Sex in the Hood Saga (54 page)

It would be an inevitable and unfortunate chain of events Red Moreno mused as he watched the luscious breasts on stage, when the Johnson brothers would finally meet their fate. Soon they would be resting right alongside their despicable brother, Prince.
Tonight I will wipe them off the screen so that I may single-handedly rule this underworld by adding it to my global empire.

Babylon was too large and successful for any black man to own. Moreno had simply gone along with that bogus deal led by that misguided, mixed-up Cleopatra wannabe so that he could legitimately get inside the same building with both brothers at once.

Red glanced at his two brothers as Babylon whores performed fellatio on them. Together they were an international phenomenon. He thought of the Johnson brothers starting with Prince, then Knight, then Duke, always a thorn in the side of Moreno Enterprises, when it came to the lucrative market of inner city Detroit.

Finally, Red would savor the delight of wiping the remaining two Johnsons off the map. Now, the true showdown would occur, and neither Duke nor Knight would have a chance.

Her half-black beauty and theatrical style would gather thousands from the businessmen who traveled to the sleek city every day from around the world. Plus Red would get to savor her succulence whenever he wanted.

Now, his body tingled from the head he was getting from a black chick he'd picked up in the lobby. In his mind, though, he was fast-forwarding to the moment when Cleopatra would be sucking his schlong
.
She'd have nobody to protect her, and her survival would depend on following the orders of her captors. Just like she'd done, according to B-Boy's account of her life over the past year, when Duke kidnapped her into his urban hell. She'd gone from rich and white to black and poor.

Now she'd go from ghetto fabulous to global fast-lane, courtesy of Red Moreno.

B-Boy had told him all about her real background. By getting her out of the country and relieving her of that federal fugitive status, he'd be doing her a favor. And with his connections, getting past authorities and customs and any other government pests would be done faster than anyone could say, “Kidnapping.”

In a short while, Moreno's battalion would be moving in on boats, in trucks, and on foot to bring this building called The Playhouse under siege.

The Queen thought she'd seen it all, but the way those girls were competing in the Craziest Pussy Tricks event was straight-up mind-blowing. Especially that chick on the Mob Squad Movies team, who was chewing gum and blowing big pink bubbles with her pussy!

“How did she do that?” The Queen gasped.

“She a nasty freak!” CoCo exclaimed playfully, mesmerized by the close-up shots of that bubble-blowing bitch on the two giant video screens on the upper left and upper right of the stage. “She got the smokin' chick beat hands down.”

So far they'd watched Sexarella's girl smoke a cigarette with her twat. A Slam Dunk chick had shot marbles out of her cunt, which she aimed at a hole in the center of a target and made every shot! And a Moreno contestant had made herself orgasm by rubbing her clit with her fingers before squirting cum twelve feet across the stage!

If this shit weren't so wild and crazy, The Queen would have been out of her mind with worry over where the fuck Knight had disappeared to. She knew he and his boys were searching for Duke, and that security was of utmost concern tonight, especially after that crazy shooting at the wedding after the alarm had gone off.

Plus she got the feeling that a whole lot more than she knew was going down right now, and it was about to break wide open in a few hours. Her telepathic love connection with Knight told her so. Along with the very worrisome vibe that something was still terribly wrong with his health. And the stress of this evening could knock him out cold. Or worse.

“Hey, girl,” CoCo said, putting her arm around The Queen, “Knight don't eva lose so take a deep breath an' enjoy this crazy shit.” CoCo pointed to the stage, where a bright green snake was slithering out of a girl's pussy and onto the black-skin of her thigh.

I hope you're right CoCo.
With all the craziness going on, The Queen just sat there and wondered what in the world would come next.

Knight drew one of his four guns before easing open the door to the Champagne Room. That's where, according to Big Moe's second text message, they were holding Li'l Tut with Dickman.

Now, in the silent room, Big Moe sat on the end of the white couch, his eyes wide open, staring forward. Facing him in the plush, cube-shaped chairs, sat two Barriors and two others knelt with their faces touching the carpet.

And they were all dead.

