The Hired Gun Ch. 07

The doorbell could be heard from the other side of the door louder than he would've expected. Jaquan inched back from the door unsure of what to expect as he heard some sort of commotion behind it followed by some heavy footfalls. Jaquan took a step backward off the stoop leaving one on top of it as he favored his keychain. His sports car was parked two doors over angled for a quick takeoff if needed.

"Who are you?!" The thick door on the other side of the locked screen was snatched open revealing this angry looking woman with an extreme mean mug.

"Oh sorry, I know this is gonna sound crazy but uh, did this guy named Andre turn up at your house?"

"Who's asking?"

"Yeah, uh sorry my name is Jaquan; uhm, and you are?"

"Martha."

She didn't say anything for a few minutes checking him out through the thick screen door.

"Jaquan, huh?" There was a dripping sarcasm in her voice that didn't go unnoticed as he averted his eyes for an instant waiting for the next shoe to drop.

"...and you say that you're here on my stoop looking for some nigga, named Andre? I mean, what makes you think this Andre nigga over here; I mean how do you know to find him, here bruh?"

"Uh, oh yeah; he's got a uh, Nintendo Switch with that find my phone shit on it."

"Find my phone shit, huh; is that right?"

"Yeah, how else would I know where he is, ma'am?" Jaquan worked to keep his tone even and respectful but felt like flipping her the bird due to the antagonistic look on her face. His mind told him she looked like a female version of the Grinch, facially.

"I don't know; just wanted to make sure you were looking for the right person, bruh?"

"Who else would I be looking for?" There was a tinge of irritation in his voice while she sized him up.

"Ahm just saying that you sure the only person you're looking for is Andre, right?" His brow furrowed at the question.

"Yeah." Jaquan shrugged, arms slightly outstretched in a reactionary gesture. Martha opened the inside door a little wider stepping out directly in front of the locked screen door. He could see that she was wearing a Green Bay Packers nightshirt from the abdomen upward due to a solid metal panel which was level with her waist in the opposite direction.

Martha clicked the lock on the screen door cautiously pushing it open still aggressive looking.

"Uhm..." Jaquan managed to catch himself as her full body came into view. Martha's pear shaped zaftig frame skewed towards the bottom heavy with immediate similarities to his current tenant, Rashida Sikes known online plain and simple, as Thunda. The two women could have been relatives, figure wise.

"Hey bruh, you good?"

"Huh?"

"I see you tripping; so, I'm asking if you're good because I don't needs the shits if I let you up in my house. Are you good; or are you dumb?"

"I'm fine Martha; is Andre here?"

"Why don't you come inside and have a seat in the living room if you don't mind waiting a minute or two."

"Uh, did he go somewhere?"

"In or out, bruh?" The look on her face made it seem as if she wanted to flip him the bird, despite the open screen door invitation.

"Guess I'm coming in." Jaquan shrugged off his initial reservations walking inside as she drifted to the side holding the screen door. He couldn't help stealing another glance at her body finding the ridiculous curve of the closest hip before noticing Martha shooting him a death glare.

"Bruh, you dumb?"

"No, sorry." Martha didn't react, simply gesturing towards the narrow corridor next to the living room. She seemed slightly impatient, sliding alongside him pointing into the entrance leading to the cozy interior bordered on one side by an extra-large flat screen television in front of a stuffed mantle place.

"Alright, why don't you set down on that love seat." Jaquan followed her direction sitting down on the closest piece of furniture facing the far wall and another living room where he found himself looking at a rectangular oil painting of two dark skinned black schoolgirls on an old school El train. A narrow table was just beneath it topped with a thin cloth lined with blue and a bowl of fake plastic fruit in a bowl.

"Oh, you gonna sit right there?!" Martha sniped making him do a doubletake.

"You told me to sit down."

"Yeah, over there facing the tv, bruh; don't you wanna watch some fucking tv for a minute while you wait?" Martha gestured towards a secondary couch facing the giant flat screen. A Tyler Perry movie was playing muted with Madea onscreen brawling with a middle-aged white woman in prison.

"Nah, I don't like tv that much."

"You don't fuck with Tyler Perry, bruh?" She looked indignant with a brow raised.

"No."

"Then what do you fuck with?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused my nigga; so, what're you drinking?" Her roughness was off-putting, but nothing he wasn't used to with his current housemate. Martha hovered at the entrance to the living room staring at him with a hand on her hip. His eyes drifted again noticing how small her waist appeared.

