The Hired Gun Ch. 03

"Ya' mon, right boi. You be a righteous snake in my garden, if I let you, huh?"

"I thought I was a bati boy?"

"Slick too."

"You know Babbette, it's perfectly okay if you put your number in there."

"Me be thinking you are Rudeboi, undercover."

"You know, there's a perfectly good way to find out Babbette." She laughed openly, turning to face my profile against the trunk of my car. I was surprised when she used her pointer finger, pressing it in the middle of my sternum.

"You are chill, comfortable even; definitely Rudeboi. Hey mon, me likes you, but me thinks you'll be sorely disappointed if we walk together. Me be driving all the bois crazy when them panties don't fall."

"That's special." I replied without a hint of malice which made her laugh some more and turn towards my profile in full.

"Forked tongue; me speaking the absolute truth. Hey rudeboi, you want them blue balls?"

"No, that doesn't happen to me."

"So you telling me, you be a cheater."

"I'm single baby."

"What if me make you, not single?" Babbette surprised me by leaning into my body in profile with her face inches from mine.

"How're you going to do that?"

She leaned in close enough to kiss but chuckled instead cupping a hand over her mouth.

"Exactly." I commented wistfully without malice about the obvious tease.

Babbette sauntered in front of me in profile giving me a look at her profile and the absolute shelf she was rocking in the back, then turned her back facing me. She glanced over her shoulder fluttering her eyes as I noticed their hazel color. It gave her face an otherworldly quality that I couldn't put my finger on in the moment. My gaze drifted looking directly at her exotic badonkadunk which matched my perennial online starlet "Thunda" in size, but skewed more towards Zoya Berhan and a certain baby mamma in its acute heart shape while finally being so densely packed that that its undercuff overlapped the tops of her thick thighs. That small waist looked natural matched with a butt some would think fake.

"You be thinking it over, real serious now, huh boi?"

"I take the fifth."

"Yuh wa dis yuh nuh boy?" Her accent drifted in and out, becoming thick and confusing at times.

"Hey, are you uh, Jamaican?"

Babbette suddenly bent over shoving the whole of that monster butt into my crotch with enough force to make my car shake a little. It lasted a second or two as she recovered, turning about looking me in the face as she pushed the tip of her pointer finger into the center of my sternum. She found my ramped-up heartbeat with a self-satisfied smirk that should've pissed me off.

"Me ask you if you whulla dis ass. Mi kno yuh fraid of mi bady suh nuh lie tuh mi baby." I figured out her accent got thicker in tandem with her heightened emotion as I looked her up and down starting from the skintight material covering her muff up to her luscious full breasts and finally her intense looking, yet relaxed features. I found myself looking deep into her eyes as she waited for an answer. I found it almost impossible to look away.

Luckily, we were interrupted by the loud intrusive honking of a car horn as a burgundy Jeep Grand Cherokee appeared out of nowhere skidding to a halt right in front of us. Strains of Saturday Love by Cherelle filled the air along with a strong whiff of weed as I got a look at the driver while Babbette bounced away from me with this mischievous look on her face. It felt like we were caught necking or something as she confirmed my suspicions on the spot.

"Oh shit dat a mi mada." Babbette covered her mouth with a chortling hand, then blew me a kiss before walking around the back of the Cherokee taking the long way around.

I was left with a good look at her mother who quite honestly and equally tragically, looked like the long-lost sister of Morgan Freeman or something. Her weathered features and deep soulful eyes had a story to tell beside the nasty mean mug that was daring me to do anything out of pocket. Babbette opened the passenger side door hopping into the car breaking the test of wills between us for a second before she glared at me again.

"Ma'am." I tipped an imaginary cowboy hat acknowledging her verbally feeling the fiery burn of her pupils like dual lasers on my face.

She responded with a plain middle finger stuck out the window unmistakably in my direction, then peeled out like she was on the lamb. There was another audible screech of the tires as she sped off.

"Nice to meet you too, Babette's mom."

I glanced back, finding Andre peering out the back window of my modest Honda Civic amazed at the nonverbal confrontation between us.

"Andre, you good bruh?"

"That lady was mean as fuck; She didn't have to put up her middle finger like that. We didn't fuck her friend." I raised an eyebrow with a half smirk starting to read on my features as well.

"That was her daughter Andre."

