Ball 'Till You Fall: Prequel To Blood Stain

By Itchie Mu

After doing a ten year bid in one of the most notorious state penitentiary in America, Dawoo Jenkins, A.K.A. Dink, reunites with his once ordinary childhood friends, Yello and Ali Bunk. They took the drug trade by storm in a city that was once known simply as Northern New Jersey. The gritty Brick City is where Yello and Ali Bunk had the game on lock, and were balling out of control.

Typically, as all ex-fellons fresh out the box, Dink is shining and looking handsome as ever. Not to mention he’s matured, which has every fast ass woman scheming to sex him, and he’s loving every minute of it and his new player status. Unfortunately, as many players do, Dink strays from the player rule book once he lays eyes on the 5’ 7” bombshell name Peachy, with a body straight out of a King magazine. Dink was instantly hooked. Only problem, she’s involved with a dude name Cream. Another known hustler that happens to have a authentic rapport with his comrade, Yello.

The Peachy and Cream duo eventually breaks up, and when Dink gets wind of the situation, he formulates his plan to finally make Peachy his own. As fate would have it, Cream would be benched due to a un-timely incarceration, and to make matters worse, he tested positive for the most feared disease in the world, H.I.V. During his incarceration, letters were sent to all the women Cream sexed while he was on top, and Peachy would eventually receive her letter of doom, as well as Missy, a female from Dink’s neighborhood that happen to had sexual encounter with both Cream and Dink.

Here you’ll find a deadly game of Russian Rulet with ‘life and death’ and ‘jail or Aids’ being at stake. Take a journey through Brick City and see the underdogs with all odds against them, pay the price many would pay when you “BALL ‘TILL U FALL.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Itchie Mu
• Release date: Apr 8, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463471562

Book preview

BALL ‘TILL YOU FALL

Itchie Mu

ISBN# 13: 9780463471562

Copyright © 2019 Itchie Mu

All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

CHAPTER 1

The party lights bounce off the wall… Music blares at a high tempo with monstrous bass… The dance floor is packed to capacity. Champagne and other expensive drinks are being poured. Females and guys dance to one of Jay-Z’s smash hits.

"When the Remy’s in the system, ain’t no tellin’ if I’ll fuck’em or I’ll diss’em," Dink harmonizes while dancing closely to a sexy-looking female.

Dink gently grabs her by the waist and pulls her even closer. She throws her hips as he grinds her backside. The two-step he’s doing coincides with their dry humping. Shorty feels his stiffness through his jeans. She begins throwing her hips seductively. Suddenly, he removes his hands from her waist and rests them around her neck. Dink gently caresses her titties while whispering in her ear.

Look at this nigga Dink! Ali Bunk smiles, talking to Yello as he sips his champagne. Can’t tell this nigga shit since he’s been home. He shakes his head, admiring the change in his comrade.

Shit, you do a stretch like he did, Yello replies, you’ll be trying to fuck everything movin’ your-damn-self.

Ali Bunk nods, agreeing with Yello.

I been down Yardville twice. He puts two fingers up. And this nigga was still there, doing that dime like a straight up trooper—

Ali Bunk nods and cuts him off. I definitely respect Big Nose’s gangsta. Word up!!! We would have been down there with him if he would have— He just shakes his head.

Yello raises his eyebrow, nodding in agreement. Who you tellin’.

They both raise their champagne glasses and toast to one another.

The DJ changes the song. Dink grabs Shorty’s hand, and they maneuver through the crowded dance floor towards the VIP section.

Hey, hey!!! Dink cheerfully sings when he walks over to his comrades, still holding Shorty’s hand. He wipes the sweat from his forehead. Let me see the truck keys real quick. I got to show Shorty—he turns around and rubs her chin—the new video we’re working on.

Ali Bunk shakes his head, holding back a laugh, then digs into his pocket and tosses him the keys.

Dink winks at them. I’ll be right back. Him and Shorty stroll away.

* * *

The headlights light up when Dink hits the alarm on the key chain. They both climb in.

This truck is nice. She looks around in admiration.

This is my lil bra’s… Dink starts the truck up, flips the TV screen down from the rooftop, then pulls the DVD case from the back seat. He hurriedly snatches one out and inserts it into the PlayStation 2 before pressing start. He sparks up a conversation.

You mean to tell me, with a pretty face like that, you ain’t got no man?

Shorty shrugs her shoulders while blushing. He's locked up, she answers in a low, soft and sexy tone.

He pinches her cheeks. So, I hope he wouldn’t come after me if I steal you from him, ’cause you look like a heartbreaker.

Shorty smiles.

At that point, Dink has his hands inside his pants, massaging himself. I ain’t never messed with a cutie from New York. Hope you be the first.