"Uh, bottled water?"

"You don't like beer?" He barely stifled another doubletake looking towards the minstrel show on the flat screen for a moment.

"I'm a social drinker; I don't even keep alcohol in my house."

"I thought this was social, but I'll get you some bottled up water out of the fridge, bruh." This time she ignored his eyes with her own lingering before she disappeared. Jaquan got a quick glimpse of her shelf-like rump before she faded away into the kitchen. There were definite comparisons between her and Rashida making him feel like he was looking at his friend somewhere up the road, chronologically.

He noticed a stifling humidity in the home that was worsened by its cluttered nature and cramped furniture positioning. To Jaquan, it felty like an old lady's house, similar to one of many he'd visited in his youth with his mother before they settled into a more affluent lifestyle. His mother would sometimes visit the neighbors and give them rudimentary checkups or answer medical questions. The community became a burden ringing her phone incessantly until the house phone number was changed out of necessity. By this time, his mother had a work phone, but a move further distanced them from the past.

"Here you go bruh; now you don't mind if I smoke a little weed in my house, do you?" Martha reappeared with two sealed plastic bottles of half frozen water setting them on the edge of the table facing him. Her other handheld a Ziploc bag of pungent smelling weed and papers along with a bottle of Patron tequila.

"Uh, course not; it's your house ma'am."

"Damn right, nigga."

Martha squeezed into the narrow space between the long side of her coffee table and the couch facing the television. Jaquan was given a generous view of her thick packed buttocks and defined shapely legs. These weren't the thick legs you'd see on a woman that would one day be bigger, no swollen looking calves and lack of ankles. These were the legs of a model with small defined ankles. He could tell she worked out like a beast, hardly able to reconcile her harsh face with the body of a goddess underneath.

"So uh, you work out?" The cotton material of the nightshirt was stretched so tight, Jaquan could see her deep rear cleavage.

"What do you think, bruh?" Martha replied wholly masculine producing a glass which she poured a shot of patron into while rolling a joint. The small bottle was chilled with whisps of cold air drifting off it.

"Uh, just asking ma'am; I guess I was making small talk."

"Oh yeah; is that what you were doing, huh bruh? Ain't you gonna drink your water?"

"Oh YEAH!" Jaquan perked up snatching a bottle jerkily opening it, finding it hard to look away from the disparaging expression on Martha's face. He spilled a little in his lap under her gaze as she wrapped the joint.

"Relax my nigga; and don't spill water all over the spot or you gonna be hitting up that mop game before you bounce."

"Yeah, okay."

"No, it ain't no fucking "yeah, okay" bruh; I like to keep my shit nice and motherfucking pristine, Jaquan. Ain't you gonna drink your water?"

He took a sip still looking at her face as she picked up a vintage coffee table lighter blazing up. Martha took a long drag after a few puffs, still watching Jaquan like a hawk. She was sitting hunched over her stash as she picked up her glass taking a sip between puffs.

"You like it?"

"Huh?"

"What you see? That's what I'm asking because you been burning a hole in my fucking face and my ass, since you turned up." She took a second sip of her beverage still staring a hole of her own in his face.

"Sorry about that; it's not personal." Jaquan answered taking a tentative sip of water mentally telling himself not to spill it. He felt small under her gaze and couldn't figure out why as she leaned back resting an arm across the top of the couch. He noticed it was covered in plastic with a light blue sheet draped over it. Martha folded one leg over the other revealing some serious thigh meat.

"Seems personal to me bruh; you're sort of uh, corny and shit. I'm your type or something, huh Jaquan?"

He felt this sort of lump in his throat unsure of how to answer. From the neck down, he would undeniably put a ring on it, but her face looked ready to go a hundred rounds of Irish boxing. He couldn't get over her face which was the worst part of a body that could stop traffic on the freeway.

"Bruh, it's cool; I got hella ass and legs, okay nigga? You remind me of my last supervising job; I had to hide all of this cake or work would've been hell. People got used to seeing me in this baggy uniform until my last day; gave this one little nigga the time of his life. You ain't gotta be shy about it bruh; I know what I'm working with, even my ugly mug."

"UH, YOU WORK OUT?!" Jaquan facepalmed squeezing the top of his half full water bottle deforming as Martha watched.

"Relax; you fine, tall with a nice looking body so I know you ain't no virgin, right bruh?"