"Oh, uh she didn't want us to fuck Babbette?"

"Fuck no man; and what made you tell her about your dick anyway?"

"I thought you were bringing me to a shoot; ain't that why I'm here? Yesterday you made me fuck that nice lady after you got me off work early. I thought Babbette was the next one I was supposed to fuck."

"I didn't make you fuck nobody, nigga. I hired you to be a part of my shoot; that's why you've got that motherfucking Nintendo switch, Andre. You're gonna get paid some more money as soon as I can make sure it goes to you, and nobody else, bruh."

"Thank you for the switch, but my wife takes care of all the money stuff because 'm dumb. She always makes sure I put food on the table and uh, buy clothes and stuff for the kids. Heck, I'd just waste my check on stupid stuff, like this switch. I know you pay me good and I'm grateful because I get to bring something to the table...and sometimes she gives me a few dollars left over from when she buys my bus pass."

I chaffed inside feeling it deep in my bones.

"Andre, does she ever try to uh, teach you how to spend money?"

"Didn't you hear what I said? I'm a numb head; at least that's what she calls me when she gets mad. It's okay because she uses my check to take care of the family."

"Uhm, sure man; you like that switch, right?"

"Yeah, thanks a lot but I can't keep it at home; she will take it and donate it to our church. Sorry, but I guess I'm bad because it's really not for my son; I wanted to uh, play with it for a while before I have to give it up."

My teeth were chattering with barely checked rage as I facepalmed leaning against the trunk of my car.

"Hey Andre; do you trust me, man?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, I'm going to fix it so that you can have that switch, and maybe I'll buy you a PlayStation too."

"I don't know about that; Dayna says that's a waste of money and ain't good for the brain."

"She has a computer, right?"

"That's a real computer for smart people, not dummies."

"OKAY ANDRE!" I facepalmed again.

"Sorry."

"It's cool, just hangout while I talk to Jaquan."

I didn't wait to hear whether there was any sort of reply from my juvenile minded charge walking off briskly over the small hill down to the track. Off in the distance I could see Jaquan at one of the courts engaged in a pickup game of basketball with some other guys. Andre was so completely tired and dragged out by our mutual experience that he'd willingly given up everything to his wife who was following the company line of exploiting him to the letter.

I'd perused some of the shitty content put out with no care or consideration for the man's identity which was regularly questioned at his humiliating day job. If it weren't for his manager's obvious infatuation with the man, he would've doubtless been fired long ago. Most of Andre's coerced content consisted of Dayna milking his endowment on condition of being tipped an exorbitant amount which was destined for her purse. In-between these sessions and getting him to do it himself, she'd even made him get up and turn his butt to the cam "coughing" for the paying customers.

Through it all the expression on his face remained the same with occasional flashes of emotion. He would always chuckle and put his fist in front of his mouth when something was asked of him that he didn't agree with. Ironically his landmark video online was the very first in which he was sexually coerced by Renee Kelly aka Ms. One. It was still immensely popular, even in its new home on my website where views in the five digits and rising put it on legendary status. The comments section remained lively and active.

It was a criminally brilliant point of view narrative (Gonzo Styled) episode that cast Andre in what would normally be a woman's role in these documentary styled porn shoots. Renee was the disembodied voice with obvious salacious intent working the hard sell on this man for the projected female audience. She expertly talked around his discomfort with the camera, eventually coercing him out of his clothing in what amounted to a disturbing gender swap as she basically exploited him. Her own appearance on camera is what drove the views through the roof, nearly breaking the net before "Ms. One" became a thing. It was an extremely attractive woman sexually mauling a man most sisters would die for.

Now he was known as Andre 13.5, or the equally egregious moniker of King Ding-A-Ling hung about his neck like an albatross. That latter millstone weighed heavily about his broad shoulders. I was tipped off when I gifted him a Nintendo Switch watching his reaction which was akin to a kid on Christmas morning. I felt responsible after shooting the first footage of him with his then girlfriend, Shawnee Thompson. I chaffed at thoughts of those early days, but realized I was pretty much an innocent noob as well. My own talents were fostered and eventually used against me.

