Dark Angels

Chapter One

"What the fuck is this shit?!"

The young white female raises her head from between the two muscular legs. The erect cock she has just been deep throating pops from between her wet swollen lips. Pre-cum leaks from the twitching rod.

"Goddammit," curses D-Bone. He wraps his hands in the long blond strands of hair and tries to pull her head back into position. D-Bone reluctantly surfaces from his pre-climatic fog as the young girl's stubborn resistance to return to pleasuring him. He lifts heavy lids to find himself staring into the deadly cold grey eyes of the Dark Angels enforcer, Caleb Angel, a.k.a "Slayer."

D-Bone thrust the girl away. He scrambled to his feet unsteadily, knowing he has just fucked up.

"Shit. Spider." He glances around the room. Naked limbs intertwine on the floor, in chairs, and various dark corners of the dimly lighted, smoke filled room. Those not fucking and sucking cock are at the dining room table smoking blunts and palming playing cards in a game of poker.

Derek "Spider" Angel, notorious leader of the street gang, Dark Angels, scans the room in disgust. Someone was fucked for this shit. The biggest night in their life and what do these stupid motherfuckers do? They have a throw a fuckin' orgy with a bunch of hoodrats. The quietness in the room in the absence of the bumping rap of Tuc Pac grows increasingly unstable in the face of Spider's stillness.

He steps over to an ugly brown couch where two of his boyz are going at it hot and heavy, doing a double penetration on another wannbe Dark Angel groupie.

Spider places his Glock to the side of the young G's ear. "Pull out, biatch and put it back in your pants," he whispered calmly. He waits for man to dismount.

The nervous gangsta cautiously draws his still hard dick from the girl's ass.

As soon as the gang member detaches himself from her, the girl scrambles off the cock she has just been riding with abandonment. She scopes her clothes from the floor and rushes from the room.

Spider points the weapon at D-Bone, but includes all his boyz in the threat when he tells them, "I should fuckin' put a cap in every one of your sorry asses."

A still naked D-Bone steps forward to try to defuse the situation. "Yo, Spider, man. We were just letting off a little steam, before the Mantez boys rolled up."

His attempt to excuse their behavior falls on deaf ears.

"Shut the fuck up," Spider snaps at D-Bone. He turns to Slayer. "Can you believe this shit? The Mantez brothers on their way over here and these motherfucking pussies are fuckin' around in my living room. Is this what I got to fuckin' work with?" He continues to rage, not expecting a response to his questions or heated statements. "Handle this fucking mess, Slay. If I do it, I'll fuckin' kill all of them."

Everyone watches Spider stalk out of the room, piss steaming from the top of his head. Heart beats return to their normal rhythm. The fear seeps from their eyes as they hear a door down the long hallway slam close.

Slayer turns to his crew. "You heard him. Get this shit cleaned up." No one dared to back talk Spider's Angel of Death.

The Dark Angel's enforcer opposing figure stands over six feet and weight tops two hundred pounds of pure muscular strength. Even without his deadly reputation, he commanded fear from his hommies and begrudging respect from his enemies.

Only fools and D-Bone dared challenge the man.

Silently, Slayer pulls a chair away from the dining table and positions himself in the middle of the room to oversee the cleanup. He keeps an eye on D-Bone, knowing the challenge was a certainty.

More than one of the young girls in the room openly sends the opposing figure admiring glances. The piercing steel metal gaze draws them willingly toward a vortex of extreme lust.

Slayer dismisses the lustful stares with a cynical smile. Shit. Two years ago, you would've been deep in pussy right alongside these stupid fucks. What the hell had changed? No matter how many times Slayer asks himself that question, the answer still eludes him. He even had tried to talk his brother out of this meeting with the Mantez brothers. Spider had dreams of going big time. He saw himself driving a fucking Benz, while sipping Cristal from crystal champagne glasses. A classy woman hanging on his arm. Forget the rats from their hood, willing to suck any cock for a hit on the crack pipe or a rep for being a Dark Angel fuck ho. The Mantez organization represented everything spider wanted in life.

Slayer had his doubts.