She giggles and blushes.

Dink reaches for the steering wheel. Seconds later, the TV lights up. Shorty’s eyes widen as she covers her mouth, surprised.

Damn, this is the wrong one. Dink peeks over to see her reaction.

She’s watching the screen. Several porn stars are engulfed in a threesome. Shorty twitches in her seat. Instantly, she becomes aroused herself as she folds her arms over her breasts.

Dink leans over and kisses her softly between her neck and ear.

Ooohh, she shivers. That’s my sensitive spot.

Oh, it is, he whispers, planting another kiss in the same spot. Then another one.

Shorty moans, then turns towards him as their lips meet. Long, wet kisses, along with a lot of groping takes place as the window fog up. She starts fumbling with his belt buckle. Finally, she unfastens it, unzips his jeans and gently grabs his dick. Dink pulls one of her titties out and begins sucking on it. Shorty moans as she gently pushes his head away from her chest.

With his throbbing, hard manhood still in her soft, manicured hands, Dink leans all the way back in his seat. She wastes no time burying all of him inside her wet, warm mouth. Dink grabs the back of her head and lightly humps her face. Between the slurping noise Shorty is making, and the porno playing, it sounds like they are having an orgy inside of the truck.

Shorty’s phone begins to ring. She lifts her head, digs in her purse, and looks at the caller ID. A look of frustration is on her face. She holds her index finger up. Hold up. This is my girlfriend. She’s probably looking for me. She presses a button to answer.

The music is so loud in the background, she can hardly hear her.

What! Shorty hollered through the receiver.

Where are you at? the caller shouts.

I’m right out front! I had to get some air! A’ight. Then she hangs up.

Dink’s dick is still at full attention.

You ain’t got no condom? she asks.

Without responding, he reaches over to the glove compartment, retrieves a pack of condoms, and rips one open with his teeth.

Give it here. Shorty grabs it from him. Before placing it on, she starts sucking his dick again to make sure he’s good and hard.

After she finishes getting him nice, moist, and hard, she rolls the condom onto his dick. Dink leans the driver seat all the way back, and Shorty comes out of her tight-fitted jeans, then climbs on top of him as she grabs the steering wheel for leverage. She slowly slides his thickness inside her wet pussy. Dink grabs her waist and assists her movement.

Umm… Damn, you big… she moans in ecstasy. That's right, Jerz… Take this pussy… Awwww, damn… she cries.

Dink humps harder and faster as he bounces her up and down as she rides him. Shorty yells in ecstasy. Moments later, she begins shivering. Her mouth is open as if she’s gasping for air. Her love juice drips all over the condom. Dink continues to go in and out of her until he fills the condom with semen.

Shorty climbs off of him and puts her pants on. So, what do you think about a New York girl now?

Official. He sighs as he nods, still breathing heavily. Definitely official, ma.

She buttons her jeans and smiles at him.

* * *

Where the fuck is Big Nose at? Ali Bunk hastily says to no one in particular.

Ali Bunk stands up on the couch to get a full view of the club. He still doesn’t see Dink. The waitress strolls by, then stops at his table. She places the bill under an empty glass, then taps Ali Bunk’s leg.

Aye, Monique. He waves for her. Let me get another bottle of Cryst.

Without responding, she prances away. Moments later, Yello comes back from the bathroom with a few girls in tow. Brief introductions are exchanged. Just when Ali Bunk is ready to call it a night, Yello brings a few sexy-looking females with him.

Y'all drink? Ali Bunk quizzes.

Two of them respond with a Yes, and the other one shakes her head. As they begin feeling each other out, the waitress comes back carrying a bucket filled with ice, the champagne Ali Bunk ordered, and several champagne glasses. She revises the bill on the spot. As she proceeds to set the bill on the table, Ali Bunk gets her attention.

Hey, Mo, give him the bill. He got it tonight.

She hands it to Yello.

He looks at the bill. Oh, hell no! You paying half on this bill, Yello complains as he holds his hand out. Give me thirty-five hundred.

Ali Bunk snatches the bill out of his hand. This shit says six G’s, nigga. I’m giving you three on it.

You know we gotta tip Mo, Yello advises. Ali Bunk shakes his head, but reluctantly reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of money.

Hey, hey… Sweetz’s in the building. Dink strolls over out of nowhere, sounding joyful. He tosses Ali Bunk his keys.

Ali Bunk passes Yello the money after putting his keys into his pocket. Once he counts the money, he adds his to it and gives it to the waitress.

Dink stops the waitress in her tracks. When is you gonna let me take you out, Mo? You know I have a crush on you.

She seductively rubs his chin and smiles before sashaying away.

