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Sllik Yssup

By Daniel Morris

 

 

Tuesday, March 16th, 2004

3:32 pm

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It was all good just a week ago. It was all good just an hour ago. It was all good just a few minutes ago before I picked up that fucking phone. I thought it was a fuckin’ cold. The flu at worst. I mean who would have thought? This is the type of thing that happens to other people.

So, this may be the end of everything but I’m still deciding. Anyway, I don’t know what to write, if I should write, or if anything matters.


Pretty Tony must have looked at everything in that little pale room except down into the eyes of the doctor/nurse/clinician/disease expert person who was bent over at his exposed groin. His eyes stopped at the clock above the door. It was eleven– Big hand on one. Small hand before 12. Almost twelve, so nearly 2–1:56ish  pm. 

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“Take a deep breath,” she said, her hand firmly gripping his sensitive sex stick. He was doing the opposite—holding his breath, trying to block everything out, including the uncomfortable pleasure of being touched so clinically by a professional–

 

Then, out of nowhere, a razor-sharp, dick-piercing pain shot through his entire being. The nurse quickly pulled the Q-tip out of his urethra, her movement almost as reactive as his. His fist clenched the empty air where her hand had been. He glared at her, his eyes full of anger, though that’s all he dared to do. After all, she still had him by the balls.

“Okay,” she said, placing the evidence in a bag and grabbing another long long q-tip, “One more time. Deep breath.”

This time he opened his mouth and swallowed all of the air from the room as he clenched a nearby counter.

 

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11:45 am

Slick Rick was walking down the stairs behind a beautiful specimen—thin, but with a butt so big you could see it from the front! Pretty Tony was about to leave, hand on the door, when he stopped to stare. He glanced over her shoulder at Rick, and they shared a knowing smile. Suddenly, a light pat hit his left shoulder.

"Really, dummy?" the one chick said, noticing their machismo bond.

 

Oh shit. Pretty Tony had forgotten she was there! He opened his mouth, but what could he say?

Slick Rick closed the door behind the three of them just as he got a call from Queen Bee. Outside, the beautiful specimen walked to her car while Tony headed toward his.

"You ain't coming over?" the one chick asked.

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"Baby, I got shit to do," Tony replied, doing his best pimp impression.

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"Where you going?"

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Luckily for Tony, he was still in "pimp" mode, so he didn't get caught off guard.

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"Baby, don't you ever ask a grown man where he's going."

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She rolled her eyes and began walking toward her car, but Tony continued.

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"When we together, we together. And when we apart, we apart, Baby, noiamsaeen. Lemme miss you, you know what I mean? I can't miss you if you're here. And if you're here—"

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The one chick was already in her car, out of earshot.

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Sunday, March 7th, 2004

11:23 am

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Slick Rick was sketching in his pad. His muse lay on the bed, ass up, sleeping comfortably like she owned the place. She was a dandy specimen. The sunlight, sliced by the blinds, draped over her back in glowing stripes. As Rick used his thumb to smear and blend a shadow, he imagined how it would look as a painting in color. Nude, chocolate skin contrasting with his silk-red bed sheets. She was thin, but her butt was like the mountains of Hawaii rising from an ocean of smooth skin.

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He noticed his knee was bouncing; he had to pee. But he couldn’t stop working on the section he was blending. A few more quick smears, and he jumped up, racing to the bathroom.

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The sensation felt like lava burning through his urethra, but when he looked into the toilet, it was just urine.

Back in the room, he stared down at the beauty. This bitch done gave me something, he thought. He threw his hand at her gluteus, waking her up with a powerful SMACK.

“Get the fuck out.,” he said.

 

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Thursday, February 6th 

5:23 AM

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Rick rushed into Princess' side of the duplex, leaping two stairs before his mind replayed a mental snapshot from a split second ago. She was sitting on the couch in the dark. He leaned over the banister, trying to catch his breath, forcing inhales and exhales through his nose to stay quiet.

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"Where's the light?" he asked.

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"The bub is out."

"Princess—"

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"Don't start, Rick."

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In the moonlight, he could just make out her bare, burnt umber leg crossed over her knee, bouncing angrily. "I already knew about you. It’s my fault. Just go back over and tend to your company... No. Don’t touch me. You can’t touch me—you got her all over you... No. Don’t sit on my couch, Rick. Just go back next door... Go on, Rick. I don’t want you here right now. You’re dirty."

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Her heel drummed rapid thuds against the carpet. After the loudest thud, she let out a long, exhausted sigh. Then, silence. In that void, Rick’s ears picked up the distant sound of college kids partying down the street. The heavy, brain-numbing quiet between them felt much closer.

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"Do you want to talk, Rick?" Princess finally asked, "Then go next door, get some sleep, and we can talk in the morning... I think it’s better if we talk in the morning. I can't have you here with that stink on you... Okay. Do that then... What? No... because I don’t want you using my shower."

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In the end, they compromised. He used her shower, and afterward, they talked in her bedroom. It was emotional. The conversation lasted until the sky lightened by a shade or two. Against her better judgment, she made love to him before he fell asleep on her stomach, listening to what was growing inside.


 

At 5:03 a.m., Slick Rick stumbled into his side of the duplex with Miss Thang. She relieved him of his bothersome shirt while he looked down at her, confidently smiling. His bedroom was all the way upstairs and he rented a perfectly fine living room that they were standing in. He laid her down, playfully nibbling at her clothed breast. She giggled. Keeping close to her, he slowly moved further south...

After licks and sucks caused her to shake, he stopped and mounted her, pressing his taut naked organ into her quivering crevice...

There was a knock. Slick Rick turned his head mid-thrust to see Princess frozen in shock. After a moment, she picked up her jaw, backed away, and left.

