Deep Throat Diva (6 page)

“New customer?” I ask her, knowingly.

She nods. “Yeah, we met a few weeks back. Her daughter goes to my son’s school.”

Very good
, I think, smiling.
Keep them dollars coming in
. She smiles and says hello to everyone. Shuwanda introduces her as Robyn. I give her a warm welcome; introduce myself as the owner, then bring my attention back to Bianca. She quickly changes the subject, asking if we’ve set a wedding date, yet. I tell her no.

Robyn asks, “How long have you been engaged?”

“Almost four years,” I tell her. I can almost see her thinking how crazy that is. “I know. It’s been an extra long engagement.”

“Oh, I totally understand. James and I have been engaged for almost three years. But we
finally
set a date.”

“Good for you,” I say. “Is that him sitting over there?”

She nods, beaming.

Shuwanda lowers her voice and says, “Giiiirrl, he’s fine.”

“Thanks,” she says, smiling. “I really have to admit, I got me a damn good man.”

Alicia walks by, ear hustling as usual. She stops, puts one hand on her wide hip, and says, “Chile, and a good man is hard to come by; especially one that doesn’t come with a bunch of unnecessary baggage and bullshit. Or one who wants to cheat on you or beat you.”

Shuwanda adds, “Or wants you to be his momma.”

“Or is too damn emotionally needy,” Alicia adds.

“Wellllllll,” I say, raising my hand in the air. “Sounds like ya’ll trying to get service started up in here. ’Cause you preaching.”

Robyn’s smile widens as she retrieves her phone and begins to text. “Thank God, I don’t have to deal with any of that. I am truly blessed.”

“Amen to that,” Bianca cosigns.

A few minutes later, I peep her “blessing” getting up and walking over toward us. Everyone practically stops what they’re doing, drooling as he makes his way over. My eyes are fixed on him as well, but I quickly shift them when he locks his eyes on mine. He speaks to everyone, and we all speak back.

Robyn digs in her bag and pulls out a set of keys. “By the time you get back, I should be almost done.”

“Aiight, I’ll be back in an hour. Ya’ll ladies take care.” He glances over at me on the sly.

I blink, blink again. Hearing his voice; watching his swagger, it hits me.
OhmyGod, I had this nigga’s dick in the back of my throat.

FIVE

A
fter all this time, besides not having steady access to Jasper’s dick, or being able to lay in his arms at night, I don’t know what I hate more about going to see him in prison—the drive or the painstaking process. When Jasper was at Rahway State…uh, I mean East Jersey State Prison, it wasn’t bad—the drive that is. Hell, we could fuck if we wanted. Not that we did ’cause there was no way I was going to play myself like that out in the open. But the opportunity to get at his dick was always there. But standing in a pen like cattle with a bunch of trifling-ass, ghetto bitches was a hot mess! And then these bitches wanna fight and argue about who cut the line, and who was standing where first. Oh, and let me not even get started on how them coons carried on once they got inside the visiting area. From hogging up the microwaves and talking shit about it—’cause you could get food out of the vending machines and heat it up—to sucking and fucking, they carried on. Straight niggerish!

Now, hold up. I’m not saying every chick who was out there to see their loved one was ghetto…but, baaaby, trust me. Most of them hoes were. Not to mention the fucking retarded-ass CO’s who I believe are hired to make the whole experience as miserable and as uncomfortable as they possibly can so you’ll get so pissed off that you don’t wanna come back. Miserable bastards! Still, being able to see Jasper whenever I wanted—at least three, sometimes four, times a week between window and contact visits—made all the extra shit I had to go through bearable.

But, now…mmmph, forget it. The drive alone is enough to make me sick! Jasper claims the only reason he put in for the transfer from Rahway to way down here in this Godforsaken hick town was to get into a halfway house faster. He completed some kind of TC—therapeutic community—drug program, and his application to a halfway house has finally been approved. Now he’s waiting to leave. And the good thing is he’ll be closer to home. But, shit! In the meantime I still have to take this treacherous drive! Truth be told, I wish he would have kept his ass at Rahway. Oh, well.

I cut my eye over at Stax as I slow down and prepare to stop at a light. He’s laid all the way back in his seat knocked the hell out, lightly snoring. And that’s fine by me. I let my eyes roam all over his thick, muscular body longer than I should. I take in the sparkle of his diamond-crusted Rolex and pinky ring, then shift my eyes back on the road when the light turns green, making a left turn onto route 49. As soon as I turn right onto Burlington Road, he wakes up.

