Dutchess by Dutchess & Jeremy Drummond

Author:Dutchess & Jeremy Drummond [Dutchess & Drummond, Jeremy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781451529906
Amazon: 1451529902
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2010-03-02T05:00:00+00:00

“What Baptiste talkin’ about?”

“He on some other shit right now. Call that bitch Dutchess and see what she on.”

“And what I’m supposed to say?” Chill questioned.

“Ask her what up on that work, she expecting my call. I ran into the bitch a while ago in traffic,” Ice proclaimed.

“A’ight,” Chill stated disbelievingly. Chill takes out his new Nextel. Chirp! Chirp!

“What up Chill?” Chirp!

“Yo’ my man Ice tryna holla at you.” Chirp!

“Just come down to Treatz, I got y’all. Chirp!

“A’ight shorty, one.”

“You heard her Joe, lets roll,” Chill said grabbing his Avirex jacket from the couch.

“Hold up real quick, I gotta grab somethin’.” Ice runs

to his bedroom grabbing the wire transmitter from off the dresser. He places the new state of the art audio and video device around his neck. No one would suspect that the platinum chain with its large diamond shaped medallion is really a wire.

Ice exits the house wearing baggy black Roca wear jeans, a red, black, green, and yellow Bob Marley T-shirt, and crispy black Italian Air Force Ones. He throws on his matching black Pelle Pelle jacket as he exits the door. Chill is leaning against the Cadillac XLR, in denim Enyce pants. His blue and black Polo shirt flutters lightly in the wind, where it is exposed from his unzipped jacket. Eeerp! Eeerp! Ice hits the locks letting him in.

They arrive at Treatz. There is a lot of traffic going in and out of the building. Customers walk out with soda cans and bags of chips, with smiles plastered on their faces.

Ice and Chill struts inside the building. An off duty police officer on Dutchess’ payroll pats them down,

searching for wires and weapons. Ice’s heart skips a beat as the guard runs his hand across his chest. He relaxes moments later when the guard signals to a worker behind the glass that their clean. They are led into a secret back room. Butt-naked women wearing white masks remove cocaine from packages, placing it in various labeled chip bags.

The air in the room is cold, which causes the women with mocha skin tones cherry tomato sized nipples to stay hard. “You see that Chill, that bitch winked at me.”

“Which one?”

“The one with the tiger prints on her inner thigh, with the trimmed heart shaped pussy hairs,” Ice stated excitedly.

“Damn Joe, you stalking hard to notice all that,” Chill clowned, as they are escorted into the next room. Dutchess is seated behind the table. She stands to greet them in tight Babyphat spandex pants that hugs against the contours of her pussy lips.

“Damn that shit look like it’s throwing up the Black Power sign,” Ice lustfully thought to himself. Ice and Chill takes a seat right across from her. Ice sits upright in his chair, remembering not to slouch. The agent had warned him, not to slouch, because doing so could potentially distort the video feed. His job is simple. All he has to do is get her to agree on a price for the drugs, then say the code words, and the troops would rush in.

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