Something about the Mantez and their crew puts Slayer on the defense. Don't trust a bitch you can't look in the eyes, was the creed Slayer lives by. At each meeting with representatives of the Mantez, the other men's eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses. The one occasion that D-Bone had challenged the men to remove their glasses had been a near disaster. It had taken Spider months to convince the Mantez brothers to reengage. It just perked Slayer interest that these bastards wore tinted glasses even at night. Fuckin' weird.

Slayer watches D-Bone walk toward him still unclothed. Here it comes, Slayer thought to himself. The stupid motherfucker never learns. It was time he got schooled. Slayer tensed up his body. Better to go on the offense than wait around for this bitch to attack.

D-Bones recent initiation into the Dark Angels had happened despite the many objections Slayer had put to his older brother. D-Bone has the connection on the street that most gangsta dreamed about. His father was an old G that still had connection in the Atlanta police department Spider coveted and planned to use to move to the next level.

"Godamn, D-Bone put that fucking Monster back in his cage, will ya," said Slayer half joking. He reaches down beside his chair and throws a pair of jeans in his direction.

D-Bone catches the designer pants against an impressive chest, sculpted thanks to a two year hiatus in the Fulton county youth detention center. He climbs into the pants and stuffs his cock away with a mocking smile twisting his full lips.

"Now the honnies are gonna be disappointed."

"I'm sure with the promise of a rock after the meeting, they're be okay," said Slayer.

"Ha. Ha. Fuckin' comedian," says D-Bone with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Fuckin' Spider is letting these Mexicans fuck with his head." He pulls a young girl, barely pass the age of consent, to his side.

Slayer recalls the party the Dark Angels had attended last Friday, celebrating this same girl's eighteenth birthday. D-Bone and his boyz had pulled a chain on girl, who had been flying high on Ecstasy. He doubts she even remembered that half the guys in this room had shot his wad into her overused twat. Maybe she didn't even care. Most of the groupies didn't. They wore their reputation around their necks like a badge of honor.

"Nika's primed and ready to take his mind off those fucks. Ain't you, baby?" He runs a meaty hand under the girl's short black leather skirt.

It didn't take a stretch of his imagination for Slayer to mentally picture those long fingers flirting with the wet pussy lips. He could smell her arousal.

She gasps.

All the activity in the room ceased to take in the show.

The girl begins to whimper, a clear indication D-Bones fingers had found their way deep inside her drenched cunt. She lends heavily against the gangsta.

Slayer watches unaffected as the girl moves closer and closer to cumming all over D-Bones magical fingers. Every man in the room had a woody watching D-Bone getting the girl off. It disturbs Slayer that his dick remains soft. The last hard on he had experience was shortly after his twentieth birthday. Two months later the morning Stiffy that had been his constant companion since he was nine years old had abandoned him. It was his secret torment. He hadn't even shared the four-one-one with Spider, his best friend.

He watches a glob of the girl's milky-clear juices fall to the carpeted floor as D-Bone hand picks up speed between his partners trembling thighs. He knows by the girl's flushed skin and the torturous whimpers pouring forth from her open mouth, she's about to cum.

"I think she's ready," said D-Bone and increases the pace of his hand even more. "Are you ready to come, baby?"

"Yesss," she moans. "Shit. I need to cum. Please."

D-Bones shovels another finger into the already stuffed pussy. He smiles with smug satisfaction at the scream the girl unleashed upon the ears of everyone in the room.

Slayer glances toward the hallway, waiting for Spider to burst back in the room and put a bullet in the back this arrogant motherfucker's head. Another high pitch feminine scream draws his attention back to D-Bone and the girl, just she reaches her peak.

"Fuck!" She screams. Her legs turn into cooked noodles.

Laughing, D-Bone catches the completely satisfied girl in his arms and helps her over to the couch.

Slayer claps his hands and says," Fuckin' good show, bro. You got a double feature planned; it'll have to wait until you finish pushing the broom. And while you're in the kitchen, get some paper towels to clean up that shit off the carpet. We don't the Mantez to step in that bitch's mess."

"Shit, Slayer just because your brother uptown pussy, clipped his balls, don't mean we all have to become monks."

