Big Juicy Lips Read Online Free PDF Page A

night, the three inexperienced foot soldiers would split a meager profit, three ways. Dumb assholes!
    “Yo, Ma. What’s good? My name is Cash Money; you can call me C. Whatchu need?” he asked, gesturing with his hands.
    Cash Money was an ashy-looking dude, attempting to appear grown, as he drank from a can of brew covered by a brown paper bag.
    Misty disliked him on sight. He needed to rub some shea butter on his mug, his arms, and his ashy elbows. His wrinkled T-shirt was a dingy shade of gray. She felt such disdain for him, she refused to insult her sensitive eyes by shifting her focus to his feet. Against her better judgment, her eyes traveled down to his feet. She sucked her teeth at his trifling sneakers, badly worn down and tilted on a hazardous lean. Misty turned her nose up at Cash Money. “Yo, Ashy Cashy…I don’t want nothing you selling!”
    “Ashy Cashy!” the other two dope boys repeated, unable to stifle their laughter.
    Cash Money gave a shaky laugh, and then looked at his partners. “What I do?” he asked. His arms were outstretched, his facial expression confused and offended.
    “You’re too grungy-looking for me to deal with,” Misty informed him, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Look at your dingy shirt,” Misty said with contempt. “You can buy a bundle of those jawns from the Muslim store for twenty dollars or less. I came through to cop some weed, but if you can’t keep your gear up no better than you doing, then you must be slinging garbage.”
    “Dayum, shawty—chill. Don’t hurt ’im,” a tall, lanky teen said. His limber body bucked and dipped by strong ripples of laughter that he couldn’t hold. “You comin’ straight at Troy’s neck.”
    “I can’t believe she called Troy, Ashy Cashy,” the third member of the trio added.
    “Don’t be throwing no slurs at me; I don’t hustle in my good clothes,” C-Money explained. The lack of fire in his tone told Misty he was soft. She sneered at him until he backed up, eyeing Misty warily as if she were an unpredictable pit bull that might get a sudden urge to take a bite out of one of his ashy arms.
    “Yo, shawty, go easy on my man. Troy’s aiight; he ain’t been in the game that long. But fuck all that; I gotchu. Whatchu want—a nic—a dime?”
    Licking his wounds, Troy faded farther into the background until he blended in with the masses. The third dude, whose name Misty wasn’t interested in knowing, was muscular with a medium build. Definitely not her type, so she ignored him and gave the lanky, handsome, young hustler her undivided attention.
    “What’s your name?” Misty asked the cute teenager.
    “Monroe.” He appraised her; interest gleamed in his eyes.
    He was a lighter complexion than Shane, but had his height and build. His face was boyish and cute. He didn’t have Shane’s angular features, his smug attitude, or his dangerous good looks. But, he would have to do. “Let me holla at you in private, Monroe.” She turned her back toward muscle boy, indicating that his presence was no longer necessary. But muscle boy stayed posted-up with his bulky arms folded, as if Misty might change her mind and give him some business.
    “You wanna get high with me and get in a quick fuck?” Misty posed the question nonchalantly.
    Monroe held a straight face. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
    Misty looked the young buck up and down. His baggy pants hid the size of his jewels, but she sensed by the way he was standing that he knew how to work his back.
    Ever since Shane kicked it, Misty had been searching for a replacement. Shane was special and so far, no one had measured up.
    Before he lost his damn mind, Shane was her man. He willingly shared her with Brick because he was smooth like that. Brick was leasing the pussy, Shane owned it all: pussy, mouth, titties. And when asked for access to her asshole, she gave up the booty—in the name of love.
    Shane used a ton of lubricant, but his inserted hardness hurt like