Читать книгу Love and a Gangsta - Erick S. Gray - Страница 9

2

The biggest troublemaker you’ll ever face.

Watches you from the mirror every morning…

Omar

Pussy was the only thing on my mind. True story. Four years of not getting any, and I was thirsty for my boo-boo. My sexual desires got even stronger within the week of my release. I thought about my girl everyday, all day. She was the first and last thing on my mind when I woke up and went to sleep at nights. She was the only reason why I survived in here for the last four years.

America came to see my like twice a month, and I loved her for that. The trip upstate was about seven hours to Franklin Correctional facility in Malone, New York. Sometimes she did the drive alone, or took the greyhound to come see me. America always came to see me looking her finest. I really hated to see her leave.

Her visiting me was a gift and a curse. Seeing my woman looking so fine and sexy was a true gift. I couldn’t do nothing but give her a hug, a kiss, and hold hands across the table. My dick was so hard, it felt like it wanted to escape from my pants and rip into her warm flesh. But there was no excessive display of affection during visits, my curse for being here.

Pictures of America, her songs, and letters plastered my cell wall. Guards and cellmates envied me because I got at least three letters every week. Sometimes a poem or a song came from America. Every night before lights out, I read the soothing words she had written, fantasizing about warm days and long nights with her.

I would stare at a picture of the two of us together taken at Coney Island in the spring of ‘98, against the background of a painting of Jay Z holding up cash. We were young and looked cozy like we had no care. I was hugged up on her and both our smiles were ear to ear. The picture cost me five bucks but being locked up, it proved to be worth even more. It was the best of the good times. I was eighteen back then.

I remembered her attitude being a little rude when we first met. I thought she was cute. She was wearing lose fitted gray sweats, white T’s and her feet looked small in a pair of white and blue Adidas. Her hair was in two long pigtails. The scent she had on made my heart do sprints. I saw her coming out of the store and couldn’t let her just walk by me and not attempt to kick it to a girl so beautiful. America was trying to be reluctant, trying to spit fire as if she wasn’t interested.

Up in my bunk, I continued peering at her photos. My abdominal muscle tightened as I reminisced over the first time we had sex. She was a virgin. I had been with lots of girls, but was intimate from the start. When it came to America, like she said, I made love to her. Before that I was just fucking girls.

America was different. My uncle, Ray gave me the keys to his basement apartment. Uncle Ray was a hustler like me and was always telling me how America was too fine a woman to ever let go.

“Boy, you treat her like the wonderful woman she is, and she’ll treat you like the king you are. Always respect each other.”

Uncle Ray was seventeen years my senior and he knew a lot about life. He was in and out of jail since I was in diapers. He had mad respect on the streets.

I brought America to my uncle’s crib on a Friday night. She was the most nervous fifteen-year old I’d ever seen. We had been together for six weeks, and this sexual yearning I had for her was suffocating me.

She was wearing a denim skirt and pink halter. Her hair was in two long pigtails. My uncle’s comfortable, one-bedroom bachelor’s pad, with big screen television, and a great stereo system, made a good impression. She became less tense once she realized we would be alone. Besides a leather couch, and his bedroom set, he had no furniture since he was hardly home.

Uncle Ray had a king size bed in the bedroom. A mirror and drawers stood above a burgundy area rug with gold trim was spread out on the parquet floor. My uncle wasn’t much of a decorator, but his place was nice enough to make America fill comfortable in.

I led America to the bedroom. She quietly followed. Then she touched me, stared at me with her soft brown eyes and smiled. She knew what time it was. I had made it all clear. I never wanted to mislead her in anything.

“Are you nervous?”

“A little,” she giggled.

Her soft touch had me hard. I caressed her gently when we were near the bed. She felt relaxed in my arms. But I wanted to make sure she was ready for what was about to happen.

“Are you sure you’re ready, America?”

Her eyes took on an aura of innocence, telling me that I’d have to lead and she’d follow me into our first sexual episode. I wouldn’t have it any other way. It was a honor to be her first, but what I hoped for was to be her last. She smiled faintly and nodded.