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Despite the whirlwind of emotions, he focused on the pleasure first, finishing by spilling his seed on the carpet. Then he acted on the guilt, dressing, and running next door.


 

At 11:12 pm, Slick Rick sat on the couch at Queen Bees's crib and listened to her bellyaching.

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“You got Princess pregnant while you were fucking me,” she said, “you got QT pregnant while you were fucking me.

Now your fucking some other bitch?”

“Babe. I'm fucking you? I'm fucking you, babe?”

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“I hope not. I hope I'm more than just a convenient fuck for you, Rick... Sometimes I don't know. Are you using me?!”

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“Oh shut the fuck up with that BULLSHIT, Bee!” His cheek bubbled against his eye, annoyed.

“Can you tell me? Can you say 'Babe, I'm not using you.'?”

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He tried to zone her out and focus on the blaring one-eyed devil. She stood in front of the TV.

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"Babe, you can't do that for me?"

"Bee... get outta my way, Bee."

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"You can't do that," her voice cracked, tears welling up.

 

He lept off of the couch, catching her by the throat. She stumbled into the 32-inch, her huge bottom tilting it. She continued talking, her voice distorted between his fingers. She kept talking, her voice distorted between his fingers. He spoke through clenched teeth, his words sharp and violent. Each time she chattered, he tossed her; every time she nagged, he threw her. 

He flung her onto the bed, clashing his chops against hers violently. The nagging melted into moans.

After a good dicking, she was asleep. Rick got up, grabbed her car keys, and left.

 

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7:56 pm

In Slick Rick's room, the other chick was clawing at his back as he whispered sweet bullshits into her ear. The news played on his television, and his 20-disc CD player was blasting “Sexual Healing.” His phone rang with Lil' Kim’s "Crush On You" as the ringtone.

“I gotta get that,” he said.

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“No problem,” the voluptuous vixen vocalized. She took an extra long puff of the sticky icky and placed the smoking blunt on a nearby ashtray. Then she pulled away and directed him to his back. Climbing on top of his nude, yellow member, she reached for the phone and handed it to him.  Once he had it, she grabbed the blunt, and put it to her lips, continuing all action right where she left off. Thorough.

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“Yeah?” he answered

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“Rick. I firstly want to say that I know you are not indebted to me in any way shape or form, but the least you could do is grab me a Gordita from Taco Bell on your way back with my car.”

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“K,” he managed to get out as the girl rocked on him. She put the blunt to his lips so she could ride him more efficiently. Her lush curves flopped rhythmically on and off his groin, making him lose focus on the conversation.

“Shit!” he blurted out in a half-muffled, breathless gasp.

The other chick smiled.

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“Rick... what are you doing?” Queen Bee questioned while the other chick pumped harder and faster.

“I’ll call you baaaaack!” he shouted, climaxing into her, swearing through his release. The other chick grinned triumphantly—she had made him cum while he was on the phone with his girlfriend. Scandalous.

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She swayed delicately, absorbing every single drip. Rick's senses slowly returned. The smells of sex, marijuana, and sweat filled the room. She lifted off of his cork, spilling champagne onto his public hairs. His head turned toward her as he opened his bloodshot, satisfied eyes, a beaming smile spreading across his face. She looked back at him, content.

“You gotta go?” she asked.

He nodded. He did. As he got up, he took one last puff from the damp, chronic-filled cigarillo and placed it in the ashtray. The black Hugh Hefner moved to turn off the TV when a sharp, delightful tingle shot through his body like an aftershock.

“Shit! That was the best I ever had in my fuckin life!” He said with a stretch as his eyes landed on the phone. The phone! He saw that “Queen Bee” was still active on the display.

 

Afterward, back at their half of the duplex, Pretty Tony was in his room with the one chick and Slick Rick was in his room with the other. It was 7:45 pm.

“I can't have kids,” the one chick said, knowing that Tony had no condom. His lust-struck apex was nestled into her sex hole. All he had to do was push. She reached down and teased his main vein, swooshing it around in her warm vaginal juices. Tony rested on his elbows, eyes closed, thinking about the decision he was about to make. If he lost his untouched title, he would lose a bit more of his individuality.

"Why not?" he asked her. He had no reason to believe her. They had just met a few hours ago. What could she possibly say to convince him?

"I don't know. The doctor just said I couldn't have kids."

That'll do! He leisurely lunged his licorice into her lubricated lusciousness, beginning his downfall.


 

Thursday, February 5th, 2004
2:45 PM

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Slick is on his way over with two chicks right now! One is his ex, or maybe just some girl he used to screw, and the other is some artsy type. My first double date! Who am I kidding? My first date in general. I figured I’d write this down so that one day I can rewind time and play life backward. Especially since Rick is convinced I’m gonna lose my virginity to this chick. Why he thinks that I have no idea.

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Slick enters with the two girls. Tony, in a brief panic, tries to find a place to hide the little yellow notepad. Oh shit, Rick knows. He knows Rick knows because he’s asked him about it before. Rick didn’t ridicule him or mock him like his sister did, joking about him keeping a “diary.” Instead, Rick seemed supportive. But how people act in front of others can sometimes be a toss-up.

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“Yo, Tony?” Rick always introduced him as if someone had just asked about Tony. “This nigga here is a real-life hood documentarian. He observes and time-stamps everything going on around him. Yo Tony, I’mma start doing that shit.”

Because Rick had set himself up as an entertainer long before this moment, Tony and the two girls just watched, saying nothing. Rick filled the silence with a single clap.

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“Okay,” Rick said, “You ready, Tony? First night out as adults. This is it. This is where it all begins.”

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