“Damn, ma, you aiight?”

I glance over at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. How’d you sleep?”

“Like a newborn baby,” he says, smiling while adjusting his seat upward.

“A newborn?” I repeat, laughing. “More like a wild boar.”

He laughs with me. “Sorry ’bout that, ma. I didn’t mean to crash out on you like that. I planned on keeping you company.”

“The way you were snoring,” I tease, “I knew you had to be tired. So, trust me. It’s quite alright. Besides, I’m used to taking this ride by myself.” I can feel him staring at me. I glance over, arching my brow. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shakes his head, smiling. “Nah, I was just thinkin’.”

“About?”

“How beautiful you are.” I blush, shifting in my seat; visibly uncomfortable by his remark. He notices this and says, “No disrespect meant, ma. I’m sayin’. You mad cool, that’s all. And you got flava that I’m sure got the nigga’s sweatin’ you, hard.”

I force a smile. “I don’t know about all that. But thanks for the compliment.”

“You’re a good woman, Pash.” This is the only nigga outside of Jasper who I actually let call me that. Anyone else, I’ve always checked. But him…I don’t know, I guess it’s the way he says it in that Ja-Rule-sounding voice of his. “I hope Jasp knows how lucky he is.”

I feel guilt rising up in me. I swallow it back, hard. “Umm, why you say that?”

“C’mon, ma, you been ridin’ this bid out wit’ my fam hard. And I haven’t heard shit ’bout you creepin’ on him. That’s wassup.”

Because I do my dirt discreetly.
“And you won’t,” I say without blinking an eye.

“So you’ve never stepped out on him?” he asks, eyeing me as if he’s not convinced.

I slowly shake my head. Rationalize in my head, lie in my heart, that what I’m doing isn’t really cheating. That it’s only a means to an end. Just until my baby gets home. I glance over at him. “Nope.” I say, looking him dead in the eyes.

He seems surprised. “Not
ever?
”

I’m kind of surprised myself that he’s sitting here asking me this shit. All the years I’ve known Stax, and all the times I’ve seen him since Jasper’s been locked up, he’s never come out his face to ask me about cheating. But today he is. Hmmm.
I wonder if Jasper put his ass up to this?
If you ask me, this whole ride thing is suspect. Yeah, the more I sit here thinking about it, the more I’m thinking Jasper’s behind this little inquisition. I’m telling you,
niggas are dumb as hell. Does this fool actually think I’d ever tell him the damn truth, knowing he’d go back and tell Jasper? Puhleeze!

“I have no desire to fuck another man,” I tell him, bluntly.
Just suck his damn dick!
Well, at least there is some truth to that.

“That’s wassup, ma. Not too many females out here gonna hold their man down behind the wall without having another muhfucka knockin’ their guts around, feel me?”

“Well, you make sure you tell him what I said, and remind him of how lucky he is.”

He grins. “Oh, I got you, ma. Jasp doesn’t even know I’m kickin’ this to you, though.” I roll my eyes up in my head, disbelievingly. He laughs. “Nah, real talk. I was only askin’.”

“Hmmm…why, are you taking a poll or something?”

He keeps laughing. “Nah, not at all. I’m sayin’…I admire you for holdin’ it down. That’s all.”

“Thanks. But don’t think this prison shit has been easy on me,” I confess, quickly glancing over at him. “Doing a bid with a man comes with its challenges, trust me.”

“Oh, I know it’s not easy—for you or anyone else. But, look at you. You holdin’ shit down. And Jasp doesn’t haveta worry about you playin’ him. Hell, my baby mother was shittin’ on me the whole time I was locked up. And I was lucky if I got a visit once a month, if that. I couldn’t really hate on her, though, ’cause when I was on the bricks I was doin’ me, feel me? And she put up wit’ alotta shit.”

I nod, turning into the prison entrance, then driving around until I find a parking space. “I hear you. So, how ya’ll doing anyway?”

“We good,” he says, opening and closing his legs, then pressing his hand
down into his lap. I cut my eye over at him, glancing down in his lap, then quickly shift my eyes back on the road in front of me. For a brief second, I could swear I saw a lump forming in his pants. “You know, we have our ups and downs, but it’s all good.”

When I finally find a parking space, I pull in, then shut the engine off, looking over at Stax. “Out of curiosity, why’d you come home to her, knowing what she was doing?”

“On some real shit,” he says, pulling his bottom lip in. “She’s my son’s mother.”

