It's Like Candy (18 page)

Russell wasted no time divesting Sherry of her clothing, peering at her superb figure, and then carrying her into the bedroom, where he was about to get ready for business. He was seven years backed up, and couldn't wait to release all of his pent-up sexual frustration. He had demons to let loose.

 

“Russell, it's good to have you back,
word. You know it ain't been the same since you got locked up,” Critter said, brownnosing a little. “You know the hood wasn't the same without you, son. Shit's been all fucked up. But you home now, niggah. You home to take care of business.”

“Yeah, niggah . . . welcome home,” Donald chimed in.

“All for you, my niggah,” Eric said, raising his glass filled with champagne in the air over his cousin.

Russell looked around, feeling the love and the party. He greeted many guests upon his arrival to the VIP section. Some came to show him respect and tell him it was good to have him back, and some wanted to talk business and personally meet the legend themselves. Russell admired and stared at the two dozen strippers who walked around topless or scantily clad. It had been a long time since he'd seen a beautiful, half-naked woman besides Sherry. And he thirsted for more sexual attention from the ladies.

They all sat in the VIP area, observing the outsized crowd from above, sipping on Cristal, Dom Perignon, and Hpnotiq. 50 Cent's “In da Club” blared throughout the club as revelers below moved to the catchy beat and flow of music the DJ poured into the crowd, causing sweaty revelers to hit the bar repeatedly and dispense more money into the place.

In the VIP area, there were over thirty people mingling along with Eric, Russell, and the rest, some well known, and some lingering, trying to feel important and make their impression on Russell.
Everybody knew what he was about, and the majority feared him but craved his attention and respect, and would go to the limit for that.

Six exotic, voluptuous strippers pranced through the VIP area, flirting, mingling, and collecting huge tips all night. It felt like paradise to Critter, who looked around in awe and stuffed twenty-dollar bills down every G-string that passed by him.

“Everything good up here?” Rock-Rock asked, checking in.

“Rock-Rock, we good,” Eric stated.

Rock-Rock was down-to-earth, and Eric liked him. He went up to Rock-Rock, and said, “Yo, Rock-Rock, let me introduce you to my cousin.”

Rock-Rock didn't mind, he was dying to meet the man of the hour, the man he'd heard about from his security team, and the man who brought over fifteen hundred people to his club.

Rock-Rock walked beside Eric and approached Russell, who was engaged with Mindy and Mandy, the beautiful Hershey twins. Russell poured Cristal down their chests, and began sucking it off their nipples and in between their breasts.

“Yo, Russ,” Eric called out.

Russell turned around, laughing, and looked over at his cousin, then rested his eyes on Rock-Rock. “What up, E?”

“Yo, let me introduce you two, Russ, this is Rock-Rock, the owner of the club. He looked out for us tonight,” Eric informed him.

Russell examined Rock-Rock, doing a quick size-up of the white man, and then said, “Good lookin' out. I appreciate this.”

“If y'all need anything, come to me,” Rock-Rock recommended.

“Definitely,” Russell said, and then turned his attention back to the topless twins, who were dying for his undivided attention.

“Well, that went good,” Rock-Rock said.

Eric smiled. “He just came home. He did a seven-year bid.”

“Understandable.”

Rock-Rock then left the VIP section and went to see about his workers down in the club.

The DJ began to spin some extended Jamaican mixes, piercing the large club with Sean Paul's “Get Busy” and “Like Glue.” Revelers got excited and were grinding their pelvises against their partners'. Some of the females stared up at the VIP section, hoping to catch Russell's attention. But Russell was too busy sucking champagne off a stripper's nipples to pay attention to the floor below.

As the night went on, more people started entering the VIP section; females tried sneaking in or bribing the bouncers at the foot of the stairs, in search of that next big bailer to trick on them. And the fellows wanting in were wishing to see Russell, knowing that he was home now, and wanting to get put on to make some money out on the streets.

Lying low among the crowd and trying to be inconspicuous about their presence were two black agents who kept a keen eye on Russell and his crew upstairs. Being aware that he was home, they knew it would be a matter of time before he hit the streets again and returned to his life of crime. They both were dressed in velour sweatsuits, and Yankees caps. They knew seven years ago Russell had been a very major figure in the drug trade. He was only twenty years old then but was a rising kingpin.

