Thug-A-Licious Read online

  “Yep,” Carmiesha finally said to Noojie. “I love me some babies. And you gotta admit Dre’s fine ass makes some real pretty ones.”

  Noojie waved her hand, then turned her beer bottle up and nodded. “Yeah. They pretty all right. But that don’t stop ’em from pissing and shitting and hollering for food. I just don’t see why that boy don’t wrap his damn dick up before he goes sticking it in every goddamn body. Tie a knot in that shit or something. Or shit, better yet, get his cum-string clipped and be done with all the drama. Don’t make no sense to keep making babies you know your ass don’t take care of.”

  Carmiesha didn’t say a word because Noojie was right. She knew how much Dre hated using condoms. He loved everything about female flesh, and he complained he didn’t get no real satisfaction from fucking into a glove.

  Carmiesha pulled a comb outta her handbag and started opening the braids in T-Roy’s hair. Lil’ Man probably needed his done too. She would have to shampoo both of their heads before she could comb through them, so she slipped out of her shoes and sat on the floor with Dre’s baby boy between her legs and went to work.

  Chapter 11

  College was wild. I was like a happy little white kid playing in a sandbox full of toys. Honeys, basketball, music, I indulged in all of that shit to the max. And oh yeah. I went to a couple of classes too. I wasn’t totally ass-out stupid.

  Ruthless Rap hooked me up with a local studio so I could still record for them, but they were grimy when it came to paying on time so I had started stealing again almost as soon as I hit the campus. How else was I gonna keep my pockets swole? One of my boys from Harlem hooked me up with this white dude who had a chop shop outside of town. I would roll out late at night, hot-wire a couple of Hondas, and stash ’em in his garage where he stored them until he could chop ’em up.

  One night when I was out there looking for a car to roll, I found out just how crazy some jawns can be. I had just busted out the back window of this Accord and unlocked the door, and as I leaned into the car to get to the wiring system I got busted.

  “Get up, niggah. And get your ass outta my damn car.”

  I turned around slow, cause this chick didn’t sound scared at all. Matter of fact, she sounded like she had control of the situation and was running things. As soon as I sat up I saw why.

  She was holding her piece on me. It looked like a .32, but I couldn’t be sure.

  “Hey, baby,” I said, looking down the barrel of that shit. Her hand was steady as hell. Not a shake in it. I looked up in her face and couldn’t help but grin. She had busted me, she had my ass on lock, and she was fine as hell. “Girl, put that shit down,” I said. “You got me, okay? And I’m sorry. But you ain’t gotta shoot a niggah. The only thing outta order here is your window, and I can fix that. I promise.”

  “You damn right you gone fix it, cause you picked the wrong damn car to steal tonight.”

  I mighta picked the wrong car, but she ended up being the right girl. I talked so much game to that evil chick until I ended up going inside her crib and boning her all night long.

  “Who’s Precious?” she beefed when she saw the big tattoo running down my inner arm.

  “My little sister,” I said and reached for her.

  “That’s the stupidest lie I ever heard!”

  She twisted her lips and gave me the evil eye. I was starting to think this girl was crazy. She was wild too. She rode me like she hadn’t been fucked in ten years. Made me eat her pussy for two hours! The chick was into whips and chains. Some dominatrix type of shit. She got on her knees and tooted it up, begging me to spank that ass. First with her hairbrush, and then with my Timb!

  “Beat me! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Now pull my hair, master! Harder! Wrap that shit around your fist, niggah, like you gone yank it the fuck out!”

  I drew the fuckin’ line when she asked me to bang her head on the floor. I kept telling her that I wasn’t into hurting females, yo. That just wasn’t my thang. By the time she let me outta her house my dick was sore, and I was wondering if I prolly shoulda just let her call the cops on me, or shoot me in the back with her gun.