The intense pain of his cheek and his dick riled Duke into a rabid state of mind. He was on a rampage, and he'd kill and destroy anything in his way. Whether that was Knight or Duchess or anybody else.

Duke charged down the hallway on the third floor. He had to get to the vault before Knight tried any tricks to move the money collected as admissions, bets, and prizes for The Games. Those millions would be a good start.

Later on, Duke would hack into the computer system to access the millions that were his for the taking.

“Man, you shoulda let me stay up there,” Duke said as Dickman hurried alongside him. “Coulda knocked off Knight, put that worry outta our minds.”

“No time fo' that, dude,” Dickman said. “You already done let a bitch take yo' gun an' jack yo' ass today, so I know you ain't right tonight. Let me han'le the security detail.”

Duke spun around and knocked Dickman's leather cap off. “Muthafucka, this my world! You call me Massa.”

“I'll call you
crazy,
nigga!”

Duke glared back at his boy. The rage pumping through his thin limbs numbed the pain in his cheek and his dick.

Duke imagined Knight walking up on them during their temper tantrum in the hallway and popping both their stupid asses. Duke spun on his heel and ran toward the vault with Dickman following.

Duke had already called Shar and Leroy to mobilize their crew to physically get the cash.
Fuck Moreno.
Duke had only gone through the motions of including him to get a feel for what that international gangster wanted.

As Knight text messaged Ping and Pong about what was going down, so that they'd body-block The Queen at all times, his mind spun with options. He could sound the alarm and put the whole building on lockdown; he could get The Queen and leave now, then flee to the safety of a new life with the millions they already had in his overseas accounts; or he could hunt down Li'l Tut, take him down his damn self, then execute Manifest Destiny the way he'd planned.

So what if his chest ached? So what if he was breathing hard? So what if intuition was telling him that he should be worried about much more than Li'l Tut trying to show out tonight? It was time to fight to the death, defy it, and Houdini the hell outta here.

No way in hell was this black warrior going to punk out and run from his own kingdom, until he decided the time was right.

Baby Blue knew she would be named Sexiest Slut. Didn't matter that she didn't want dick anymore. Didn't matter that she was about to become part of Shar Miller's harem out in Las Vegas. Baby Blue knew she had the stuff to impress these judges right now. Starting with her sexiest walk. She had modeled it after her mother's naturally seductive strut.

Yeah, like this, with my
ass
pooted out, my toes pointed in, and a slow-motion roll with every step.

The audience exploded.

“Do yo' thang, Double D!” a dude shouted from the front row.

The Queen smiled.

The mesmerizing power of the walk, Baby Blue knew too, was also in the way she worked her face. The way she radiated sex power from her eyes and her glossed, pouty lips. And the way she projected laser beams of attitude that brainwashed and seduced everyone within a mile radius to believe, Baby Blue is the sexiest bitch around.

Didn't even matter that she was wearing that skimpy blue leather bikini that Reba had bought her; Baby Blue could've worked this magic in a gray sweatsuit.

As she strutted through the ankle-deep mist on the stage, Baby Blue caught glimpses of her audience that affirmed she would win.

On top of that, all the judges were staring up, wide-eyed, like they wanted to jump the stage, tackle her onto one of those giant beds, and lick her up, down, and sideways.

Most important, Baby Blue was loving herself. She wasn't doing this to impress anybody else; she was doing this to celebrate herself. She was ready to retire from Babylon and she wanted to go out knowing she'd done good for herself. She'd been saving her money all these years, and winning the half a million dollars would bolster her savings to create a security blanket in case things didn't work out when she lived the glamorous life with Shar Miller in Vegas.

Right now, Baby Blue knew she had all those other gorgeous women beat, “booty down.” Because it wasn't about the big hair or the lip gloss or the perfect titties or the pierced bellybuttons.

Reba once had it too, but all her evil gold-digging finally caught up with her in the worst way, falling out blood-covered and dead at a wedding! Not just any wedding, but the most important wedding Babylon had ever seen.

Reba had been plotting with Duke so he'd marry her, but fate had just fucked her up the ass on this one.