But luckily for cops, with the right informants and Russell making a stupid mistake by committing murder, they were able to shut him down and put him away for a long sentence. Now it seemed as if the years had gone by too fast, because Agent Merchant and Agent Morris couldn't believe that he was out again. They felt Russell should have done life. He was ruthless and he'd terrorized the neighborhood for too long, as his family did bef3re him.

Making their way through the thick crowd in the VIP section in search of the man of the night were Barnes and Bishop, two well-known street thugs. They'd been tried in court twice, but were never convicted of the four murders they allegedly committed.

Barnes was a solid six feet three, brawny, and always wore a menacing look on his face. He was in his early thirties and had thick black eyebrows and smooth brown skin, with a baldy. He loved wearing
leather coats and jackets, even in the summertime, because he was able to conceal any kind of weapons in his coats.

Bishop was six feet one, slimmer than Barnes but just as deadly. One look into his dark eyes and you knew he was a crazy sonovabitch. He had a pierced tongue, nose, and both eyebrows, and had taken the life of his father when he was fifteen. He caught his father stealing from him, a dope package out of his bedroom. Late one night, Bishop spotted his pop walking up Rockaway Avenue, so he quickly ran up behind him and shot him twice in the back of the head. Bishop didn't care, his father didn't raise him anyway, and he was a junkie on top of that. Bishop saw himself as doing his father a favor by putting him out of his misery.

They both spotted Russell, whom they knew as Yung Slim, fondling some redbone stripper as she sat on his lap. They walked up to him, wanting to catch him off guard.

Bishop crept up behind him and quickly slid his arm around Russell's neck, squeezing him in a little choke hold, and said, “You slippin', niggah. I know prison ain't made you soft.”

Bishop then let go, and Russell quickly turned around and looked up at his boy, Bishop, and then Barnes came into view.

“My niggahs, what's up, what's up, what's up!” Russell exclaimed, jumping from his chair, and giving Barnes and Bishop dap and embracing them in a manly hug.

“Good to see you again, niggah,” Barnes stated.

“Oh, shit. It's been a long time,” Russell exclaimed.

“Too long, niggah. So, what's good, Russ?” Bishop asked.

“Back home, baby. You know what's good,” Russell said.

“So you ready to get back to work and hit these blocks again?” Barnes asked with an impassive look.

“Barnes, you know what's up. I'm home, baby. I'm here to take back what was taken from me a long time ago.”

“That's what I'm talkin' about, niggah,” Bishop chimed in. “I'm glad to see the state didn't make you go soft.”

“Never that, yo . . . fo' real. We gonna be on point again, my niggahs. I got a lot of deadweight to deal with first, and then it's on,” Russell proclaimed, then took a sip from his glass.

“Ayyite, Yung Slim, we out. Do you, niggah. Enjoy the night. I'm gonna get at you wit' some info later on,” Barnes stated.

“Y'all niggahs leaving already? Stay . . . you got pussy roaming free all over this muthafucka, enjoy y'all selves.”

“Nah, we got other business to attend to,” Bishop proclaimed. “We just came to check you, and see what's up. Welcome home, Yung Slim,” Bishop said, and gave him dap again.

“Same here, niggah . . . see you around,” Barnes said, and then they both left the way they came, intimidating the revelers as they lightly pushed their way through the dense crowd.

From a few feet away, Eric noticed Barnes and Bishop leaving the room while he was talking to a young female. He knew they both came to see Russell, and he knew that both men were dangerous, and only came to drag Russell back into the game. He'd never had any beef with them. In fact, since Russell's incarceration, Eric remembered seeing the duo only a handful of times. After Russell got locked up, they just left the hood. And now, coincidently, they were both back. Eric gazed over at his cousin, watching Russell down a bottle of Cristal, and rub his hands across a stripper's breasts.

The night was still young, and the only thing that was on Eric's mind was pussy. He had three suites waiting for him and his company at the Marriott, and he planned on bringing as many strippers and hoes as he could along for the ride in the limo, and continuing their party back at the Marriott.

 

The party continued
at the Marriott in downtown Brooklyn. The limo ride was nothing but an early orgy, where Critter got a blow job from two hoes who got naked during the ride. They both were clearly drunk. They kissed and fondled each other, and molested Critter, who sat back with his jeans around his ankles and his huge
erection ready for action. Eric, Russell, and the rest sat, drinking and getting drunk as the petite, light-skinned ho engulfed Critter's dick down to his balls, never coming up for air.