  Getting caught by a jawn didn’t even make me wanna stop stealing cars, but just to be safe I put my gambling skills to work too. I bet on all kinds of games, knowing in my nuts exactly when some points was gonna get shaved. Somebody in the athletics department got wind of my luck with the bookies and started hating on me, so I had to do that shit on a low level for real. Playing ball was my whole reason for being there, and I wasn’t stupid enough to put my scholarship on the line by getting caught stealing or gambling or failing my classes or some bullshit. I got around that by using whatever jawn I was boning to place my bets for me, and I studied just enough to keep my grades just out of the danger zone. And when chemistry and calculus started getting in the way of my groove and I couldn’t find a chick to write my papers or do my homework, I changed my major to physical fitness and sports, which was a whole lot easier to handle. Especially for a wild-ass hooper like me.

  I didn’t think about Harlem too much that year, except when I was in the city rapping or shooting music videos or giving interviews with Vibe or Source. Muddah called every now and then, and I dialed her digits a few times too, but shit just felt funny when I talked to her. We’d sat together at the funeral they had for T.C. and Miss Lady, and all I could do was stare at a spot on the floor while folks went crazy with the hollering and the music and Muddah broke down and cried over Miss Lady like it was her own mama laying up there.

  Both caskets were closed, and that was a good thing cause I couldn’ta made it through the services if I had to look down on their bodies again. As it was, I had to hold on to Muddah and let her cry for the both of us while I concentrated on making that cold hard spot inside of me even colder and harder.

  So I kept my mind in Syracuse. Pimp was locked up not too far away up in Watertown, and every time I stole a car or won a hot bet, I made sure I tore him off a few greenboys and sent them in the mail. I even went to see him a few times that first year, and I hated to say it, but I was glad it was him locked up and not me. A niggah like me had to have room to run. The penitentiary had too fuckin’ many hardheaded convicts in one damn place for me. And no pussy in sight. Nope. It wasn’t for me. Them niggahs just didn’t make my kind of noise.

  But Pimp seemed to be chill with it. He was always cool and relaxed when I rolled up on him. He walked around with a smile on his face and got mad respect from the inmates like he was the king hustler of the joint.

  One time when I was visiting him he told me they had pulled him down for questioning about an old case.

  “What case was that?” I asked. We was walking through the picnic area and Pimp was checking out other niggah’s visiting bitches like it was an open meat market.

  He laughed. “Man, you know what fuckin’ case. They know I was there, but they can’t prove that shit. They tried to cut a deal with me, though. Said I could prolly get probation if I gave ’em a name. They wanted me to tell ’em who was down with me. And who pulled the trigger.”

  My mouth got dry as shit. Pimp mighta been cool with spending the night in a joint with fifty thousand other niggahs, but I was counting on going home to some hot pussy and real food tonight.

  “So what you tell them?”

  He laughed like a motherfucker. “C’mon, man! Closed lips! You know me! I ain’t no bitch-ass snitch. I ain’t tell them a motherfuckin’ thang. But your boy Rome got shanked cold over in Greenhaven for having a big fuckin’ mouth. That niggah got his tongue took and his eyes poked too. So he can’t tell nobody shit neither. Besides, I’m gettin outta this joint in a year regardless. So I got this, baby. You keep shootin’ them videos, man, and posin’ on them magazines. I don’t need nobody to keep me company while I do my time.

  “Yo, man,” he said, grinning. “Remember them hooks we busted that time we got locked up in Brooklyn? If you trapped doin’ time in the back of your mind and you feeling like you just ain’t s
hit, join the click!”

  I laughed. “Hell yeah!”

  “If you trapped in the grind in the back of your mind and you feeling like you don’t exist, join the click!”

  Years back we’d gotten locked up in a pissy-ass jail cell at Brooklyn’s central booking. The cops had busted us for selling hot designer bags up on Utica Avenue for some cat who figured we was too young to get knocked if we got caught, but two fat white po-pos said fuck how young we was, and threw us in a cell for damn near three days until they could contact Noojie to come get us out. We was just kids, but we spent the whole two days and nights freestyle rapping and entertaining grown-ass inmates with our lyrics, and when Pimp started spittin’ that old shit I smiled at the memory and I went ahead and joined in with him like we’d just got down on that shit yesterday.