Baby Blue cast a sexy smile at the roaring audience. She pivoted on a sparkly blue stiletto sandal, poked her juicy ass out toward the judges, wound it just enough, then strutted back to her spot with the other contestants, knowing she was the Sexiest Slut in Babylon and beyond.

CoCo was about to cum on herself.

Because the whole stage was covered with cocks.

She couldn't remember the last time she was this turned on. It was like her pussy was a faucet, soaking her whole crotch in hot water, making a puddle inside the pink leather dress she'd worn to the wedding reception dinner.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jamal announced, “now it's time for one of the most popular events here at The Games, the Most Perfect Dick contest!”

The audience roared.

CoCo and The Queen pulled out binoculars to check out close-ups of the twenty-five men standing nude on the stage.

“It's time to announce the five finalists that the judges have chosen.” Jamal opened an envelope and called out the names and teams that each man represented.

CoCo wished she could lay spread-eagled on that big bed in the middle of the stage and let those five pull a train on her horny ass. It was just a fantasy, because no way was she going to jeopardize her spot as Jamal's lady. Nope, someday soon she would follow in The Queen's sexy footsteps and become a married woman. Maybe CoCo could even take over the daily operations of Babylon when The Queen started having babies.

Suddenly the shock of the day came crashing down on CoCo. She had killed two people today in self-defense to save herself and The Queen. How Reba had lived through two bullet wounds long enough to get upstairs to the roof and expire on the wedding aisle was still trippin' her out. And how Duke had snuck into Babylon and bogarted into their suite was even more mind-blowing. It was a good thing CoCo had a gun stashed in the bathrobe pocket, just in case. Why she'd chosen the one with the silencer on it, she didn't know, but if Duke had heard shots when she took out Reba and Antoine, he could've hurt The Queen.

CoCo shook her head to exorcise those haunting, horrible thoughts. She'd been drinking champagne tonight, which had softened her stress. But sex was her ultimate escape, the most intense intoxicant, the most decadent distraction.

Yeah, all those delicious dicks down there proved that the world was one big buffet of male meat of every cut, grade, and quality. CoCo's mouth watered as she examined the final five contestants up on the stage.

CoCo stared with freakish fascination. Like that time when she was a kid and her parents took her to the Guinness Book of World Records museum.

“Girl, I wanna ride all five of them,” CoCo whispered to The Queen. “You okay?”

The Queen's eyes shimmered in the dim light as tears threatened to drip.

CoCo put her arm around her.

“I'm scared.” The Queen sobbed into CoCo's shoulder. “Knight disappeared backstage an hour ago. He won't answer his phone, and Ping and Pong won't let me go find him.”

CoCo's heart ached for her best friend. She gripped The Queen's bare shoulders. “Listen, girl, you know Knight won't let nothin' happen to you. Just trust that it's all gonna work out perfect tonight. Just perfect.”

The Queen whispered, “Perfect.”

“Now,” CoCo said, turning The Queen's shoulders so that she had to look down at the stage, “forget your troubles by lookin' at
that
shit. Girl, my pussy is so wet I could cause a tidal wave if I spread my legs.”

“I hope Jamal is thirsty tonight,” The Queen said, even though her voice was quivery like she was scared shitless.

CoCo giggled as she focused on contestant number four. Tall and skinny, with copper-brown skin, his uncircumcised dick arched to the left, the foreskin sort of just hanging there.

“Looks like an elephant's trunk,” The Queen said, trying to sound playful. “I like number five, personally.”

“Oh, yeah! He's definitely your type.”

The Queen cocked her neck. “What's my type?”

“Big and black.” CoCo giggled. “Like Duke and Knight.”

“Damn, he does look like Knight,” The Queen exclaimed, “but not as good looking, or as big.”

“Ain't many dudes who are six-seven,” CoCo said, “but he comes close. An' when he win that money, chicks gon' be all ova tryin' to play that big joystick.”

“I think he could be broke as hell an' still get the pussy.” CoCo laughed.

The Queen burst into tears. “I will just die if something happens to Knight.”

“Hush, girl!” CoCo held her. “Don't let none o' these muthafuckas see you cry.”