Free Thirsty by Mike Sanders Page B

ass God. That nigga actually believed that he was Mr. Fuckin’ Untouchable!
After Cross had left the park, D.C. and I stayed and hollered at a few girls for about an hour or so before heading to my sister’s place to give her the rest of her money from the Embassy Suites robbery. I’d finally sold the jewels we’d taken from those football niggas and we ended up with a nice stack.
Me and D.C. left the park with a few numbers from some bad bitches, but D.C. had the most important number of them all in his pocket. It was a number that we would undoubtedly put to use in the near future. It was the girl’s number from the BMW.
CHAPTER FIVE JUSTICE
    I
t had taken Monk a few days to get rid of the jewelry that they had taken from the football players but he ended up breaking me off real proper-like just as he’d promised. I had to admit, I was thoroughly satisfied with my share. I was thinking that maybe I could sit my ass down for a minute and possibly find a real job for once.
    The money I’d accumulated from the streets would’ve lasted long enough for a sistah to go to school and acquire some kind of bankable skills. Besides, all I knew how to do was find a way to get something for nothing. I had no idea what field of work those skills would be useful in other than some type of criminal activity. The only legitimate job I’d ever had was at Neiman Marcus as a cashier years earlier. However, when Sapphire had gotten stopped by security with over two thousand dollars worth of clothing and a receipt showing that she’d paid only fifty dollars for it my days as a cashier had come to an end. That had been before I’d gotten a taste of how sweet and how addictive that street money could be. Needless to say, I hadn’t done anything legit since.
    That same day Monk had come through to break me off Carlos had called and asked if he could “stop by for a few.” I was no fool; I already knew what time it was. He wanted some punanny. I don’t know why I kept falling into that trap. It was as if Carlos had some sort of sexual spell over me because I could never refuse him. The dick had me whipped! No matter how hard I tried to resist him, I just couldn’t do it.
    I told him he could come over but only for a brief moment because I had some things to take care of. He knew I was lying and didn’t really have anything to do because I could see that damn smile on his face all the way through the phone.
    After showering and lotioning myself in apricot body oil, Carlos’ favorite scent, I decided it was time to tighten up—literally. I reached beneath my sink in the bathroom way behind the Massengils, tampons, and other feminine items and grabbed my secret weapon. I called it my “Rebirth” because after using a teaspoon of it with my douche, the kitty would be almost as tight as it was when I’d come into the world. This coochie tightening cream had by far been my most rewarding purchase from my favorite on-line sex shop.
    With a few “Oooh, Daddy, you so big,” “Ouch, you hurtin’ me,” and “It’s been a minute since I’ve done it,” a man’ll think he struck gold. The best thing about it was the fact that it was tasteless and odorless. Vinegar and water didn’t have shit on this concoction. Yep, tricked many niggas with this one!
    After becoming “born again,” so to speak, I threw on the tightest pair of gym shorts I could find and donned a wife beater. I didn’t even waste time putting on panties or a bra because I knew I wouldn’t have them on long anyway. I let my still damp hair hang loosely over my shoulders and I put a thin coat of gloss on my lips before taking a seat on my living room sofa to await Carlos’ arrival.
    I curled my feet up under my butt and clicked on the television with the remote. I tried to get my mind off Carlos and that good lovin’ that was on its way over, but my coochie seemed to have a mind of its own as it continuously throbbed with anticipation. I had to place a pillow