  Come get acquainted with niggahs who never fake it

  We ’bout to be paid in full for the perfect pictures we painting

  So before you get ta hatin’ just know these blickers is banging

  I’m a beast/All beast

  This is more than just entertainment!

  This is

  My pain/my pleasure/my fury and my frustration

  This my life these motherfuckers be puttin’ up in these cages, homey!

  Yeah I’m a boss/You a bitch/Ain’t no relation, homey!

  That shit just not addin’ up into this equation, homey!

  Yeah I done held 9’s/did a little jail time

  No niggahs/no money

  Couldn’t holla at the bailbonds

  But never bitch/never snitch/cuz I held mine

  Do I feel as though they competition?

  Niggah hell nah!

  So if you trapped doin’ time in the back of your mind and you feeling like you just ain’t shit, join the click!

  If you trapped in the grind in the back of your mind and you feeling like you don’t exist, join the click!

  By now convicts and their visitors was watching us and feeling us. COs too. Trying not to nod their heads to our beat, but knowing they was digging our flow. I dapped my cuz out, showing him mad love. I didn’t have shit to worry about. I was down with the ’Licious Lovers. Known for the closed lips.

  Besides, Pimp was a for-real niggah. He’d had my back my whole life. And I was grateful for that shit too.

  “But you can do something for ya cuz while he up in here,” he said, grinning.

  “Something like what?”

  “Damn niggah!” he laughed. “You act like I’ma ask you to go on a trailer visit and toss Fat Freddy’s salad! Since you so concerned about how quiet I do my time, I thought you might wanna help me stay chill while I’m here.”

  I nodded. I heard the clock ticking, and I knew what time it was. “What you need, ak?”

  Pimp stopped and elbowed me. “Y’all got a lot of them dumb-ass white girls in that college, right?”

  “Hell, yeah. Them hoes working harder to get some black dick then they working to get that diploma. Why?”

  “I got me a little side hustle goin’ but I’m running outta fresh faces, nah mean? You help me get a few of them stupid white chicks on my visitors list, and I can keep my weight up.”

  “What they gotta do, man?”

  “Use that white pussy!” Pimp said like I shoulda known. “This the fuckin’ pen, Thug. They gotta carry a package through inside that white pussy and come give Sugar Pimp some motherfuckin’ sugar!”

  I got it. Pimp was runnin’ a powder game on these convicts for good money, cause he sure wasn’t using nothing other than weed himself.

  “I’ll hook you up with a little somethin’,” I told him.

  “Do that. You heard anything from Smoove?” he asked, changing the subject as we walked past a corrections officer, who nodded, giving him silent respect.

  “Yeah. He still chillin’ at the crib with Noojie. Last time I spoke to him he was complaining about the game. He said it wasn’t fun no more without us. He’s thinking about joining the military, though. I think he said the Marines.”

  After checking Pimp out I went back to school. I tried not to think about the cops digging around in what we’d done in T.C.’s Place. Without Pimp, they didn’t have shit on me. And he wasn’t telling. Especially after I rounded up six dumb-ass white chicks who’d been flossing up in my face for months, trying to get me to fuck ’em.

  Pimp had shit hooked up with his connect where the dude met the girls in different spots all over Syracuse. They’d stuff their pussies with ballons full of product, and go in to see Pimp like they was just another silly upstate white girl who was wide open on black dick. They’d wait for the right time to go in the bathroom and dig up their pussies, then stick the balloons in their mouths and come out and give Pimp a real good kiss.

  At first I had to lay pipe on them. White girls tripped me out. They’d curse and clown and turn their backs on their own parents over some black dick in a minute. It wasn’t long before I had them strung out on my pipe action, and ready to do anything I told them to. I fucked ’em, but I didn’t suck ’em. I couldn’t get with that raw pink fish market action. I liked my fish fried. The hardest part was keeping my game outta the sistahs’ faces. If one of them even suspected me of having a thing for white chicks, they’d all turn against me and my game would run bone dry. There’d be no more chocolate cookies for me, and I just couldn’t risk that.