Critter had the largest smile on his face as he looked over at his friends and gripped a handful of the woman's hair, forcing her farther down on his big dick. He groaned and she choked, gagging on dick and spit.

“Critter, you still a wild boy,” Russell proclaimed, smiling and then downing his drink. “This niggah still ain't fuckin' change.”

“Yo, Russ, I live life fuckin' these hoes and doing me, niggah,” Critter replied.

Shorty finally came off the dick and wiped her mouth, smiling, and allowed her friend to go down on the dick next.

This was Critter's moment. His homey, Yung Slim, was home, a beautiful bitch had his dick in her mouth, and he was tipsy and on his way back to the hotel to fuck two, three, or all seven of the hoes they'd brought with them to the hotel.

Critter wasted no time shoving his big black dick into the light-skinned shorty who'd deep-throated him in the limo earlier. He ran up in her raw-dawg, without protection or anything, and had her panting and scratching at his back as she lay naked on her back with her legs spread like eagle's wings, Critter's big dick opening her up like the Grand Canyon.

“You gonna be my next baby-mama, right, bitch!” Critter shouted, thrusting his dick into her.

“Yes . . . yes . . . Fuck me! Fuck me. . . . Oooh. Shit . . . yes . . . fuck me! Damn, you gotta big dick,” she cried out.

Donald was also engaged in an orgy, having himself a menage a trois in the adjacent room. He had two butt-naked hoes with him, and heard the loud cries from the young hoochie Critter was banging in the other room, and he wanted to drown out their sounds of ecstasy and see who could make the hoes cry out louder.

Russell and Eric, they put the sex and hoes on pause for a moment, and went to have drinks down at the hotel bar. The pussy wasn't going anywhere, and Russell wanted to have a talk with his cousin alone.

“Damn, cuz, that's like your tenth drink tonight,” Eric remarked, seeing Russell throwing back champagne as if it was water.

“A niggah didn't get to drink like this in seven years, E. The three most missed things in prison while I was locked down was pussy, liquor, and money. . . .” He was a bit tipsy but still remained focus.

“Yo, I saw you talkin' to Bishop and Barnes at the club earlier,” Eric said. “What those two wanted?”

“They happy to see a niggah home, E. You know, came to say what's up,” Russell stated tersely.

“I haven't seen them around lately. Thought they both were dead or locked up by now.”

“Nah, them niggahs are soldiers, E . . . they handle their business correct.”

Eric looked at his cousin for a long moment before saying, “You know they watching you, Russell.”

“Who?” Russell slurred.

“The feds, cops . . . your enemies. Everybody and their mama know you back home now, so they watching.”

“Fuck ‘em, E. . . . you think I'm stressin' muthafuckas. Yo, the king is back. And he's back for good now.”

“Yo Russ . . . slow your roll, don't get caught up in the game so quickly. Things changed since you were locked down. A lot of people stepped up, doing their thang now. They see you out, they gonna take you as a threat, and wanna put you back down.”

“Fuck ‘em, damn right I'm a threat, E. I've been out of action for too fuckin' long. I got a lot of things to take care of,” Russell proclaimed, gazing angrily at his cousin. “I'm better now, fuckin' wiser. I got Bishop and Barnes by my side again, we gonna take back what
belongs to us in the first place. Who da fuck these niggahs out here you telling me to back down from?”

“Russ, I'm just sayin', I want you home for good now. I don't wanna lose you again. We family, niggah. I don't wanna see the state take you away again . . . this time for good,” Eric stated. His voice became softer and his eyes rested on Russell.

Russell peered at his cousin, his gaze became gentler, and his tone became calmer. “E, I'm not goin' anywhere, you feel me? A niggah out now and a niggah home for good and there ain't no changing that. You feel me, niggah? I fucked up before, you know what I'm sayin', but believe me . . . I'm gonna make it right. I'm back, baby, and you know me, I'm about this money, getting it by any means necessary. And like before, back in the day, I want you right by my side, holding shit down; you know what I'm sayin'? We're kings, niggah. We share the same blood, our family been running shit in these streets since forever. Your father, our cousins, uncles, we were built for this game here. Don't let shit deter you from making that money. Whoever's out there now, thinking they holding down the throne, cuz, believe me when I say this, they about to get put down.” Russell stated.