Page 3 of The Hellcat Barbies: Aubree

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Despite Connie’s face being buried in the pillow, I could still hear her muffled moans as I pounded in and out of her from behind.

Connie’s body quaked as I smacked her roughly on her left ass cheek.

Removing her face from the pillow, she moaned loudly filling the room with the sounds of her pleasure.

“Throw that ass back.” It was my second time having sex in six years, and I wanted her to do something other than lay there and take the D.

Before I got locked up, I was the kind of nigga that didn’t kiss females in the mouth during sex unless I fucked with them like that.

I also didn’t eat pussy, unless I was damn near in love.

But not having sex for six long, inhumane ass years had me on some freaky shit when I got home.

Unfortunately, the person I had sex with didn’t really match my level of freakiness, and that shit was disappointing.

Especially since we’d flirted and anticipated the day we could hook up for three years.

Connie was a fine ass CO and no matter how much she liked a nigga, I had to respect the fact that she refused to risk her job to have sex with me while at work.

The day I was released, my best friend picked me up, and that night, I was in her bed.

I was drunk as shit and backed up, so I didn’t pay much attention to the particulars.

But this was our second go ‘round, and she wasn’t working hard enough to get the nut up out of me.

Her sexy dark skin glistened with sweat, and her plump ass rippled with waves as I sexed her savagely.

Connie’s moans became louder as she attempted to do what I asked.

She screamed bloody murder as I gripped her waist. The tight hold that I had on her was the only thing keeping her in place.

I was on the brink of an orgasm, and her running was about to mess it up.

After I removed my hands from Connie’s waist, I pulled out of her.

“You gon’ catch this shit?” I asked in a gruff tone while peeling the condom off.

Connie turned around slowly and glanced at my dick hesitantly like she didn’t want to suck it after the rubber had been on.

She was blowing me, and I wasn’t talking about literally.

Half-heartedly, she took my dick into her mouth and did a piss poor job of sucking me off.

She barely even put half of my dick in her mouth.

I had to concentrate way too hard to bust a nut, and that was trife as fuck.

Connie was cool people for real, and I really didn’t want to just ghost her, but I didn’t want any more of her pussy or her throat.

I waited three years for the disappointment of a lifetime.

I gave no fucks about the dumb ass people that fed into the stereotype that a man that did a bid had to have had sex with a man while behind bars.

That was the dumbest shit I’d ever heard in my life.

I could get sentenced to a thousand years, and I’d never lay with a man or let one suck me off.

Two years into my bid, I ran into one bold chick that gave me head three times before she got fired for some other shit.

In six years, those three nuts were the only ones I busted that I didn’t cause myself.

And honestly, I didn’t even like jacking off like that.

I only did that shit maybe once every three or four months.

It annoyed me that I even had to use a condom sliding up in some pussy for the first time in six years, but I was horny not stupid.

A nigga didn’t need any babies, and I wasn’t raw dogging any woman that wasn’t mine.

Closing my eyes, visions of Aubree flashed through my mind.

Or visions of what she used to look like.

It had been six years since I’d last seen her.

There was no telling how she may have changed over the years.

It had been a long time since I’d dreamed or thought of her.

But a nigga was home. Behind those gates, I conditioned myself not to think about her.

Knowing that she was somewhere in this very city while I was walking around free as a bird had my mind revisiting places that I didn’t want it to.

Remembering the last time my tongue probed her mouth as she pressed her body into mine, had me releasing guttural moans and whispering that I was about to cum, despite the fact that Connie’s head was trash.

Being that she wasn’t sucking to my satisfaction, I gripped my meaty tool and began to stroke it gently. “Catch this shit,” I murmured as I felt my seed rushing to the tip of my dick. “Fuuccck,” I grunted just as she squealed and jumped off the bed causing my semen to shoot across the bed.

She was childish as fuck. This was definitely the last time I pulled my dick out and wasted my time with her.

“For real yo?” I eyed her with a frown.