I snapped to form out of necessity after my own "happy retirement" was disturbed by a fully formed "Ms. One" now interested because I was honestly moving on with my life. Thinking about that inaugural shoot was cathartic to say the least. Renee Kelly was reeling from the latest infidelity from my cousin Jaquan, fresh off an animalistic rutting of a would-be girlfriend, Yoli. I'd walked in on them going at it with no fucks given. Sometimes when I looked at his face, I could still see it just as it happened. It was a mind movie that reminded me of humbler beginnings. It kept me honest, but it splintered Renee.

Ms. One was born of that rage and her own all-encompassing ego. She'd softened up quite a bit during our initial time together, but Jaquan smashed that aspect of her to hell for all time to come. Andre was collateral damage, a fucking sacrifice along with Renee's more friendly jovial side as she enacted a version of "Order 66" designed as a nuclear escape from a life she now hated. My actions subsequently dismantled her nefarious plan to use a hapless simp to that end by "passing" as an Asian woman, with no kids. I thought the cute little moppet who'd be left behind to spy on her father for a shitty mother.

Jaquan's daughter, little Daisy Kelly.

"NO!" Jaquan shouted as he made a layup running up and down the court with some other guys. I watched him for a few minutes outclassing the other men on the outside basketball court. He'd been a star basketball player in high school which led to his initial meeting with infamous Baby Mamma #2.

"So, you're gonna let a brother get fucked over; is that what you're telling me?"

"He ain't my brother!"

"I beg to differ; I ain't gonna lie Jaquan, I want something from you, and I'm determined to get it. We're either going to do this the hard way or we're still gonna do it the hard way, nigga." One of the men shot me a weird look as we locked eyes momentarily while he ran up the court chasing my cousin who finessed everyone else with a sharp pullup shot that went all net.

"Gone with that shit, cuz!" I got my android out filming his blistering street play.

"What about Andre?"

"FUCK THAT NOISE!!" I kept filming as he snatched the basketball from a portly thirtysomething making a three-point shot with no wasted motion.

"Still mad about that Jamaican redbone?" He stopped for an instant paying for it as the ball was swiped for an easy layup by some lanky kid good enough to play with the adults.

"That girl was Jamaican?"

"Babbette."

"That's her name? Hey, wait a minute, did you get her number behind my back? Are you going behind my back again, cuz?! That's messed up bruh, you know I was on that first, now you're on that shit again and knowing you, man you probably fucked her already, didn't you?!"

I didn't say a word, just raising a brow as a few guys noticed within earshot.

"You fuck her?" He looked crazed just standing there oblivious to me filming. The game continued back and forth while he stood there waiting with his hands on his hips.

"What do you think, cuz?" I mimicked his tone admitting nothing as Jaquan facepalmed.

"Damn bruh, what's up with you?"

"Are you going to help me or not, Jaquan?"

"Fuck you man." The basketball shot towards his head as Jaquan caught and immediately knocked down a three pointer with little more than muscle memory.

"Alright fine, I'm going over to a hotel to fuck this redbone with my nigga Andre; you do you bruh. Have a nice day, bitch."

I'd already started walking away when the basketball came flying in my direction. It was aimed at my head, but I caught it going into a pump fake, but ended up sarcastically rolling the ball instead. It bumped the tips of Jaquan's sneakers. He glanced over his shoulder at the middle-aged perpetrator who simply shrugged.

"That's my cousin, man."

"Uhm, you playing ball or not?" His innocuous tone was offensive, but I didn't wait to see how Jaquan answered walking off back to my parked car and Andre.

"HEY CUZ, YOU LEAVING ME BEHIND?!!" I wasn't surprised when he ran after me predictably grabbing me in a headlock, nose wide open. I knew enough to go with the flow walking beside my much taller cousin who looked like Kevin Garnett's stunt double. There was no doubt to anyone in the know that Jaquan's kryptonite was pussy.

"You gonna play ball?"

"Shut up fool!" I doubt he realized he'd played right into my hands on a number of different levels. I was tapping away on my android while we strolled up the small hill to the parking lot and our respective vehicles.

We proceeded out to the hotel in what amounted to a two-vehicle tailgate party with Jaquan dangerously on my bumper for the entirety of the twenty-five minute trip. His thirst was palpable even from another vehicle away. These days he was a little more secretive about his dating activities after I'd been with one of his side chicks and particularly infamous baby mamma number two. It was clear as day she'd initiated the tryst to stick to him for dogging her and to me for having the balls to openly say it to her face. Things snowballed after that with me picking up an African side chick as well leaving me in my current state.