America sat next to me on the bed. I moved slowly, but lust wanted me to tear off her clothes, skip foreplay and fuck the shit out of her. Slow down my beating heart, she was different and I had to take my time.

I moved my hand up and down her smooth open thigh. My dick pulsated in my pants. I pressed my lips against hers and kissed her good. Our tongues tangled, wrestling as our breathing became one. I moved my hand further up her skirt until I felt the wetness of her panties. She flinched but didn’t pull away.

She stared at me for a moment. I was wondering what was on her mind. She remained silent and I prayed that she wanted to continue. My dick was harder than the man of steel and if I couldn’t get pussy, then I’d be in for a very bad night. Fortunately, she wanted to continue. America positioned herself on her back and braved a smile.

“I want you to be my first, Omar. I love you and I trust you,” she softly whispered.

I pulled up her skirt, and removed her panties unhurriedly. She reclined with her head amongst the plush pillows on the bed. Her breath became louder her round breast smiled at me while her curly pussy hairs, barely covered moistened lips. They seemed clamped together tightly like a bank vault after closing. I definitely knew she was pure now.

I moved my lips closer to her honey brown skin, kissing her gently starting with her belly button. She moaned a little. My hands slid up her chest, she cupped her hands over mine, and pressed them to her breasts. Her tits tasted like soft fruits.

Spreading her legs wider, I began kissing her inner thighs. Her breathing turned into moaning when my tongue and lips neared her pussy.

I don’t normally be eating out pussy, but I was willing to go all the way with her. She trusted me and was giving me something she couldn’t take back.

I gradually opened up the lips between her young thighs with my tongue and mouth. With my head nestled between her warm thighs my tongue began piercing into her, and she released enough juices for me to drink.

“Ooh… Ah… Ooh yes this feels real good oh… Oh yes!”

America gripped my head and held it in place. With her thighs clamped around my ears, she dug her nails into my shoulders and screamed, “Jesus Christ…Oh God yes!”

I looked up and smiled when I saw her beautiful eyes rolled back in her head. I smiled when all I saw was pure ivory. My dick never felt so hard I thought it was about to rip through my boxers. America looked like she was still in la-la land after my licking. I stood up dropped my jeans, soon afterwards my boxers fell. I stared at America in all her glory and held my big black dick.

America’s eyes were wide when she saw my erection ready for action. She was beautiful, and untouched. And my dick was extra fucking hard with just that thought alone.

“You got condoms right?”

“Yeah.”

I went into my pants pocket on the floor and removed a box of Magnums. I hastily tore the box open, removing a condom and ripped it open. Then I rolled the condom back on my thickness, and climbed atop positioning myself between her inviting thighs. She was tight I tried to slide right into her, but it wasn’t happening. America gasped and grabbed my shoulders. I held my weight off of her, and continued to ease inches of myself into her. It was pleasurable but it was work.

“Ouch ugh… Oh shit! Omar slower… Oh baby, baby please, it’s too big!”

Her eyes were tightly shut while her nails dug into my shoulders. I pushed a few more inches into her, slowly opening her bit by bit. I could feel her juices all over me. It took an hour of slow pushing before finally getting into my rhythm. A few more minutes and her hot, tight love-box caused an immense explosion like I never felt before. We didn’t have sex for another two months after the first time. America proved to be worth the wait.

Lying in my bunk staring at her photo thinking about the first time we had sex got me hard. My hand was in my pants holding my thick, pulsating dick. I was slowly jerking-off and staring at America’s picture.

“You ‘bout to see home soon, and be in some pussy again, and you in here beatin’ off. Go head wit’ that, Soul,” my cellmate, Rahmel interjected.

“Yo, this shit feel like a fucking dream, son. I can’t believe a nigga’s ‘bout to go home,” I said.

“Soul, you gettin’ your freedom again, and your woman stayed by your side and held you down for four years. You’re a blessed man. What’s the first thing you gonna do when you get out?”

