Love Groove Part 7 by Mychael Martell
Giovanni lived in an elegant penthouse apartment in downtown L.A. He liked being in downtown L.A. It was where the action and excitement could be found but right now there was action and excitement in the apartment. He, RJ, Trench and Flex had all rolled in from the Candy Shop all hot and horny as hell. Giovanni offered them anything on the wet bar to drink as he picked up the remote control for the stereo system with the surround sound and hit the play button. Rumpshaker boomed and thumped through the system as he tipped into his bedroom and emerged with a baggy of pot, rolling papers and a lighter. He settled on the couch and began rolling joints and passing them out like candy. They each lit up and inhaled. By the time Rumpshaker was replaced by Tony Toni Tone's "It Feels Good", the room was filled with the sweet, heady and acrid smoke of marijuana.
"Damn," Trench said, his eyes red from the effects of the pot. "This is some good shit."
"You ain't lying," Flex jumped in. He leaned over and gripped Giovanni's dick and smiled. "But this is some better shit in my damn hand."
"Oh hell yeah!" Giovanni laughed as he inhaled another hit of the joint and unzipped his fly. "Suck dis big ol' dick, then."
Flex didn't need a second invitation as he leaned over Giovanni and swallowed all of his dick, wrapping his lips around his dick and slowly going up to the tip and then back down.
"AHHH FUCK! YEAH BABE! YEAH!" Giovanni moaned loudly. He leaned back and closed his eyes. There was something about getting high and having your jimmie sucked on that was just off the chain. As he laid there he could remember the first time he had someone suck his dick when he was high. It was a fellow upcoming rapper and that boy had lips that were made to suck a dick. Giovanni fingered his own balls as Flex continued to suck and slobber him down.
RJ and Trench were watching them go at it and the mood was contagious. Trench unzipped RJ's pants and lowered his pants and devoured his dick like it was the last one he would have. RJ arched his back and cried it. Damn, it felt too fucking good. RJ looked down at Trench working on his dick. It was wild watching his dick go in and out of Trench's hot mouth and the faster RJ fucked Trench's mouth, the faster and harder he sucked RJ's dick. RJ was feeling the effects of the weed and the dick sucking and he just knew he was not going to make it. Suddenly, Jerome creeped into his mind. Sweet and sexy Jerome with his fine brown ass and sexy eyes. Jerome Browne, who he was falling in love with. Jerome Browne that stood him up and played him like a fool. But he still wanted Jerome Browne and he still loved Jerome Browne. Maybe there was an explanation? What if something had happened to him? What if...RJ's thoughts were drowned out by a loud moan and it took RJ a few seconds to realize it was him. He had shot a load on the chest and face of Trench. He had never cum that fast before but Trench had a mouth that worked miracles. Trench looked up at RJ and grinned.
"Was that good, baby?" He asked.
"Damn Good." RJ sighed.
"Good. Now roll over cause I want some of that chocolate ass." Trench ordered and before RJ knew it he had rolled over and sticking his ass in the air. Trench smiled as he shoved his face into RJ's ass and let his tongue do the work. RJ yelped and squirmed as he felt Trench's hot tongue invade his ass.
Giovanni and Flex were lost in their own world of lust. Giovanni had Flex bent over the back of the sofa and was pounding his ass for all it was worth. His thighs were slapping off of Flex's ass as he pounding and plunged him. Flex moaned and groaned and grit his teeth with each deep penetrating plunge. He felt like his whole body was paralyzed as he felt Giovann's thick dick driving in and out of his ass. It felt like it was tearing him open.
"Who's ass is this!" Giovanni demanded between powerful plunges.
"It's yo ass!" Flex answered.
"You damn right and don't forget that shit." Giovanni replied as he continued working Flex's ass. It wasn't much longer before Giovanni shot a load in Flex's hot ass.
"AAAAH DAMN! FUCK!" Giovanni let out as he shuttered and shook.
"I want some more," Flex moaned.
"Damnit boy, you gonna get a ho lot mo!" Giovanni declared.
RJ could feel Trench's dick in his ass and it was great, though not as great as Jerome's big thick dick. Damn! Why was Jerome on his mind now? Why did he even care about that son of a bitch? Right now he was getting dick down and Jerome fucking Browne was on his mind. Why? WHY?
Tee was watching Jerome sleep, at least he assumed it was sleep. He knew Jerome wasn't dead and he was glad for that but what he wanted to know was what was up? Tee had managed to get Jerome back to his place, a trip in which Jerome passed out into sleep and remained in that state even as Tee carried him into the house and laid him on the bed. He removed Jerome's shoes and shirt and stopped short of removing his pants.
The doorbell rang and Tee, with gun in hand, went to the door. He looked through the peep hole, he put away his gun and opened the door. Standing there was a six foot six inch tall brother with a shaved bald head and a mustache and goatee. He was wearing a black turtleneck with a full length leather trenchcoat wrapped around him and a pair of dark glasses. He and Tee bore a resemblance to each other. They were cousins, ofcourse. The man's name was Mohammed Mustafa Said, Big Mo to his friends and enemies. Tee and Mo had once been bodyguards and enforcers for the well known gangsta rapper and now convicted murderer Kingdom James. They stayed in close contact and whenever the other needed help they would call the other to help out. Mo was the type of man who could find out anything if it was out there on the street to be found.
