Dirty Work: Part 1

Now suddenly he was rushing Kip out of his house. Something was definitely up. Kip left the house and finally felt relieved when he was inside his minivan with his money. He removed the gun from underneath the seat. He started the ignition and lingered behind the wheel for a moment, wondering what the fuck had just happened back there.

As he sat, he noticed a car approaching. Kip gripped his gun, which was already cocked, and kept his attention fixed on the vehicle. It was Jay P arriving. He remained cautious as he eyed Jay P climbing out of his dark green Yukon. He looked worried about something.

Kip rolled down his window, and Jay P came to the van. At the window, the two men dapped each other up.

Jay P was about to tell Kip about Big Sean’s murder, a devastating blow to him. But something quickly caught his attention. He noticed the diamond watch around Kip’s wrist. It was the same watch Big Sean had on—the one Kip stole, sold to Meek, and Meek gave to Big Sean. How did Kip suddenly get possession of it again? There was only one way he saw how—He’d murdered Big Sean himself and took back the watch. Jay P knew the hit had to come down from Maserati Meek himself. But why? Suddenly, his mood changed. Kip suddenly went from acquaintance to public enemy number one.

“I’m out,” Jay P said without emotion. He stepped away from Kip’s minivan and got back into his SUV.

Kip made his exit right after. And like Phil Collins once sang, there was definitely “something in the air tonight.”

***

Maserati Meek stood in the living room brooding, his lieutenants confused. What happened? They thought they were there to murder Kip today. It was supposed to be swift, a fast bullet to the back of his head, but they didn’t question Meek’s change of plans.

Maserati Meek wanted Kip dead because Kip had renegotiated the price for the hit on Big Sean. Meek had a set price, and he felt that Kip had gotten too greedy charging him fifty thousand when he’d just paid the nigga two hundred grand for the jewelry. And, no one talked back to Meek. No one. Once Meek said something, it was set in stone. In Egypt, the alpha is the man with the biggest guns and the largest gang.

Maserati Meek looked at his men and said, “He’s still valuable for the moment. I still need him.”

Maserati Meek was just on the phone with Panamanian Pete. Panamanian Pete’s name was major and had been ringing out for years through the Carolinas, Georgia, and Alabama. He ran those states with drugs, nightclubs, and goons. Panamanian Pete wanted to purchase a large shipment of kilos and guns from Meek, but Meek was paranoid. Why the sudden phone call? Meek felt it was a setup. He was aware that those alphabet boys wanted to arrest him and put him inside a cage for the rest of his life. He couldn’t risk someone in his organization getting jammed up. Every move he made had to be a wise, cautious one. He figured Panamanian Pete was either working for the Feds or planning to rob him. He needed Kip to take the hit if there was one planned. The young thug all of a sudden had a purpose.

Kip’s greed had rubbed him the wrong way. Kip didn’t know it, but they had a plastic tarp covering the floor in the next room, the room where he was supposed to be led to and violently murdered. Then they were going to roll his body up and dispose of it like it was trash.

Nineteen

Ooooh shit! Oh, baby, right there. Right fuckin’ there, homes, right there. ¡Mierda! ¡Mierda!” Jessica cried out in heated passion. She closed her eyes, bit down on her bottom lip, and squirmed around on the bed.

Maserati Meek went to work on her. He held her legs vertically in the air, his hold around her secure, his tongue inside her sweet core as he tasted every inch of her nice and slow.

Her pussy flowing like a river, Jessica announced, “I’m gonna come!” She couldn’t take it anymore. Her entire body felt lit up so bright that she was oozing natural power. Her legs quivered intensely. She wanted to drop them around Meek’s shoulders, rest them against the bed, but he continued to keep them vertical.

Her clit was trembling with intense sensation as his tongue darted in and out, and he wasn’t shy of tasting her anally. Meek pushed Jessica’s legs back more and continued to feast on her wetness. He lapped gently, making her howl.

“Come in my mouth.” He licked her clit tenderly, and he softly sucked her pussy lips as he slid his fingers in and out of her.

Maserati Meek was putting Jessica in that mental room of pure, unadulterated gratification. The more he licked and fingered her, the more she squirmed, crushed her teeth against her bottom lip, and the more her juices flowed.

Quickly, he pulled Jessica on top of him, and she started to ride his tongue to near orgasm.

Maserati Meek felt the warmth of her thighs against his face. Her breathing became labored. Whipping Jessica up into an orgasm required work, and it was work that Meek loved putting in.

“I’m gonna come!” she screamed out.

Moments later, her body reacted to the licking and the sucking, and she burst open like a piñata at a Mexican birthday party, her juices all o

ver his face.

She rolled off his face and collapsed on her back, her chest heaving up and down.

Meek pulled himself up from his back and stood erect in the room. “I need to take a shower,” he said.

Jessica smiled at him.

“You care to join me?” he asked.

“Give me a minute.”

He walked into the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. He didn’t have the perfect ass, and he was a bit hairy in some places, but his money and power made up for any physical flaws. The dick was good, but the way he ate pussy was explosive.