“Shit, I’m gonna take my woman and fuck her till my dick can’t work anymore. And then I’m gonna wake up and do it all over again. I gotta make up for long lost time.”

Rahmel laughed.

“You think I’m joking. I’m backed up. Shit, I’m ‘bout to put in some work.”

Rahmel took a seat on the bottom of my cot. He hunched over with his elbows pressed against his knees, fingers clasped together, and looked at me with some importance deep in his gaze.

“You got a second chance at life. Soul, I envy you, man. I got another five years behind these walls. Been denied parole three times because of violence in my past. The system doesn’t think I’m ready to be released early, ain’t that some shit… white man judging my rehabilitation, like he God and shit. Being in here, they take everything from you. Shit, Soul, I miss the touch, the smell, the feel, and even the taste of a woman. My wife died when I was five years in this hellhole, they wouldn’t even let me attend her damn funeral. They said I was a threat to society. Now my daughter’s gone, her grandmother had some nerve, moving my little girl to Texas. How she gonna take the only thing a man has left, and move her a thousand miles away. I know I’ve told you this before, but I feel you need to hear it again, Soul.”

“I guess I can take you one more night, Rah.”

“In here you got nothing, but out there, you got everything to look forward to. I spent fifteen years trying to be a father to my daughter behind these walls… Impossible. I missed my daughter’s first steps, her first words, and her first day of school, cause I’m contained miles away from her like some fuckin’ animal allowing for our children to make the same mistake we made.”

“I hear you Rah.”

“Do right by America, Soul. And don’t come back to this place. You got many talents, take advantage of them. And you’re fortunate to have a love one waiting for you behind these walls. Don’t make her do time with you ever again. She doesn’t deserve it. Every strong black woman deserves her man by her side, not on the inside. It’ll be hard Soul, but don’t be discouraged. You’re gonna have some challenges come your way… Challenges make life interesting. Overcoming them makes life meaningful. Take that with you when you leave this place and please stop jerking off now.”

I nodded. Rahmel got so deep that when he talked to you, you just shut up and listen. An O.G from South Jamaica, Rahmel was in his mid thirties, and well respected wherever he went. He used to kick knowledge to his little brother, Omega and me, history, current events, politics, and science. I mean shit that you thought he didn’t know anything about he would lecture it to us once in a while. But when beef came around, you saw a different side of him then. It was the side of him that got him locked up.

Back in the fall of 1990 Rahmel caught two bodies on Guy R. Brewer and South Road. One was a cop. I was ten when he was sentenced. In the beginning, Omega took it hard we both looked up to Rahmel. He used to call me his little brother and always treated me like family.

“Soul spit a lil’ sump’n for me, since this being your last night in here,” he said.

“No doubt, what you wanna hear?”

“Sump’n to keep me up,” he smiled.

“Yo, yo, yo, as I sit alone and try to keep my head above the sky, insecurity got my mind blackened like a soulless child. I do my best to keep my head above the rest, when I feel too stressed, I break down and cry like the rest. Sometimes I feel my life is lost, everything I achieve comes wit’ a cost. Wanna ball my fist and come storming out with full force, show the world that I’m much more than a ghetto ugly child. Got a few friends that I trust, while the rest I give dap to and keep tabs on the most. Determination in these eyes you see, bleed, seek richness and greatness with every breath that I breathe. My life was ignorant in my past, sex, drugs, and uneducated, I see why the white man laugh. My heart dies every time I get disrespected by my own kind, wish it was peace back on the block, when these fools’ attitude is misery and just don’t give a fuck, make this buck and shoot everything up! I wish the Lord’s hands could come down and wash me from all my sins, but I feel the power of the devil sometimes possessing me within. Telling me it feels good son, damn, kill them niggas and hit them tight skins again. It’s outrageous how some of us became so weak within!”

“Yeah, preach young blood, preach on. Follow your heart, believe in yourself and Him and the Lord will lead you from there,” Rahmel said giving me dap. “Look out for my brother, Omega once you get home.”

“True indeed, Rah. I’ll make good on my word.”