The thing about a high maintenance club such as Club Cheetahs, the bartenders and waitresses who work in VIP are drop dead gorgeous. That must be one of the marketing scams the owner uses to get the party goers to spend big bucks.

These niggas got money, one of the girls whispers to her friend.

She responds with a nod of agreeance while smiling.

Dink takes the honor of popping the champagne, passing each girl a glass and pouring their drinks for them. Mr. Charming at his best.

The night ends with them going to the diner after the club closes, then pairing up with a chick and driving to a nearby hotel.

***

Oooh, let me see, Yello eagerly says when Dink reveals to him what he’s concealing in his waistband.

That shit probably ain’t even real, Ali Bunk counters with disbelief. Where did you get that from?

My brother Salaam’s stash. Dink brandishes a smile.

As they begin walking down the street, the trio is in their own thoughts, wondering what their next move is. Turning the corner on 6th Avenue, Dink enters the corner store with his comrades trailing. Out of the three of them, they don’t even have a dollar. Dink has thirty-five cents, Ali Bunk has fifteen cents, and Yello has a quarter.

Let me get a box of baked beans, Yello requests to the cashier at the counter.

As the cashier reaches upward to get the baked beans, a dude walks into the store carrying a 20/20 boombox. Dude has on a suede Kangol, a pair of Cazal frames, and one of those big rope chains.

Hey, lower the radio! the cashier hollers.

Dude obliges, then walks up to the counter. Let me get a pack of E-Z Wider rolling paper.

After taking Yello’s twenty-five cents for the baked beans, the cashier passes the dude with the radio the rolling paper. He pulls out a wad of money, peels off a dollar bill, and passes it to the cashier.

Dink stares at the money the guy pulled out. Ali Bunk is attentive with a devilish grin on his face. The trio hurry out of the store.

Did you see that knot of money that guy had? Ali Bunk says in a low tone.

Hell yeah! Dink counters. We should—

Did you see that big-ass radio? Yello shouts. Just like LL Cool J’s.

Dink looks over at Ali Bunk. Let’s rob his ass. He brandishes the gun.

Everyone gets quiet until Ali Bunk breaks the silence. I’m with it.

Yello taps Dink and points. There he go right there.

Come on, Dink instructs as they trail their prey.

He has his boombox resting on his shoulder, music blaring as he bobs his head. He turns the corner and takes a seat in front of the building on 9th Street.

Dude goes into his hat, pulls out a bag of weed, then pulls out the E-Z Wider rolling paper and yanks two sheets out, sticking them together.

The fellas slow down, then stop and observe his movements.

Come on, Yello eagerly whispers. Let's get him. I want that radio.

Dink stands there hesitantly as he grips the gun on his waist.

Let me see it, Yello demands, then snatches it from Dink and storms over to the guy. Don’t move! He points the gun at dude, giving him a menacing look.

Dude looks up into the youth’s eyes and continues twisting his joint, laughing.

Get the fuck out of here, young buck, ’fore I kick your little ass. He continues laughing as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a lighter.

You heard him! Give up that chain, Cazals, and the radio! Dink shouts, trying to sound tough.

Dude stands up and walks towards the fellas. Dink and Ali Bunk take a few steps back. Yello doesn’t budge.

Dude inhales the weed, then blows it out. Keep pointing that gun at me, I'ma fuck around—

He flinches at Yello.

Boom!

Yello accidentally pulls the trigger, hitting dude in the chest. The fellas stand there for a brief moment, startled.

Come on, y’all! Dink shouts when dude falls, bringing him out of his daze.

Dink snatches his chain and Kangol hat off his head, while Ali Bunk goes into his pocket and retrieves the money. Yello grabs the radio. The trio flees the scene, leaving dude laying there.

***

Yo, a gravelly voice hollers weakly.

Damn, Big Nose! I’ve been calling you all morning. What’s good!? Ali Bunk says, sounding aggravated. We need to handle this B.I.

Dink yawns. Come pick me up. I’m at my sister’s house.

I’ll be there in about a half, Ali Bunk informs him before ending the call.

Dink’s responsibility in their organization is to have one of his girls drive the stash car after they handle their business. Instead of Dink informing his driver that she’s smuggling enough drugs to give her a life sentence, he takes her to the movies or out to eat. While they’re inside, Ali Bunk or Yello load the stash box up with the material, then calls Dink and lets him know everything is in order.

While Dink brushes his teeth, he hears the continuance of a car horn blowing.

He spits the toothpaste out. This nigga said a half hour. He rinses his mouth out after gargling and rushes out of the house.

Dink opens the passenger door, gets in, and slaps Ali Bunk five. What’s good?

Shit… I got peoples on standby, waiting. We got moves to make, baby boy.

