Free What's Really Hood!: A Collection of Tales From the Streets by Wahida Clark, Bonta, Victor Martin, Shawn Trump, Lashonda Teague

took the stage, he didn’t
     disappoint. He was young and hungry, already out to prove he was the G.O.A.T. He blazed “Rock the Bells” and “Radio,” made
     the chicks’ panties wet with “I Need Love” and the nigguhs amped for “I’m Bad,” but for some reason, the song that stuck in
     Wiz’s head was…
    Yo, Yvette… There’s a lot of rumors goin’ around
    It’s so bad, baby, you might have to skip town…
    All he could think of was Crystal’s face. He just couldn’t shake it, because he wondered why a chick like that would choose
     to throw her life away over a ten-dollar high. He thought of his mother, Moe and all the cats he had seen get swallowed by
     the blast. What the fuck was this shit he was selling—but then again, why should he even care?
Shit, somebody gotta sell it, might as well be me
, was the last thought he had beforehe was brought out of his thoughts. “Excuse me. Excuse me, but umm, do you know what time it is?” the sweet soft voice asked
     him as he looked into the face of an angel. She was a sexy, short five-two in a pink tennis skirt, baby tee and white-on-white
     Lottos. Her ass was juicy, his eyes could taste it, and her thighs were so thick, his dick was already jumping.
    “Time to show you where I’m parked,” Wiz smirked, winking his dimples.
    She giggled. “No, really. I can’t find my girlfriend and I really ain’t trying to miss the last PATH home.”
    “Oh, so you from New Yitty, huh? Where at?” he questioned, knowing damn well she wouldn’t see wherever it was until morning,
     if he could help it.
    “Harlem.” She eyed his four-finger ring, “Wiz Kid,” she smiled, “why they call you Wiz?”
    “My magic wand,” he joked, “I make dreams come true.”
    “Oh really?”
    “Would I lie?”
    She looked at him, licking her lips. “Probably, but I do too.”
    Wiz closed the distance between them to whisper in her ear. “Then you can trust me, ’cause I’m just like you. But believe
     me when I tell you, I got my car outside, and it’s ready to take you wherever you want to go.”
    “What about the last train?” She quivered, already seeing it pulling off without her.
    “I got you,” he replied, meaning it in more ways than one.
    She smiled her consent.
    “So, yo… what’s your name?”
    “Damn, Veronica, let a nigguh wake…” Wiz’s sentence drifted off incomplete as he gave in to the sensation of Veronica’s mouth
     on his dick. He looked down at her head between his legs and her lips wrapped around his dick, letting the pleasure curl his
     toes. They had gotten a room last night and wasted no time in fucking the shit out of each other, then they had both collapsed
     into a satisfied slumber. He woke up to her uptown head game that had his Newark ass twisted.
    “You like it, Daddy?” she purred between slurps. “Yeah, you like it, I bet your girl at home don’t do it like Veronica, do
     she?” She licked tantalizingly slowly up his eight-inch shaft and all around the ball of his head.
    “What girl at home?”
    She climbed on top of him, gripping his dick, then squatted on it with a squeal. “Stop… Stop lyin’… Dick this good don’t come
     without a leash,” she stuttered, long-dicking herself into a zone of pure feminine pleasure.
    Veronica’s pussy felt like warm quivery Jell-O to Wiz, and he had to curl up his insides so he wouldn’t bust off too soon.
     But when she reversed her position and rode him backward, just the sight of his dick disappearing inside her made him pound
     her furiously until they both came. She flopped down beside him, brushed the hair from her face with a satisfied smile and
     asked, “Don’t Veronica know how to treat a man in the mornin’?”
    “No doubt,” Wiz replied.
    She leaned in to kiss him, but he turned his face, so the kiss landed on his cheek. Wiz’s rule was, he never kissed a chick
     on the mouth, especially not one he hit the first night.
    Crystal lay on the mattress, staring