate inside your body, gloating at the horrible ways that it vandalized your skin, maliciously destroyed your body functions, and attempted to kill many terrifying times before finally committing a homicide. That's what it seemed like when some muthafucka pulled his trigger inside her sister Lucille and shot up her insides with a spray of HIV infected sperm.

Reba had watched her sister waste away into a skeleton with chronic diarrhea and throat infections. Hearing her gasp for her last breaths convinced Reba that HIV was nothing to play with. That's why she loved Babylon. If she was gonna trick, then she had the best case scenario.

That computer card with the chip in her purse, the one that all the Sluts and Studs were required to carry and get updated weekly, was her life insurance. Clients carried the cards too, and had to get checked before every party.

Reba thought of her sister every day, to remind her how precious her health and life were. Yeah, this girl from the hood was doing just fine right now. A nice apartment at Babylon HQ, plenty of money, and tons of men to fuck her, flatter her, and buy her anything she wanted.

I ain't drivin' my yellow Corvette outside an' wearin' designer clothes 'cause I'm strugglin
'.

Shit, she was living a better life than she could've ever dreamed of growing up with her mama. When you grow up watching your ho-ass momma do her business in your face, the word
trick
takes on a whole new meaning. Trick or treat wasn't about Halloween. It was about the treats that Momma would buy for Reba and Lucille if she let a trick come while the girls were home.

Momma would give each daughter a dollar from the money that she'd earned for suckin' some crusty negro's dick, then she'd send the girls skipping down to the corner liquor store to buy whatever she and her trick wanted.

Baby Blue's mother, who used to stay in their tiny extra bedroom, while all three girls curled up to sleep together every night on the sofa bed in the living room, did the same thing; treats for their daughters after their tricks left.

Reba's favorite was a long red popsicle, which she would lick and suck the same way she'd seen Momma do all them dudes dicks. Momma took all those muthafuckas into the bedroom, but Reba and Lucille would still watch through the keyhole in the door.

Lucille's treat, though, was barbecue potato chips. She'd eat so many that her lips would burn, crack, and bleed from the salt and spices, because Lucille had the idea that love should hurt. So she followed in Momma's nasty footsteps, as a street ho. She dropped out of school, got hooked on drugs, and worked for a pimp who put blue marks on her black ass.

But Reba wanted to live a nicer life, like the white people she saw on TV. Somewhere out there was a better way. And all the boys and girls on TV who grew up to be somebody had to finish school first. So Reba kept going to middle school and high school.

But when Baby Blue took her to a party at Babylon, and she saw all those rappers and dancers and fine-ass niggas with rolls of dough in their pockets, Reba felt like she'd just stepped into ghetto paradise.

Then Baby Blue, who was already working as a Slut since dropping out of ninth grade, introduced her to Duke. Reba fucked him that night, and it was all over.

She loved his stuff so much she joined the Sex Squad and started working the next day. She even moved into Babylon, sharing an apartment with Baby Blue. It was a nicer place than she'd ever had. Shoot, just the fact that she had heat, hot water, plenty of good food, and no roaches made it an inner city Taj Mahal when compared to the rat hole Momma had kept her and Lucille in.

At Babylon, to keep living this glamorous life, all Reba had to do was do what she already loved to do; fuck, and everything was taken care of. But now, so many years later, she was tired of humpin' for a living. She didn't want to do this hard work for the rest of her life. No, she was looking for early retirement. And Duke, sitting here in a hotel room with bullet wounds, a big dream, and his dick in his hand, was her 401K plan.

“Get some papers or your card from Doc, an' this pussy yours for life,” Reba said. “Until then, I can polish yo' knob wit' my hands.”

“Naw, baby,” Duke said with a deep, almost sinister tone. “If we ain't down all the way like this, it ain't a done deal.”

Reba watched his chapped lips as he talked. She remembered how the girls used to say Duke had sucka lips. They were so sexy, that when he talked, all you could think about was wanting to suck on his bottom lip or his top lip or both at once.

But now, the dry skin made little vertical white lines up and down his lips. And while he talked, Reba thought she saw a red sore just inside his mouth. That could be a herpes blister or a syphilis chancre or a burn from a pipe or blunt. And all that made the thought of kissing him about as appetizing as licking a public toilet seat.

“Duke, I got rules for myself. You know how strict it be at Babylon.” Reba got a whiff of funk from his underarms. “Don't ask me to toss 'em to the wind jus' so you can blow yo' nut.”