"What the fuck did you just say, bitch?" Slayer rises from his seat with a false calmness.

The room goes silent, as all movements ceases.

Slayer moves to stand toe to toe with D-Bone.

Both men are equal in height and weight, yet Slayer's menacing form cast a shadow over D-Bone, stealing the other man's bulk and statue in the eyes of everyone presence in the room. Slayers intimidating stance speaks volume to the surging rage bubbling just below the surface, ready to erupted and rain down all over D-Bone's ass.

D-Bones eyes shifts to the blood vessel pulsating at Slayer's temple. He has difficulty swallowing pass the lump that has suddenly formed in his throat. He knows he has just pulled the Tiger's tail one time too many. Slayer's reputation as a stone cold BK'a, blood killer always, wasn't hype. D-Bone had been in more fights he could count with the bastard. The fucker has the nerves of steel. Nothing and no one made the Lokote bastard flinch. The Dark Angels enjoyed their rep in most part because of Slayer's take no prisoner's attitude when they scratched with the Southeast Boyzs or the Loco 21's. Most motherfuckers knew or soon learned to steer clear of the Dark Angel's enforcer.

But not him. Something made him continue to needle Slayer since he found out the other man had openly tried to deep six his chances of banging with the Angels. The beat down had been especially brutal at Slayer's hands and feet. He took every opportunity to rub the fact he survived the initiation in the other man's face. He had earned the right to roll with the Angels with his blood and no one was going to take that from him. Not even this pyscho motherfucker.

"You said something about my brother's balls, D-Bone?" Slayer asks again quietly. "Why don't you repeat it? I don't think you were clear."

"Slayer, I --" The hand around his throat cut his words short. Air desperately tries to slip pass the fingers squeezing his wind pipe dry. His face becomes beet red.

"Clear them the fuck out of here," Slayer orders the other gang members without breaking eye contact with Bones.

Trey, Chain, Nine, and the other inner circle of the Dark Angels hustles the young women through the front door. None of the girls protests. No one had to tell them twice to leave. The angels were known to party hard, but kick ass even harder. Especially among themselves.

Chain steps up to Slayer's side. He stops short of laying a hand anywhere on Slayer's tense body, fearing the man's wrath would turn on him.

I should let Slayer tear him apart, Chain thought to himself. He brought it on himself. Everyone knew Spider's ex-girlfriend's name was taboo in the gang leader's presence. Spider had been out classed. But no one back then had the nerve to tell him. They still didn't. The uptown girl had return to her gated community and the boy her momma and daddy had hand pick for her, while Spider still nursed a broken heart, even after passage of two years.

"Come on, Slayer. He was just talking out of his ass. He didn't mean nothin',"

"Then let him speak out of it again," said Slayer. "Repeat what you said, bitch."

"Let him go," ordered Spider from the living doorway. He moves to stand at D-Bones back, to look in his brother eyes. Spider motions with his head for Chain to step aside and let him handle the potential deadly situation. "I'll give you permission to fuck him up once the Mantez roll out. Right now I need everyone strapped and ready in case these motherfuckesr go loco on us. No one and I mean no one is gonna fuck this shit up for me. So chill the fuck out."

Slayer's fingers twitch. The only force holding D-Bone upright is Slayer's hand around his throat.

"For fuck sake, Slayer," exclaim Spider. "We true blood, but I'll put you down like a fuckin' mad dog if you don't stop buggin'." Everybody in the room knew Spider's words were hollow. The brothers would die for each other and neither would maliciously shed the other's blood.

Only Slayer's respect for his brother saves D-Bone's ass.

Slayer drops his hand from around D-Bones throat, watching emotionlessly as the large man dropped like a fallen tree to his knees.

Spider walks over and throws an arm around his brother's tense shoulder.

"We straight?" He asked his brother.

"I'm cool," said Slayer.

"Let take a walk." Spider urges his brother toward the front door. He throws a glance back over his shoulder at his boyz standing around the room, looking relieved at the lack of bloodshed between the Angels. "Fuckin' show is over. Get the fuckin' lead out," he orders them as he follows Slayer out the front door.