Chapter 17
21st Street looked the same way it did almost ten years ago. Dilapidated buildings stood gutted on the inside with gang tags and R.I.P. memorials covering their exteriors. My first apartment was even still standing. Back then, I thought I was living the life, but I’d come a long way: I went from The Cochran to the block and from the block to an expensive home on two acres of land.
There was a li’l nigga sitting in front of the old apartment I used to call home. He looked to be about thirteen or fourteen years-old, and the expression on his face was cold and emotionless. I could relate; you had to be tough to survive in the hood. Kindness was mistaken for weakness - and weakness could get you killed. You had to be a soldier, watching your back at all times and trusting no one. Your best friend could turn on you in an instant. Even your girl could decide to trade you in for a nigga with more. Money, cars, clothes, and bling determined your worth as a human being. If you had no money, you got no respect.
I wanted to tell that li’l nigga it would get better, but lies wouldn’t do him any good. The truth would catch up to him sooner or later – and judging by the look on his face, it already had.
“What’s up, Boss?” An unfamiliar female voice begged for my attention. “What you doin’ on the block?”
“I know you?” I questioned her identity. “This a bad time to be playin’ games with a nigga.”
“It’s me,” she said with a smile, as if that was going to jog my memory. “Mercedes.”
Gina’s youngest sister was all grown up. She looked a lot like her big sister - the old Gina, not the crackhead Gina. Their faces only slightly favored each other, but their bodies were eerily identical. I caught myself wondering if Mercedes could fuck likean>ld fuck Gina; it was hard to shake the thought with her wearing those skin-tight jeans. Her ass was begging for some attention, and a nigga like me was more than happy to oblige.
“What you been up to, girl?” I asked as if I really gave a damn. “You still in school?”
“I’m startin’ St. Louis U in the fall.”
“That’s something to be proud of.”
“Thank you,” she giggled. The girl was just as gullible as Gina was at her age; all a nigga had to do was toss a compliment her way - and he was in. I wasn’t sure what her plans were for that evening, but they were about to change.
“I can’t wait to move in the dorms. I need to put some distance between me and my family.”
“That bad?” I continued to pretend that I was interested in her family drama.
“I know you heard Gina’s cracked out now?”
“Yeah, I know.” I was guilty of supplying her with some of that crack. My fucked up logic forced me to believe that her getting it from me was better than her sucking some stranger’s dick for it.
“She gave birth to three beautiful kids, and she’s not a mother to any of them,” Mercedes went in on her sister again. “I don’t know what happened to her. When she was with you, she was a completely different person. She used to take such good care of herself.”
“Don’t none of us stay the same. We all change; some of us for the better, and some for the worse.”
Gina wasn’t my favorite person on earth, but I wasn’t about to stand there and badmouth her. Life had already taken enough from her.
I gave Mercedes my cell number and told her to call me if she needed anything. The ball was now in her court; if she wanted to get low one good time before she started college, she had my number. She was already curious; her eyes gave that much away. During our conversation, I kept catching her looking down at the bulge in my pants. She wanted to know how big my dick was and if I could really put it down the way her big sister had described - so I didn’t have to wait long; my cell rang before nightfall.
I was in my home gym lifting weights when Mercedes called, sweat covering my body from head to toe. I sent Pee-Wee to pick her up while I jumped in the shower. Once I was finished, I met li’l mama at my front door wearing nothinOnring no/span>g more than a pair of white silk Hugo Boss pajama bottoms. Chicks always told me how good the color white looked against my dark skin, so I used that shit to my advantage. Mercedes couldn't keep her eyes off a nigga.
“Boss, I’ve had a crush on you ever since I was a li’l girl,” Mercedes confessed as she walked up on me and pressed her soft chest up against my rock-hard stomach. “I been dreamin’ about this moment for a long time.”
She wanted it just as much as I did - maybe even more – and it was my Boss duty to give her what she’d been daydreaming about. She was one of those fake ass good girls, the ones who act all quiet and shy in public. Those were the biggest freaks. They didn’t talk about what they could do to a nigga; they just took a nigga to bed and fucked the taste out of his mouth. I could vibe with a bitch like that.
“Boss, I wanna be yo freak.” She put her lips on my chest and started to suck and lick my skin. “I’ll do anything you want me to do, Daddy - and I do mean anything.”
She reached down my pants and licked her lips as she pulled out my rock-hard dick. I could tell this bitch was a live one. She didn’t play games. My front door was still open, and she was down on her knees with a mouthful of dick - sucking like her life depended on it. Shorty didn’t give a fuck.
I let her suck me off for twenty minutes before I came in her mouth; she liked to swallow, so I gave her ass something to drink. I fucked her mouth the same way I used to fuck her sister’s; clearly, those head-giving skills ran in the family. When she got through sucking and slobbing, I was drained. I almost didn’t have the energy to fuck her, which meant she almost went to college without getting some of this Boss dick.
I woke up the next morning to the smell of pancakes, scrambled cheese eggs, and thick-cut maple bacon still sizzlin’ in the skillet. Suddenly, I had a case of déjà vu like a muthafucka; that was the exact same breakfast that Gina used to make me.
I rolled out of bed, threw on a pair of boxers, and headed downstairs towards the kitchen. There, I saw Mercedes in all her glory: she stood in front of the stainless steel stove that had never been used before, cooking breakfast for a nigga butt-ass naked.
“You are by far my favorite chef,” I joked, never taking my eyes off her ass for a second.
“Good morning, Boss.pan>mornBoss.p She turned around and smiled at a nigga like last night she got the best dick-down of her life. “How many pancakes you want?”
I couldn’t even concentrate on her question; I was too busy concentrating on her titties and hairless pussy. There was no way she was leaving without getting fucked again; my dick wasn’t letting it go down like that.
“You betta turn that off.”
“Why?” she asked in a very playful manner, her eyes damn near burning a hole through my boxer shorts.
“Cause I’m ‘bout to fuck the shit outta you.”
“Uhm...I like the sound of that.” She turned around quickly and cut off the burner, giving me a good view of her bare ass.
I walked up behind her and took one of her large breasts in each of my hands. She backed it up on me, pressing her soft ass up against my hard dick. We had each other going. I ran my right hand down her smooth, flat stomach until my fingers found what they were looking for. I then played with her pussy for about thirty seconds before she came; that was Gina’s spot, too.
I bent her over right there in my kitchen and shoved my dick inside her; she liked it rough, and I liked giving it to her that way. Her ass jiggled like Jello with every thrust. I was going to give her something to sit up at night and gossip about with her girlfriends at St. Louis U.
We went on like that for damn near two hours. I kept busting off inside her, and she would just suck my dick off and get me right back on hard again. Her sex game was on point.
I never did get to eat those pancakes, and I also never saw Mercedes again after our night together. She called a few times, but I dodged her. She had her story, but I didn’t have shit else for her. A few months later, she moved into the dorm - and I moved on to Kim.