“Bye.” His word shot through the air like a bullet. “Get yo' ass outta here. Bonnie an' Clyde splittin' up. Clyde gon' get anotha bitch to get paid wit'.”

Reba stared into his angry eyes. “You bluffin'.”

“Bye.”

She stood up, turned her back to him and unzipped her jeans to reveal her bare pussy since she didn't like wearing underwear. She pulled her pants down, and bent over at the waist.

“Now that's what I'm talkin' 'bout. Pussy wet as a mug.”

As she faced the floor, she pulled off her shirt, letting her titties dangle. Then, as she stepped out of her jeans and shoes, she pulled a condom from her front right pocket. She ripped it open, then turned around.

“Da-yum!” Duke stroked Timbo.

She stepped onto the bed. With lightning speed, she rolled the condom down on his dick and slid down on it. “You slick,” he said, “da's a'ight.”

He grimaced in pleasure and pain as he pounded up into the pussy; she slammed down at the same time.

Reba gripped his shoulders. But the sensation of rough scabs on his back made her raise her hands up to the back of his head. Normally shaved bald, it was prickly with a week's worth of hair growth. “Oooh, you know how to fuck,” Reba moaned.

“This some good pussy.” Duke stared up into her eyes. “Say you love me.”

The desperation in his eyes made Reba's gut cramp. “I love you,” she said as sensuously as a movie star in a love scene would. “I love you, Duke.”

“Say it while I cum,” he said, fucking her harder. And harder. And frantically. Breathing hard, like he'd just run down the block.

Damn, he didn't even try to let me cum first. But whatever. The sooner this dangerous shit was over with, the better.
She could relax and enjoy it when she knew he was healthy.

But the way he was drilling up, he could split steel with that dick. Plus, she was getting dry because she wasn't that into it. And a dry pussy, hard fucking, and a huge dick created the perfect formula for a broken condom and possible infection with whatever the fuck he might have.

“Duke, wait, let me check the condom,” she said. He pulled out. The whole condom still covered every inch of him.

“Okay.” She spat into her hand then rubbed the spit all up and down the outside of the condom. Then she slid Timbo back into her pussy.

“Oh, baby, I'm 'bout to cum,” he groaned. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He was breathing so hard, he was wheezing. All that smoking.

Reba glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Her heart was pounding, but it was out of fear. The image of her sister Lucille, laying on her deathbed, trembling, sweating, and making unhuman groan noises, flashed through her mind. For a second, Duke's face even transformed into Lucille's, her paper-thin skin stretched so tight over protruding cheekbones, it looked like the bone would slice right through.

“Ah!” Reba cried out. Not in pleasure but in terror. She never took risks like this. Didn't have to, because everything at Babylon was so medically checked and safe. She couldn't wait to get this over with. She'd carefully slide off the condom, go take a long, hot shower, and never put her life on the line again.

“Oh, fuck!” Duke shouted. He threw his head back.

She noticed his teeth were a dull yellow and his breath smelled like medicine. “Say you love me, girl!”

Reba stared at him. Was any money worth this? She did not love this nigga. She loved what this deal represented.

She saw herself in a black Benz convertible, shopping, taking fancy trips, bein' the baddest bitch around, and loaded with cash. “I love you,” she whispered, staring into his eyes.

“Yeah, love me!” he shouted. “Fuck!” Finally, he trembled with orgasm. “Damn,” Duke smiled, still huffing. “That was the best fuck I eva had. 'Cause we was makin' love, not fuckin'.”

Reba couldn't wait to get off this muthafucka. She knew damn well he had said those same words to countless women. Reba pinched the top of the condom around the base of his dick. She started to slide upward.

“Wait,” Duke said, pressing down her thighs. “I love you, Reba Sheba.” He stared tenderly into her eyes.

For a split second, the idea of a man saying he loved her and looking at her like that, made her want to cry. But she knew this love wasn't real. She knew this was a business exchange where both of them would be getting what they wanted. Right now all she wanted from Duke was, no viruses, no infections, and no bogus-ass words.

“I can't tell you,” Duke said, “how good it feel for somebody to give me some love. Not just pussy, but some real love. I ain't felt that since fo'eva.”

Reba wanted so desperately to feel that, she kissed his forehead. Because his ass was as pathetic as she was. And they were both perpetrating like they were tough. But at the core they were just two sorry-ass fools trying to play each other to get the prize.

After a long moment of pretending this was her husband who adored her for her, she pinched the base of the condom again. Holding tight to keep it in place and not spill sperm around her pussy, she carefully slid up and off but shredded rubber flopped down the sides of Duke's cum covered dick.