6. Joker
Joker
That night
S omebody was out here fucking with us. That body being dropped at our warehouse let it be known that it was time to move the drugs to a different location. If they ever decided to run up in there, they wouldn’t get shit but football equipment. Niggas found it hard to catch me slipping ’cause I always stayed ten steps ahead.
One of our men was snatched off the street and placed at our door for a message, but I wasn’t certain what that message was supposed to be. I didn’t have beef with anyone in the city that I knew of. That only meant that someone was trying to move in on our territory. That shit wasn’t happening. Them dropping that body off just made me be on my toes even more. Whoever is playing with me better know what the fuck they doing.
“Joker?” Monica called out my name, pulling me from my thoughts.
The only reason the bitch was in my shit right now was ’cause she was waiting for me downstairs when I made it home.
“What?” I looked up from the bed and she was standing there in this black thong without a top on. Monica had the body that all women craved but didn’t know that men preferred natural. Her shit didn’t jiggle like it was supposed to. It just didn’t do something to me like a natural body would. Most of the time we had sex, she had to suck my dick to get it hard.
“You were zoned out. I was trying to show you these new panties I just got,” Monica replied.
“What’s so special ’bout ’em?” They looked like a pair of thongs that she went and purchased from Walmart or something. Soon as that left my lips, she turned around, and I saw Joker in diamonds resting at the crack of her ass.
“You like ’em?” she asked over her shoulder, sticking her tongue out.
Getting up from bed, I went over to where she stood and turned her toward the bed. Sliding my finger underneath her panty line, I roughly tugged, and the panties ripped, dropping to the floor.
“Damn, I ain’t think you was gon’ do all that. Maybe I should’ve bought a pair in every color.”
“Just shut up,” I told her and covered her mouth with my hand. With my free hand, I slipped my dick out through the hole in my briefs and glided it up and down her slit. Her juices coated my dick, leaving a trail from the head to my pelvis bone. Shawty was ready.
My mind drifted back to shawty from the other day when I saw her at the stadium. It was like every time I saw her, she got finer and finer. Wine ain’t have shit on lil mama. It was driving me insane how she kept curving a nigga and shit. Getting her was gon’ be a challenge, but I wasn’t gon’ stop ’til I got her lil ass.
My dick slipped up in Monica before I knew it without protection. I was tripping. My shit glided in and out of her and she sucked me back in like a vacuum. This was the first time I’d ever gone inside her without protection. The main reason I held myself from doing so was ’cause I felt like rawing pussy was for ya bitch, and I damn sure wasn’t tryna drop a load off in her.
“Ooooh, yeah,” Monica moaned and matched me stroke for stroke. “Right there, daddy.” Her grip on the sheets tightened. Gripping her by the waist, I shifted a bit to the right side and when Monica looked back at me, I could’ve sworn I saw shawty’s face on her body.
“Fuck,” I groaned.
My thrusts sped up and I pounded the shit out of Monica’s pussy. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.
I could feel my release nearing. I went to ease out her pussy to jack off and catch my own seeds, but she sucked me right back down in her shit. Monica reached around and clutched my ass cheek, pushing me deeper as if I wasn’t deep enough. Before I knew it, my dick was spitting in her pussy. I shoved her back off me and she turned around, beaming up at me. Bitch thought she was slick as fuck.
“Why you mugging?” she asked me, and I had to keep myself from smacking the shit out of her.
“You be thinking you’re fucking slick,” I responded and trekked over to my nightstand where my phone was resting. Tapping it, I saw that it was only nine fifteen, so I had plenty of time to run out to the store and grab her ass a Plan B ’cause I wasn’t taking the chance of her being pregnant.
“I was just enjoying the dick.”
“Yeah, and now you ’bout to enjoy this fucking Plan B down ya throat.”
“I’m not taking no Plan B. Are you crazy?” She sat up in bed with a frown.
“You gon’ take what the fuck I tell you to take,” I told her and went into the bathroom to clean myself up.
As I grabbed a rag out the linen closet and wet it with soap and water, my mind instantly went back to the mistake I just made. Monica thought she was ’bout to get a pay day off me. That shit wasn’t happening. If she wanted a baby, she better go out there and find a sucker that was willing to give her one. This shit wasn’t it. I ain’t want her attached to me for the next eighteen years.
Pulling myself from my thoughts, I tossed the rag in the dirty clothes hamper inside the linen closet and exited the bathroom. Monica was no longer in the room and neither was her belongings. She’d taken her phone off the nightstand on the opposite side I was on. The only thing that was left behind was those ripped panties. If one asked me, she could’ve taken that shit with her as well. She could run all she wanted to. I was gon’ hunt her ass down and force that pill down her throat.
Opening my drawer, I grabbed a pair of gray sweatpants and a t-shirt then tossed it on. Swiping my phone and card off the nightstand, I slipped it into my pocket. My gun slid from the nightstand as well and was tucked firmly in my waistline. Treading out my room, I hopped on the elevator and took it down to the first floor.
This bitch really hightailed it out of there. There’s no telling how many times she wanted me to slip up and do that shit. That’s the exact reason why I didn’t trust people now. They always had ulterior motives.
“Wassup, Joker,” Mason said when I stepped out the door.
“Sup,” was the only response I gave him and hopped into my ride. Shutting the door, I peeled away from the curb. My blood was boiling. I was more so mad at myself for fucking up. Monica’s ass was ’bout to take more than one pill fucking with me, ’cause I had to make certain that she wasn’t gon’ pop up pregnant. This shit right here was why I needed to stop fucking with her altogether. If Ma knew that I was sliding into Monica and had no plans of having a baby by her, she’d slap my ass into next week.
Ma never had the best men in her life. It all started after my no-good ass daddy walked out on her for another woman he’d been cheating on her with for only God knows how many years. She completely fell apart. She may have hid her tears, but all the time she spent locked up in her bedroom, I knew she was bawling her eyes out. Once I became the man in the city, her track record changed with men. No man was allowed out with my mama if I felt like they weren’t good enough for her, and with the standards I held for her, they had to be really up there to even get within inches of her. Everyone knew I didn’t play ’bout Fatima. That was my heart right there. She’d done all she could to raise me, and I made sure that once I was on, I took damn good care of that woman. She didn’t want for nothing and never will, even if I leave this world before her.
Pulling up to Walmart, I hopped out the truck and entered on the pharmacy side. “Hey, how are you doing?” the elderly woman with a Walmart vest on, standing at the door, asked.
“Sup,” I replied and turned to the right.
I went over to the feminine products and stopped right in front of the Plan B pills. They had some off brand up there on the shelf next to ’em, but I wanted the real deal to make sure the shit worked. I raked at least four boxes off the shelf and strolled toward the cash registers. There were a few people standing in front of me, so I had to wait in line for my turn. When I looked up, I saw shawty from the restaurant being pulled toward the exit by this old ass security guard. How he had her in the first place beats the hell out of me. She could’ve easily tripped his ass up or outran him. Nigga looked like he was weeks away from being in a wheelchair. Hell, even his deathbed.
He pulled her into the security room and shut the door, which meant that she had to have been in here stealing.
“Number eight is open,” one of the associates called out, gaining my attention. I stepped in front of the self-checkout register and scanned my items, then pulled my card out my pocket and swiped it.
By the time I was heading to the door, the police were hauling her lil ass out of the room in handcuffs.