  But Pimp was so good with his white-girl game that after a while they didn’t need me no more. They was doing that shit strictly for Pimp, and for what he promised to lay on them when the state cut him loose in just under a year.

  By the time my first school year was over and the summer rolled around, I was itching for a break and ready to get out of Syracuse. I’d been making runs back and forth to the studio to lay my Ruthless tracks, but wasn’t nothing really pulling me toward Harlem on a personal level, though. Matter fact, if it wasn’t for Muddah and Noojie I prolly wouldn’ta gone nowhere other than the studio for a long time. The streets held too many memories and the most recent ones coulda killed me if I let them.

  So when it came time to clear out of the dorms, I hopped in a black Acura with this cute little honey named Passion I’d been boning, and burned concrete down to Albany where she shared a house with her older sister.

  Passion was wild. She was the first chick I’d been with who liked to fuck in strange places. I’d tapped that ass in the girl’s bathroom in every fast food restaurant we could find. I waxed it in dressing rooms at department stores at the mall too. She’d take a bunch a clothes in there to try on, and we’d be in there getting our funk on. I did her in the library and at a roller-skating rink.

  I found out by mistake that Passion was into group sex too.

  We’d gone to a Fourth of July barbecue with some of her girls, and later on that night we jetted across town with two other couples to keep the party rolling at one of their apartments. The niggah on the CD player was going back and forth between a few Game cuts, some Lil’ Wayne, and even threw some Pac in the mix too. We danced and smoked a little chronic, and I was sucking on some Thug Passion when the heat started rising.

  The apartment wasn’t no more than a studio. A plain room with a queen bed and a lumpy little couch, and a half-assed kitchen across the way. I was sitting on the bed with Passion when she started getting frisky. She took the smoke out my hand and started kissing me, pushing me backward until I was stretched out flat.

  “Uhm,” she said, smacking her lips and running her tongue all over my chin. “You ain’t hardly even looked at this pussy today, Thug! What? You too wore out to keep your girl satisfied?”

  I chuckled. This jawn was giving me a run for my money. She stayed so hot I was gonna have to start walking behind her to mop up all that nookie-juice she was dripping all over the floor.

  I sucked her tongue into my mouth and played with it. She started grinding on my dick, waking it up, and my hands automatically slid up her firm brown thighs and slipped under her skirt, cupping
her soft ass.

  “Yeah,” she whispered in my ear laughing. “That’s what I’m talking about. Show this ass some love up in here tonight.”

  Other people was in the room with us, but since she didn’t care I didn’t either. She reached back and lifted the back of her skirt all the way up. Her light-brown mounds rose like soft mountains in the air, and I slid my finger under the strap of her thong and moved it to the side.

  I dug my fingers all up in her wet pussy. I entered her from the back as she worked that ass like we were all by ourselves. She was sucking on my ears, sticking her hot tongue inside them and wiggling it to the same beat my fingers was moving to inside her.

  She sat up a little and lifted her arms, taking her shirt off in the darkness. Her titties were small but firm, and her nipples were jet-black little knobs that had my mouth watering. I pulled her down to me and grabbed one with my lips, sucking it until she squirmed. I was loving it cause her nipples was so different than any other nipples I’d sucked. I liked that about women. I could spend days and nights touching and licking and sucking their bodies. All of them were holding basically the same thing, but it was always packaged in a unique way.

  A few minutes later me and Passion were rolling on the bed. She’d unbuckled my belt and took my dick out, and her soft little hand was jerking my thang like a pro. She had a perfect rhythm going and I played in her pussy as we masturbated each other.

  I was surprised when I felt something soft cuddling up beside me on the bed. Passion’s friend Tyra giggled and turned her back to me. I’d been checking her ass out in those Tommy Hilfiger shorts all day, and now she turned away from me on her side, and pressed her juicy ass against me and made room for the niggah she was rolling with to get next to her on the bed.