We were in her bedroom, and she had to clean the mess up.

I didn’t care whether she caught it or not, but I was stunned that all the shit she’d talked over the years had been cap.

She wanted to be the first person I had sex with when I came home because she really believed the myth that the first piece of pussy a man got when he came home from a bid would have him sprung.

I was dead ass serious when I said that Connie’s pussy wouldn’t have me open if she was the last person on earth.

“I didn’t want it to get in my mouth,” she looked down at the mess on the carpet.

With a shake of my head, I walked into the bathroom to clean up.

I had been home for two days, and the extent of my bullshitting was coming to an end.

I got fresh, ate good, got drunk, smoked some premium gas, and I busted a few nuts.

It was time to get down to business. Thank God for my best friend, Cook.

He had two cars, and he was letting me push his Lexus until I got a car of my own.

My brother, Ishon had a Range Rover when he died, but my mother didn’t know where his stash was, and she had to sell his vehicle to pay for the funeral.

The fact that my brother died four years into my bid fucked with me every day.

I would never get over it. Giving the state six years of my life and missing so much shit had me hesitant to get back into anything illegal, but I needed money, and I needed it fast. One of my homies had put in a good word on my behalf with an OG named Chicago.

He owned a boxing gym, and he hired me to be one of the instructors for a boxing fitness class.

I would be teaching the 12:00-12:45 class, and the 1:30-2:30 class.

He had other instructors and basically just wanted to look out for me until I found something else.

Chicago was a real one for sure, because he was going to pay me $200 a day, five days a week to teach two classes.

$1,000 a week for less than three hours of work a day was a blessing.

If I just sold a little dope, I could get a car and my own place in less than three months.

Cook sold weed, and he had a job at a security company.

The job at the security company allowed him to get a mortgage, car, etc.

in his name and pay the bills. The money he made selling weed allowed him to live a comfortable life and not be broke as hell as soon as the mortgage and other bills were paid.

When Cook picked me up from prison, there were six shopping bags with clothes and shoes inside the car for me.

He also handed me a cell phone and $3,500.

I needed to get a haircut and some boxer briefs and shit, but since I was covered on the phone, clothes, shoes, and socks, most of the $3,500 was going toward a car. Once I got a car, I’d get my own place.

When I arrived at my mom’s house, she was asleep.

My mother was a schoolteacher. On the weekdays, she was in bed by 10:45 and on the weekends, she barely made it past 11:30.

I felt guilty every time I thought about the fact that my mom only had two sons and at one point, we were both gone away from her, and she was out here in the world without either of us.

That fucked me up. Especially since our pops was murdered when I was ten.

The police killed him after he robbed a bank.

With six years in prison, I had nothing but time on my hands.

I came up with an idea to start a YouTube channel dedicated to science.

I loved science. If I had the patience for college, I could have been an aerospace engineer, biologist, chemist, pharmacist, and some mo’ shit.

I knew a YouTube channel wouldn’t pay the bills at first. Shit, it might never pay the bills.

But when I heard how much money people like Ms. Rachel were making singing songs and teaching people’s kids I thought why not?

I could walk kids through various projects and at home, they could try it themselves for fun or for a school assignment.

I also wanted to teach science facts in a fun way to help kids grasp the concept better.

I never had to play hard for anybody. I was what I was, and I was who I was.

I liked fast money, and I had respect in the streets.

However, I was also smart, and I wasn’t interested in playing dumb for anybody.

That didn’t mean people would understand my vision or my desire to teach kids about science, so I kept the plan to myself.

I knew I needed to stop bullshitting and get started on it.

As I walked to the bedroom that I was occupying, I glanced up at the ceiling.

Standing in place, I glared up at the attic door.

As if Ish was in the afterlife whispering in my ear, something strong as hell was telling me to go in that attic.

I wasn’t sure if things changed once I got locked up, but Ish used to use the attic as his stash spot.

He always said if something happened to him, he didn’t want the wrong person going in his apartment getting his things.