I never really noticed how his brown eyes sparkle when the light hits them until now. Damn. It’s a good thing that: one, I’m not sexually attracted to him; two, I have healthy boundaries and don’t believe in fucking my man’s family or friends; and, three, I promised Jasper I wouldn’t give up any of this pussy while he was locked up. Otherwise I’d probably have dropped down on his dick at least once by now.

I twist my lips, raising my eyebrow. “That’s the only reason?”

“Nah,” he says, pausing. “I had no other place to go.”

“And now?”

“’Cause she’s pregnant again,” he says, opening his door. I open mine as well, but don’t get out of the car until after I check my face and whatnot in the mirror. I put on a fresh coat of lipstick, then pull the key out of the ignition. I remove my ID and money from my wallet, then pop the trunk to put my handbag inside. I get out of the car, then make sure my prison garb—a simple, ankle-length, long-sleeved black dress and a cute pair of four-inch, black Prada heels—is on point. Yes, I’m going to a prison, but I still have to keep it sexy. However, I try not to wear anything that is too revealing or provocative—no cleavage, nothing form-fitting. No open-toed shoes. Or anything that is beige, tan, or orange (because the inmates wear those colors) to keep the CO’s from
turning me away, like I’ve seen them do to other chicks. And just in case there’s a hating-ass female officer on duty, I keep a change of clothes in the trunk for backup.

“By the way, congratulations,” I finally say, grabbing my clear plastic purse with my tokens for the vending machines out of the trunk, then shutting it and activating the car alarm.

“For what?”

“For having another baby,” I say, tilting my head.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Wow, you don’t sound too happy about it.”

He stuffs his hands in his front pockets. “I’m not. But, hey, what am I gonna do? She wanted another baby.”

Hmmph, why the hell females wanna keep having babies is beyond me. This’ll be her third child. One with some dude she was fucking with way before Stax, and now two with him. Two damn baby daddies. I catch myself from rolling my eyes up in my head. I shake my head. Poor thing!

SIX

A
fter we sign in, we go through security. Now this is the shit I really hate—the fucking pat-downs! The security here has been tighter over the last several months. Jasper was telling me how there’s been a lot of drugs being smuggled up in here, and how the CO’s have been running down on them with the dogs and whatnot. Still, what this ho is doing doesn’t feel right. Hell, it isn’t right! It feels more like a grab-down the way this mannish, manhandling bitch is grabbing at my goddamn titties! I know the frisks are to make sure no one’s bringing in contraband—like so many dumb-ass bitches do, but this he-man bitch right here is taking it a bit too far if you ask me. It’s almost like the freaky bitch is trying to get her rocks off. I want to scream on her black ass. But I keep my mouth shut ’cause I’m not trying to have her cancel my visit. Like she did a few weeks ago to this chick—who, by the way, takes two buses and a train, then walks from the train station to get here—because she said something slick to her about the way she was grabbing her up. I felt so bad for her.

Anyway, after the frisking, we finally get to the visiting area and find a table facing the door that the inmates come out of so that Jasper can see us as soon as he walks out. I scan the room, looking at all these Bama-fied bitches in their late wears, some of them carrying snotty-nosed babies, dragging loud-ass toddlers, or both. There’s a sprinkle of decent-looking chicks with some
cute kids here. And you can tell they have good home training. Then there are the mules, the bitches smuggling in the damn drugs, stuffing them in their pussies, all in the name of love—and in the promise of a life with their men beyond these walls. Promises that’ll be broken the minute the nigga touches down.

The more I look around the room, the more disgusted I feel myself becoming. I am so sick of this shit! Some of these chicks look so comfortable and happy and excited being here. And here I am, sitting here—in my designer wear and bling—feeling so out of place. This whole prison shit is depressing.

“Yo, I’ma hit the bathroom,” Stax says, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You want something outta the vending machine while I’m up?”

I shake my head. “No, I’m good. Thanks.” I watch him walk toward the men’s room, then glance down at my watch. We’ve been here for almost ten minutes already. Five minutes later, the first batch of inmates are coming out. I keep my eye on the door, waiting. Then scan the room, turning my lips up as two female CO’s walk in. Jasper had pointed them out a few months ago, telling me how they were both fucking inmates here. Hmmph. Nasty bitches! How the hell you gonna be fucking on the job? Yeah, I’m doing what I’m doing, but I’m not jeopardizing my damn career and livelihood behind it. I’ve heard over the years how some chicks have gotten caught up in a bunch of bullshit over some jailhouse cock.