"I get around." Jaquan collected himself in that instant mimicking her posture from his loveseat. Martha unexpectedly chortled taking a deep drag on her joint.

"Oh really; so, you ain't intimidated by my wagon, huh?"

"I've had a few dance partners." Jaquan internally cringed at his reply thinking it sounded stupid. His day was already marred by what felt like a life threatening experience at the park. That situation sent him running into the arms of a fellow online performer Esther aka Mz. Giggles.

Martha took another sip from her glass obviously checking him out.

"Is Andre uh, far away; like at a grocery store or something?" He remembered himself as she took another sip of patron followed by a puff.

"Or something." Martha replied coyly knowing it would go right over his head.

"Huh?"

"Hey man, tell me something...is that fool Andre, retarded or something? That boy popped up over here with a fucking Nintendo Switch; what's up with that shit?" Her question made him relax a bit more gradually realizing maybe they really were waiting for his dimbulb rival. The atmosphere lightened a bit.

"You know, I'm still trying to figure that shit out." Both of them shared a hearty laugh.

"So, tell me Jaquan; what do you do for a living?"

He hesitated for a moment not wanting to reveal his status as a lightweight trust fund baby because of how it might look to a woman that appeared to share his mother's age group.

"I'm a uh, content creator."

"Content creator?!" Martha reacted with a confused, partially grossed out expression, favoring her smoldering joint.

"Influencer? Uh, I make videos for uh, social media; it's pretty lucrative, Martha." Jaquan exaggerated blurring the lines of his role as an online male porn talent.

"Is that right?" She rubbed her chin smiling as he took a swig from his water bottle.

"So, you make fuck movies, too?"

Jaquan coughed profusely spitting out some of the water wetting the tank covering his chiseled torso. Martha had a hearty laugh at his expense taking another sip and drag from her glass and joint respectively. It took Jaquan a minute to compose himself, finding her sitting there watching with a smirk. He instantly knew his secret was out in the open just by the angry sarcastic look on her face.

"He told us about that shit already."

"Us?"

"Don't worry about that, bruh; so, you make fuck movies on the internet too, right boy?" He suddenly felt embarrassed, hesitating to answer, prompting Martha to make a gesture wanting an answer.

"Uh yeah, I'm an adult model." He responded somewhat reluctantly.

"That's like a pornstar, ain't it?"

"I guess." He answered peevishly under her intense glare.

"You guess...or you know, bruh?" She seemed to be enjoying watching him twist in the wind as she made a chopping motion with her hand emphasizing her point.

"I... know." He forced it out in the open between them.

"So, you make fuck movies?"

"Yeah."

Martha didn't say anything leaning back further arching her lower back as he noticed the outline of her small breasts, specifically her hardened nipples through the night shirt covering a body that belonged to a much younger woman in her prime. She took a puff blowing a cloud of wispy smoke into the air before looking into her empty glass, then at his face again. Jaquan took a sip of water looking at her smirking.

"Hey bruh, come over here and fill my glass."

"What?"

"Come over here and fill my fucking glass, nigga." Martha didn't mince words gesturing with her empty glass.

Jaquan found himself responding to some unspoken authority in this mature woman's voice, despite himself being an early thirtysomething. He got up slowly at an angle under her watchful gaze feeling somewhat conflicted internally as he picked up the chubby bottle of patron uncorking it. She held out her glass as Jaquan carefully filled it, doing his best not to spill a drop. When he went to set it down, Martha lightly captured his wrist. He froze in place still bent over, finding a toothy grin on her face.

"Have a seat, bruh; I'm tired of looking uhm, in that direction." Both of them knew she was full of it, but Jaquan turned at the hip gently sitting down beside her on the love seat facing the flatscreen television.

"Alright, uhm is Andre uh, far away at a store or something?"

"Don't worry about that shit; tell me about it." Martha ignored the question, blowing a cloud of weed smoke into his face before taking a sip of her drink.

"Tell you about what?"

"Fuck movies." He felt his pulse quicken knowing this woman was a cougar obviously on the prowl but couldn't think of a way to steer clear of her intentions.

"What do you wanna know about that?"

"I wanna know about you, bruh?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, have you been doing it for a long time and shit; or like, are you new?" Martha turned in his direction with an elbow propped up on the couch.