"Sup Tee?" the man said.
"C'mon in. Mo," Tee said as he stepped aside to let the man in, "Have a seat."
"What up, brotha Tee? I got your jeep and parked it out back."
"Thanks brotha Mo." Tee said as he soul embraced Mo. "Looks like our brotha got himself in a jam." Tee said.
"What happen?" Mo asked, as he lowered his large frame onto the leather sofa.
"Brotha Mo, I think something is going on. I think Jerome is in danger. I think he was drugged."
"Where do you have brotha Jerome?" Mo asked as he stood up.
Tee escorted him into Jerome's bedroom where Jerome was still out cold. Mohammed knelt down next to the bed and felt Jerome's pulse. He then opened his closed eyelids and look at his pupils. He felt his skin with the back of his hand. He checked Jerome's fingernails and toes. Mohammed left no part of Jerome's body unexamined. He even removed Jerome's clothes. Once he was done, he covered Jerome in the bed sheet.
"Who he been sexing tonight?" Mohammed asked.
"How you know that?" Tee asked.
Mohammed didn't answer. "Who is the man Jerome been sexing tonight?"
"Damn if I know. He's been seeing this brotha named RJ lately."
"He see him tonight?"
"He was supposed to, but I staked out RJ's place and RJ left alone and Jerome came by all fucked up much later." Tee explained.
"He sexing someone else then."
It hit Tee like a ton of bricks. "DAMNIT! Khalil!"
"Who that?" Mohammed asked.
"Khalil is this pretty boy who's fucking Lawrence Avery Duke. Jerome been boning him and RJ."
"You thinking he did this to Jerome?" Mohammed asked.
"I don't know what to think, cuz. I know something ain't right. Something ain't right at all."
"Where were they knocking boots?"
"The Wilshire Plaza."
"We need to roll out and check the scene." Mohammed suggested.
"What about Jerome? I can't leave him here alone." Tee said.
"He will be ok. I'll call Meeka and have her swing over and check on him. She straight and all. Then we will roll out and check out the Wilshire Plaza."
Sgt. Cleo Jones and Lt. Richard Dennis arrived at the Wilshire Plaza about thirty minutes after getting the call about a possible homicide. Sgt. Jones had rolled his eyes when the call came in. Lt. Dennis commented that it must be something in the water. They met the hotel night manager, Don Wayne, in the lobby. The young causasian man was 29 years old. Kind of nerdy with red hair, pale skin and a thick mustache. After talking to the manager they made their way to the hotel room where the body was. Three uniformed officers were there on the scene. One hispanic, one black and one white. Their names; Fuentes, Smith and Hopkins. Jones and Dennis flashed their badges and walked in. The scene was the same as it was when the night manager discovered the body and called the police. Lt. Dennis approached the hispanic officer, Fuentes.
"So who is the stiff?" He asked.
"His name is Khalil and he is a well known singer. He was nominated for a grammy this year." Fuentes stated.
"Shee-it! A damn celebrity death." Jones commented.
"What happened?" Dennis asked as he surveyed the scene. He could tell by the candles and the general state of the room that romance was the intent.
"Well, sir," Office Hopkins, the white officer, spoke. "Apparently the victim here reserved and checked into this room with the intent of...of...a romantic interlude which ended in...well, murder."
Lt. Dennis looked at officer Hopkins and sighed. "And you are certain of this? Murder?"
"Oh yes sir. Definitely murder."
"LT!" Sgt. Jones was kneeling over the body of Khalil. "Check this out."
Dennis joined Jones. He looked at where Jones was pointing. Khalil, a very handsome brother indeed, had bruises are marks around his neck. The sure sign of being choked.
"I'll be damned!" Dennis snorted, "What is going on around here? Officer Smith!"
Officer Smith, the black officer, walked over. "Yes sir?"
"Call forensics and the M.E's office and tell them we have a homicide here. Alert them that this is a celebrity homicide and to keep this as quite as possible. I don't want fifty million reporters and fans and what have you swarming all over this place."
"Yes, sir." Officer Smith said.
"Oh and Smitty," Sgt. Jones said. "Get that night manager up here. We need to know who he was sharing this room with."
Smith cleared his throat. "We know who sir."
Dennis looked at Jones.
Jones looked at Dennis.
Dennis and Jones looked at Smith.
"He was sharing the room with a...Jerome Browne."
"And where is Mr. Browne?" Dennis asked.
"No idea yet sir." Officer Smith said.
"Officer Smith," Lt. Dennis said. "Let's find out where Jerome Browne is...right this minute." And as Officer Smith walked away Dennis couldn't shake the idea of this becoming another messy case like the OJ fiasco. He hated celebrity homicides and this one was going to have the added touch of being a gay-related homicide. Did Khalil make a move on Jerome Browne? Did Browne do this because he wasn't down with that? Maybe it was a lover's spat? First Tony Romero and now Khalil. Lt. Dennis had no idea at the time that any of this was related to each other.