Memphis Streets 4: Skeletons

Chapter 39- Lucifer

The pungent scent of strawberries and pussy assaults my senses the second I creep into the basement of a two-story brick home a few blocks off Orange Mound.

I follow the unmistakable sighs and moans of women mounting toward climax. My senses heighten; I concentrate on keeping my movements graceful and silent. As I ease my way from the basement to the main floor, the sex mewing grows louder along with the steady pounding of skin against skin.

Despite this shit clearly being two bitches getting it on, my clit thumps along with their nasty rhythm. I slide my Browning from its sheath. Brika and Shacardi are in the middle of the living room, lost in their own world. Shacardi is on her hands and knees, her head snatched back by the bondage leash that Brika is fisting while drilling a strap-on dildo into her thick, ghetto booty.

"You fuckin' love this shit, don't you?" Brika asks.

"YEEESSSSS! Oh, fuck! I'm about to come." Brika grips her shit tighter.

"Then come, !"

For a bitch, I'm quite impressed with Brika's stroke game. She's working that cock like she was born with it. I admit that for a second, I'm torn on whether to let these bitches catch this last nut before I send them straight to hell or not. In the end, I wait. Hell, even I can show mercy.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

The harder Brika goes in, the redder Shacardi's caramel-colored ass gets. This girl is squirting so hard, pearls of pussy juice are rolling down her inner thighs.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH," Shacardi screams, trembling like a leaf.

That was it. In a one-two motion, I grab Brika by the back of the head and swipe the Browning hard across her throat. Bone and muscle melt away like butter. Blood sprays across Shacardi's back. Brika releases the grip on Shacardi's leash to claw at her own throat.

"Wh—what the fuck?" Shacardi's fresh nut is crushed as she whips a look over her shoulder.

I toss Shacardi a smile and a wink before she scrambles off Brika's fake dick and races across the floor like a squirrelly rat, trying to get away. In case she's going for a weapon, I stroll behind her bloody and baby-oiled ass before reaching down and grabbing hold of her leash.

"And where in the fuck do you think you're going?" I ask, yanking her back.

Choking, Shacardi does the same clawing at her throat. I yank harder, flipping her onto her back.

"No! No! No!"

She goes into a kicking fit, where her legs fly in every direction. Unluckily for her, she'd allowed her lover to put those in chains as well. I easily gain control of that shit by reaching for the iron bar that had been discarded on the sofa and snapping it onto the chains.

"There. That's better." I give her another wink and then glance back over my shoulder at Brika. The dead bitch is now face down in a pool of her own blood.

"Shit. I didn't really get a chance to have any fun with your friend." I turn my attention back to Shacardi.

"I guess that means it's all up to you to entertain me."

"Please. Please," she begs. "It wasn't me. I had nothing to do with what happened to your brother. I swear."

"Oh. Well." I pretend to think that shit over. "I guess that means that I fucked up here, huh?"

Tears flow down her face. "Only . . . the security cameras in Da Club got some bitch that looks like you all up in the mix. Not to mention when I had a little chat with that nigga Crunk, he spit your name before I laid a blade on him."

She whimpers. "That's some shit, ain't it?" I squat down next to her and run the tip of my bloody knife along the side of her face.

"You gotta be pissed about a mix-up like this—an innocent bitch like you—at the top of my shit list?"

My anger transforms my sneering face into stone. "You must think I'm stupid. Don't you, bitch?"

"N-no."

"Yes, you do. Let me tell you, the second y'all killed my brother, you should've put the gun inside your mouths. Now I'm gonna do this shit nice and slow."

"Please. Please," she begs. "I don't want to die. Please."

"Shhh." I press my finger against her lips. "Save your energy. You're gonna need it."

I slide the blade over her chin, down her throat and circle around her titties. "Tell you what? Since you like ridin' so much, why don't we see how you can handle these ten-inches, huh?"

Her eyes nearly pop out of her head. "I bet a hot box like yours can handle this shit."

I bring the blade down the center of her belly and then shave a few pubic hairs before positioning the weapon at her open pussy. "Scream for me,"

I order and then jam the knife hilt-deep.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" This shit is sweet music to my ears.