Hood Misfits, Volume 1 Read Online Free

simply for my birthday. I wasn’t allowed to deal in Dame’s crib, so I couldn’t look at any of these cats as money for the night. That was one fucked-up thing about it.
    â€œHey, Trigga,” several sweet female voices said around me.
    I rubbed my chin and licked my lips as my eyes ran over curve-hugging leggings that left a plump pussy-print then upward toward titties that made me want to touch. I tilted my chin up, and shawties surrounded me, crooking their fingers for me to bend down so they could press their pillow-soft lips on my cheeks. My dimples settled in my cheeks, causing more pussy to surround me. Of course, a nigga was in heaven right then.
    Hands played in my shoulder-length locks, running over my chests, and some even slipped into my sagging jeans to feel how much of a man I was. Dropping my hands over asses aplenty, I smelled wet pussy the moment they learned my dick game was on ten.
    â€œOhhh, happy birthday, Trigga! You gonna come get some of this pussy, huh?” one of the chicks asked.
    As I smirked, Dame appeared behind me and said, “Later. Let this little nigga get into the party first.”
    If anybody was a pretty boy, it was that nigga—light bright damn-near white nigga with light eyes that always had chicks on some swooning shit. Bitches had no idea what they were getting themselves into when they flocked to that nigga. Everyone stepped away from me and went to him, giggling and flirting, flipping their hair and laying kisses on his lips and cheeks.
    â€œYou ready for all this pussy around here, li’l nigga?” Dame asked.
    Like I said, I was a selective talker, so I nodded, rubbing my hands together, and gave a smirk, which Dame understood as gloating.
    â€œA’ight then, li’l nigga, quit talking wit’ ya chest and enjoy this party. Hit me up in five so you can get inked and your dick sucked.” Dame laughed, slapping the pretty asses around him.
    Dame didn’t give a damn about nothing but his, and I had to respect it. But a lot of his mannerism just didn’t make sense to me. At times he could get real stupid over pussy and product, but that was the game.
    I moved through the dancing bodies in the house. Everyone was grinding, groping, and probably fuckin’, thanks to the product and liquid running through, and all of it was for me, but really in the name of Dame.
    As I got deeper into the house, I walked past the closet that shawty was in. I wondered what he had done with her, if she got popped or not. Either way, she wasn’t in the closet anymore.
    Music thumped around me, and I bobbed my head to the tunes while grinding up on two women. Everyone who knew me knew not to offer me any product or drink. I always kept a level head in this game and never dove into using my own shit. Just another OG rule I knew I never wanted to break. Which was why I always had my own weed. I lit up and let the broads around me get kush off of it.
    Time passed and everything was icing. The crew niggas grabbed me up and took me upstairs, where I sat down with Starry, the baddest tattooist in the game, and one of Dame’s former bitches. Baby had the look of Blac Chyna, but with black hair. She sat on her knees, a pillow under her, waiting on me, dressed in only a red thong and bra that pushed up her caramel titties. No lie, her plump lips made my dick hard as some of her chicks led me into the room. I saw Dame nod and then walk out the bedroom closing the door as I was stripped naked and sat on the bed. Bad bitches surrounded me and I let Starry know what I wanted, which she digged. Pulling out a drawing I did, she glanced at it once, before having me lean back on the bed.
    With pussy surrounding me left and right, my shit sprung up rigid hard, only to get swallowed and throated. Any tension I had melted away with the kush I’d inhaled and with my dick being swallowed then dunked into the finest pussy in the game. The sound of the tattoo