From the Streets to the Sheets by Noire Read Free Book Online Page B

confirmation as Lil’ Lee did: It was cool to move forward.
    “How you gonna push your shit up in my place? Ya knows the rules, Poochie. I don’t give a fuck how big your ass is. Three hundred and fifty pounds of muscle or not, can’t nobody flip weed in my spot. Now lick your way to forgiveness,” I said, then closed my eyes when I heard 12 cock his burner.
    Poochie was all up on me in five seconds flat. Lids still closed, I shuddered at the thought of his tongue all in my groove when he spread my booty cheeks apart and fingered the rim of my ass. Heat consumed me again, and I moaned—a sign of weakness as far as I was concerned. I looked at 12 to see if he heard. He just nodded, and I closed my eyes again, cocking my legs open an inch wider as I felt Poochie near my domain.
    He licked one thigh, then the other. “You want this, huh?” his deep voice asked, trailing his tongue toward my bottom.
    “Just make nice, niggah,” I shuddered, enjoying the longness of his lasher.
    Poochie gripped my thighs hard, and my eyes shot open. Bending over me, he had his dick in his hand. “I’m gonna give it to ya, a’ight.”
    I tried to sit up, but he pushed me back so hard I thought I’d cave the desk in. He pinned me with the weight of one of his arms, but it felt like I was being held down by five niggahs. He was that strong. I looked for 12, but was greeted by the click of the door closing behind him. That niggah had left me. Straight up bounced while a sistah was naked and vulnerable.
    I cried out when Poochie parted my pussy with calloused hands, but no one answered. The bakery had grown completely quiet of the voices normally blending in with the tunes. But now all I heard was the music. Loud. Blaring. Drowning out my calls for help.
    “Can’t nobody help you, Sweets,” Poochie said, inserting the tip of his dick inside my tunnel. “No . . .” he plunged the rest of it in me “. . . fuckin’ body!”
    Lying there helpless, I squirmed as he fucked me hard and fast, beating my already beaten and sore pussy, and prayed he was a two-minute niggah. And he was, I realized when he pulled out suddenly, then shot his cum into a Big Gulp cup I didn’t know he had.
    The door opened, spiraling freedom through me. I knew I was saved.
    “Finished?” 12 asked.
    “What the fuck do you mean, ‘finished’?” I yelled. “Do you know what this niggah—”
    “Yeah,” Poochie answered him, cutting me off. “Was some sweet pussy too. Just like you said.”
    I’d been set up. “What?!”
    12 grinned at me, then turned and looked behind him. “Forty, you next.” He turned back to me. “Funny how much a niggah can tell when a pistol’s in his mouth. Whisky dropped dime on you.” He closed the door after Forty walked in with his dick out.
    Poochie held out his hand, and Forty slapped it. An official sign of tag-teaming. Pushing my ankles over my head until my knees pounded my shoulders, he almost cut off my oxygen when he climbed his big ass over me and held me in position from the other side. “I got this, dawg. But you gone have to hold her down for Ray-Ray and them.”
    Tears threatened to fall, but I refused to cry. Running a train on me or not, I wasn’t gonna give them dirty niggahs too much of my energy. So I sat there—like I had a choice—and took that shit like a pro. Five of them switched up, battle-ramming my pussy like they’d never had ass before. All of them spilled their cum in the cup.
    A loaded gun to my head was how the gang bang ended.
    “Had enough?” 12 asked with a big, doofy-ass grin on his face. “Sit up.”
    I looked into the nozzle of the same Desert Eagle that’d had my back for years. “Why, 12?”
    “Told ya, Sweets. Ya man sang like a bird.”
    “You gonna believe that niggah over me? After he was fuckin’ your wifey?”
    12 laughed. “Nah. I’m gonna believe the tape that the hidden cameras produced. The same cameras that had night vision.”
    I’d fallen for many things,