Dink flips the sun visor down and looks in the mirror. Just take me to the G-ride so I can pick this chick up.

Where you taking her to? Ali Bunk reverses the truck out of the driveway.

Spain's restaurant downtown… I got a taste for some Pyilla rice.

Get me an order of garlic shrimp to go. I’m hungrier than a muthafucker.

While Ali Bunk takes him to get the car, Dink pulls out his cell phone and calls his date. As he’s conversing with her, Ali Bunk is on the phone, setting up his meeting spot.

A little while later, they pull into Ali Bunk’s driveway. He hands Dink a set of keys. He opens the door, climbs out, then slams it shut.

Ali Bunk rolls the window down. Yo, don’t be in there all night, wining and dining, either. I got moves to make.

Dink waves him off in a playful manner, not even acknowledging what he’d just said. Once in the G-ride, Dink starts the car up, reverses out of the driveway, then pulls off.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Dink makes a left turn onto Renner Avenue, and several blocks down, he makes a right onto Huntington Terrace. He parks in front of a green and white house.

Yo, I’m outside! Dink advises the person he called.

Moments later, a short, red-bone, wearing a waistline leather jacket, a pair of tight-fitted jeans, and high heel boots walks out of the house and towards the truck.

I told her dumbass to dress conservative, he says to himself, sounding aggravated.

Shorty opens the passenger side door, climbs in, then plants a kiss on Dink’s lips.

Hey, bay, she gleefully shouts.

What's good, Brina? Dink throws the truck in drive and pulls off.

While driving, he starts searching through the CD selection. As he waits at the light, he gets the chance to find a CD for the move. Carl Thomas. The light turns green, and he pulls off, putting the disc in.

Where are we going to eat? Sabrina questions as she puts the sun visor down and views herself in the mirror. She digs into her purse, pulls out some lip gloss, and plasters her lips with the shiny gloss.

Downtown at Spain’s.

Boy, you know seafood makes me horny. She puts her hands between her legs as if she’s cold. And my period is on, too.

You got more than one hole, don’t you? Dink peeks over at her, waiting for a response. I don’t need no seafood to get me horny… all I need is you.

She smiles, then leans over and plants a wet kiss on his ear.

Shit, you’re getting me horny already, Dink declares, raising his eyebrow.

Ten minutes later, Dink pulls into the parking lot across the street from the restaurant. He pulls out his cell phone as he holds Sabrina’s hand, trying to maneuver through traffic to get across the street.

I’m about to get something to eat with Shorty, Dink informs the person he called.

A’ight, don’t forget to get me some of that garlic shrimp to go, a’ight? Ali Bunk reminds him.

I got you, Dink assures him before hanging up.

* * * *

The lights are dim and soft music is playing when Dink and Sabrina enter.

Good evening, a guy dressed in uniform welcomes with a slight accent, smiling. Table for two?

Dink nods.

Follow me, please.

* * * *

Ali Bunk and his connect are meeting two blocks away from where Dink is. The exchange goes like clockwork, and Ali Bunk hurries back to his vehicle and drives directly to the restaurant where Dink is.

Beep. Beep.

The alarm on Ali Bunk’s key chain sounds.

He exits his ride and jumps in the truck. After hitting several devices, the secret compartment opens. He stashes the drugs, kills the engine, then jumps out.

Beep. Beep.

The headlights to the truck flash and the locks are heard. He flips open his phone and dials Dink’s number.

Yeah, yeah, Dink answers with a mouth full of food.

It’s all good… Holla at me when you bounce, and don’t forget my food. Garlic shrimp and rice.

I got you, Dink assures him.

One.

* * * *

Dink and Sabrina stay at the restaurant for over an hour, eating, drinking, and enjoying each other’s company. Once in the truck, Dink secretly checks the compartment to make sure everything is secure.

You drive. I’m full and tired.

Me too, Sabrina whines. I’m ready to lay down. Where we going?

Dink pulls out his phone and calls Ali Bunk. Where you at?

Ali Bunk tells him, I’m on my way, before ending the call. He looks down and sees Sabrina laying her head on his lap.

I’m tired, she cries. And, I’m horny, bay.

You ain’t gonna drive?

She shakes her head. You drive… I got a treat for you. She winks seductively while licking her lips.

Dink already knows what the treat is, so he slowly pulls out of the parking lot as Sabrina fumbles with his belt buckle. He hits the blinker to make a right turn. As soon as a lane opens, he drives into traffic. For someone outside, looking in, they would think only one person is inside the truck because Sabrina’s head is buried between his legs, sucking his dick like a champ.

Dink has one hand on the back of her head, and the other on the steering wheel.

Damn, Brina, you gonna fuck around and make a nigga crash, Dink moans.

* * * *