That version of me would never exist again.

Sometimes I wondered what would've happened if I never shouted after Renee as she was leaving his home. Jaquan being a father of the year candidate, ghosted his daughter for an afternoon of sex with an African side chick named Akemi. Renee appeared at his front door with her own key chain letting herself into the house to emotionally terrorize and interrogate me until I called her out on her shitty behavior. Not used to being challenged, Renee seduced and took me under her wing.

The rest was my shitty lucrative history.

Today was no different as I pulled into the parking garage adjacent to the connected entrance to the hotel, I'd been using a day prior. The aftermath of my previous ordeal left me with an inherently strategic nature hence my online moniker, The Educated Simp.

"Hey, why are you pushing on my door; change your mind or something?" He looked apprehensive when I approached the driver's side of his sports car motioning for him to lower the window.

"Hold that thought, bruh." I'd already sent Andre ahead popping my trunk as Jaquan pulled in directly behind me as if he were blockading my modest ride. I walked to the trunk retrieving my camera bag unzipping it as I approached.

"Aw come on man; you really gonna try to put that honey on your site, huh cuz?"

"You don't know what you're talking about." I raised a brow pulling a new toy I'd ordered online from my camera bag.

"What's that shit?"

"Dashboard cam nigga, got it real cheap; I need a shot with your car, alright."

"Man, you're gonna run her off."

"Like you ran off, bruh." Jaquan cupped a hand over his mouth silencing himself as he glared at me with his eyes hidden behind some shades.

"This shit is going to blow up in your face." He advised sounding worried as I made the quick install before getting into the sports car shotgun.

"So, you're not going to fuck her?" I challenged making him facepalm and rub some perspiration off his brow.

"I'm just saying that everything ain't gotta be about your fucking bag; you been working nonstop for a minute now, cuz. Maybe you need to chill because the lines are starting to blur. Everybody you meet ain't no porn star."

"I like it that way."

"Come on man."

"Drive."

He looked at me for a few seconds then pulled out driving around to the ramp leading down to the first level of the parking garage, giving me the footage, I wanted before pulling into valet parking. I knew what I was doing having slipped into my chest mounted camera with a windbreaker covering it. There was a covert opening in the front of it zipped up allowing the lense to film unimpeded as we walked into the lobby. Jaquan didn't know where we were going, so he was obliged to let me take the lead as I produced a card using it to access the elevator.

"Hey man, I don't think this is a good idea." Jaquan revisited the conversation.

"Say man, did you enjoy banging Rashida's friend Delia?"

"Why are you bringing that shit up?"

"Just a question."

"What're you trying to say?"

"It was just a question."

"Nah cuz, you trying to be slick; I know you man, and you always got something up your sleeve."

"Okay, if that's true; why would I bring that shit up, now?"

"HOW SHOULD I KNOW?!" Jaquan was obviously agitated, over thinking matters.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"I did too; she had one hell of a big, loose floppy ass. That weight loss surgery did wonders for the girl and Rashida put in work on her look, too. Delia took a red eye flight out here just to get it in with me, bruh. I wasn't even gonna make a movie with her, but that fat ass was just too much."

"Oh, so you think you're the shit? Think you got it like that, right?" The elevator doors opened with a chime as I gave him a half smirk.

"She was married and cheating on her husband."

"So what?"

"You don't think that was fucked up?"

"Man, you fucked her too." He replied ruefully.

"Yeah I did, but I didn't know beforehand, or I would've kicked her to the curb. It was already too late, and I couldn't get it back and wasn't satisfied, so I figured...might as well get something out of it and shoot a movie, bruh.

"Ask where the movie is, Jaquan."

"Where is it?"

"In my archives and backed up on a few cloud accounts; now ask me why it's there?"

"Why is it there?"

"Because it's insurance that a motherfucker who gets up at the crack of dawn six days a week to work a ten-hour day in a dead-end job before coming back to a house full of kids to cook, help them with their homework before putting them to bed while his wife hits the gym and gives him nothing...gets his, Jaquan. You see, this brother was good enough to make babies with and live together when she was fat and sloppy, but once she got her new body, he all of a sudden wasn't qualified to slip her the pene."