Retribution: Throat Diva 2

26

A bitch tossed in the middle of a shootout will either drop, or come out a gunslinger.

"Motherfucker!" I scream into the phone, pacing around my office, my body shaking from the inside out. "You just tried to have me fucking killed, you dirty, motherfucking sonofabitch!"

My nerves are wrecked! My heart is pounding. Seven-thirty A.M., I pulled up in front of the salon and the last thing I expected as I stepped out of my car and shut the door and started walking around toward the salon was to be greeted by fucking gunfire!

But I was!

I had spotted the black GMC with tinted windows up at the corner when I initially pulled up this morning. But I didn't pay it any mind. I shut off the engine and sat in the car for a few minutes, listening to the radio before flipping down my visor and gliding a coat of MAC Russian Red Tinted Lipglass over my lips. Afterward, I fussed with my bang a bit, slid in my diamond hoops, then finally grabbed my handbag and stepped out of the car, setting the alarm.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the SUV slowly start driving in my direction. But, again, it didn't cause pause for alarm. So I dismissed it. I figured someone had gotten lost and pulled over to get directions or take a call. But then something didn't feel right. Ever since my kidnapping, I've been much more alert of my surroundings, canvassing the area around me, taking in every detail. Yet this morning, for some reason, as I stepped out of my car, my mind rushed back to my night with Lamar. I chuckled to myself thinking about the expression on his face when I told him that I wanted him to fuck my pussy deep, then quickly stopped him when he positioned himself between my legs, gripping the base of his rock-hard dick, attempting to slide it into my slit. "Yo, why you stop me?" he asked, giving me a confused look. "I thought you wanted me to beat this wet pussy up, ma."

I smirked. "I do. But I'm not talking about that pussy."

I quickly shifted my body, hanging my head over the edge of the bed. I met his gaze upside down and said, "I'm talking about the one down in my neck." I opened my mouth, extended my tongue out, then welcomed his chocolate dick down in my warm, wet, and waiting throat, reaching my arms up over my head as he straddled my face. I grabbed him by the ass, urging him to pound my neck out. And he did. And that's where my mind was. Stuck on his hard damn dick!

So as I walked toward the salon with lustful thoughts of Lamar's hot creamy nut coating the back of my throat, something told me to glance over my shoulder. It was then that I noticed the truck slowly moving in my direction, and realized that I didn't have the salon's keys in my hand. Usually, I'd already have the keys out and in my hand, but this morning I'd forgotten to take them out of my bag before getting out of the car. It's a blessing in disguise that I hadn't already had them in my hands; otherwise, I might not be standing here.

As soon as I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to dig down
into my bag, I caught a glimpse of the SUV's rear driver's side window slowly rolling down and the tip of a shiny barrel being aimed at me. I don't know if it was instinct or reflex, but I dropped down a split-second before the nigga holding the other end of the gun opened fire, letting out six shots in my direction, missing me completely. But hitting the front of the building. I didn't see his face; all I saw were his eyes.

Everything happened so quickly. I saw the gun. I dropped down low. I heard gunfire. All I saw was my life flashing before my eyes. And I reacted without thinking clearly, pulling out my gun and in my skirt and stilettos started chasing the SUV as it sped off, firing back. I shot three rounds, shattering the rear window before the truck turned off down the next block.

Those grimy niggas had me running in my fucking heels shooting back at them, like I was on the set of a damn gangster movie. It wasn't until they disappeared that I started shaking and felt something warm trickling down the inner part of my legs.