Her hand favored the glass, which she shook lightly swishing up the liquid inside as she puffed again. Jaquan knew he was in a certified role reversal at this point. Martha was chatting him up, spitting game at a seasoned player with a ridiculously high body count. Her confidence was palpable to the ninth degree while his seemed to ebb and flow as she crossed a leg exposing a healthy looking thigh.

"Haven't been doing it that long; just under a year. I mean uh, I don't work for any professional companies, not that I'm ruling that out in the long term. Right now, I like uh, staying where I am."

"Fuck." Martha scoffed.

"What?"

"Shit bruh, don't you know how to talk to women; and why you so fucking jumpy, and shit? You scared of the pussy, nigga?"

"NO!" He reacted instinctively, raising his voice briefly.

"Relax Jaquan, I'm just blown the fuck away that a fine ass piece of dark chocolate ain't got no game, man. Nigga you're beautiful and cut with a nice motherfucking body, tall as fuck; and you scared of the WAP, bruh. You look like a man, but you act SCARED NIGGA! You like a childish type nigga, huh?"

"You don't know me..."

"BUT I'M TRYING TO GET TO KNOW YOU, BRUH!! Relax, stop getting mad homie; we just having a fucking conversation, baby boy. What, you scared of that shit, too?" Martha cut him off sounding on the verge of fisticuffs, then softened her tone lightly running the chilled glass along his forearm.

"Hey, I got around; I get my fair share of pussy, okay?"

"So what; you ain't got this pussy, yet." Martha's verbal game was league's ahead of his own as she casually took a drag letting her retort hang in the air.

"Uhm..."

"Save it bruh; here take a puff of this shit." She offered her joint while taking a sip.

Jaquan took the joint hesitantly staring at it between his thumb and forefinger.

"What you-don't-smoke --reefers?" Martha teased using a nerdy, robotic voice that made him bristle inside as he took a deep drag on the joint bowing to singular peer pressure.

"Happy?"

"Nope, have a sip of this motherfucking patron, nigga; as a matter of fact, finish that up and pour me a new one, bruh." She reclaimed her joint taking a puff.

Jaquan downed the glass filling a new one turning to hand it to her finding Martha's face a bit closer than he would've liked. It was obvious what she wanted, but he was on pause in that regard which seemed to get a slight facial reaction out of the late fortysomething. Martha inched back a little taking a sip still watching his face intently.

"Hey, I wanna know if you're a real nigga or a poser; so, I'm gonna ask you a straight up question, alright Jaquan?"

"Uhm, okay." Martha leaned in closer than before, inches from his face almost making the nervous lothario flinch. There was a weathered, soulful quality to her features in closeup which couldn't be denied. He was afraid Martha was just going to kiss him anyway and get that uncomfortable ball rolling.

"Look at my face, motherfucker; how old do you think I am, bruh?" Jaquan grimaced caught off guard.

"Wouldn't that be rude to answer, ma'am?" His voice faltered.

"I'm forty seven, nigga; now I know I'm not the best looking bitch on the block, but you starting to get me fucked up so I'm gonna make you a bet."

"What bet?"

"I bet you my fucking face ain't gonna matter in ten seconds; I bet you gonna leave here smiling for the next six months because this was the best day of your simp ass life, my nigga."

Martha stood up sliding the nightshirt over her head tossing it aside.

"FUCK ME!!"

The body underneath that night shirt caught him off guard, shook to the core as his groin surged. This fortysomething was a sculpted masterpiece with a wealth of natural thickness and curves to spare. Martha was the definition of "Ass So Big You Can See It From The Front" as she stood over him with hands firmly planted on extreme baby making hips. His eyes were level with her mound intently before rising along her perfect bikini belly, chest mounted with sloping little breasts and thickened bullet nips.

"No, you fucking me, nigga." Before he could react, her hand was palming the back of his head as she put a foot up on the couch next to his right thigh.

"HEY, MGGH!!!" Jaquan's lips were shoved against Martha's snatch resulting in a wet sloppy kiss to her holiest of holies and slit, before he whipped his head backward.

"Tell me I don't have to teach you how to eat pussy, bruh." She cupped the back of her noggin while applying some pressure to the back of his, quickly drawing him into her crotch again.

"FUH-KIN BRGGHH!!" This time she shoved his head deep between her thighs, arching her hips towards his face with prejudice as he went for it mostly out of pride. His day started with a titanic sized hit to the bow on his ego which made him question his mojo enough to run to Esther for an afternoon of sexual debauchery. Even there, he was unknowingly out of his element with another mature woman in crisis.