Killa Season Read online

  Killa Season

  Chronicles of a Hit Man

  Sa’id Salaam

  © 2013 Sa’id Salaam

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including scanning, photocopying, or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.

  Cover Design: Dynasty cover me

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  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost all praise, thanks and worship is for ALAH the lord of everything in existence.

  Next: Ma Dukes Diedra, and Grandma Rainey love you. To my family by blood, by faith and my family of readers love y’all too.

  Next: My offspring Jessica, Ervin and Derrick, Daddy is doing his thing y’all do yours.

  Renee Lamb, Chuncky, Farryn Grant, Stephanie, Ms. Detra, Sandy the book connoisseur, Michelle DCBookreviewer, Carla Towns, Zaneta Powell, Denise Gilliam, Lee Regan O’neal, Patricia Valentine, Yvette Hill

  To the book clubs - Black faithful brothers and sisters, my urban books, Diamond eye, and the rest of my supporters….TEAM SALAAM!

  My Editor the lovely Fatimah Abdulmalik , Thanks for your time energy and attention to detail.

  Introduction

  "He's not really so tough you know? I probably could have taken him myself. I saved his life you know?" Doc assured his frustrated date for the night.

  "Mm hm, si papi." Rosalinda smiled politely even though she inwardly wished he would shut the fuck up and get back to the task at hand.

  "Who talks while eating pussy?" She wondered as she gently guided his face back into her eager crotch. He was an excellent vagina eater but kept stopping to talk. He would lick her right to the outskirts of Orgasmville then start talking again.

  "Besides, he uses guns and bombs. Me, I've killed with my bare hands; squeezed the miserable life right out of that miserable bitch!" Doc announced growing hard at the memory.

  Rosalinda had no clue of what the gringo doctor was talking about. All that mattered was he was an American and a chance at a better life. She planned on fucking a green card or visa or something out of the man. Giving up on the half ass attempt at oral sex and pulled him up. She used two fingers to guide his four inches inside of her. That shut him up. Pussy has a way of making one lose his train of thought so Doc became silent and stroked. Her soft moans combined with his grunts and the squishing of her wetness in a beautiful medley: A sexual symphony.

  ‘You like that?" Doc asked needlessly as a strong orgasm overwhelmed the young woman. She frowned slightly thinking he might start talking again. Once her convulsions subsided, he guided her over on her flat stomach.

  Rosalinda complied and put an arch in her back that tilted her ass in perfect position for back shots. Doc eased back into her wetness and swam for shore. He was almost there when he reached over and pulled the cord from his pants pocket. She was almost there when he slipped it around her neck.

  The combination of sensations had the doctor on the verge of a climatic explosion. The vagina of Latin women is a full eight degrees warmer than any other race, hence the term 'good, hot Spanish pussy.' The heat from the box combined with her thrashing around from being strangled pushed Doc over the hedge. Oh, the irony.

  Rosalinda quickly realized that this was more than sick yankee perversion. All of the white men she had sex with always wanted more than regular sex. She peed on quite a few and a couple paid their way into her other holes. No, this was more than that, he was killing her. The woman kicked, clawed and squirmed while screaming a terrible scream that never made it past her thoughts. She could feel her life seeping away with every second that passed. Then she passed. Feeling the sudden limpness of death got the doctor off with a loud grunt.

  "See! I'm the real killer! Me!" He huffed into a muted ear. He childed the corpse for a few minutes while he was still deep inside of it. Well not deep, since he only had a four inch dick, but he was still in her.

  Once the shivers of his climax ceased, Doc extracted himself from the vagina before it got cold. He sat upon his bed and basked in post mortem bliss before getting dressed.

  "What a pretty set of lips." Doc gushed as he used a surgical scalpel to remove them from between her legs.

  Doc dragged the body through his modest villa out the back of the house. The fruit tree littered yard ended at a precipice high over the beautiful country side. He took a few moments to savor the warm night. He couldn't help but to appreciate the bright lights of nearby San Jose. Even as he tossed Rosalinda's now empty shell off the cliff.

  It was too dark to watch the body drop down the hillside, so he had to settle for the sound of her body bouncing down the ragged cliff. It landed with a satisfying thud along side of the others.

  Yes, others! Doc had been a very naughty boy since fleeing to Costa Rica. Maybe it was the monotony of the village or maybe his former patient had rubbed off on him. Whatever it was, he was becoming quite a Killa.

  Chapter One

  "You ok?" Killa asked proudly as he watched Kitty walk on wobbly legs to the bathroom. He gave himself a mental pat on the back for a job well done.

  "Ha ha, very funny!" Kitty quipped. "Boy, I swear you greedy. I said you could have some pussy but you all in my stomach. Just hard-headed."

  “They don't call me Killa for nothing." He laughed.

  Kitty stuck her tongue out at him before entering the bathroom. Once inside she lathered a plush washcloth in warm suds to wash the sexual secretions from her and her man.

  Killa leaned back in the satisfaction a man feels when he knows he just beat the pussy up. The comfort that comes from when your woman is sexually fulfilled. He knew he put on too. Hit it so well he wished he had a commentator, like from a horse race or something, or maybe judges with score cards. He was one of the smart men who knows not to leave his woman sexually frustrated. That's why mailmen and cable guys get so much pussy. They stumble across sex starved women all day. Not Killa's woman though. He gave her the business.

  If he was a cigarette smoker he would have smoked one just then. He wasn't so he lit the half a blunt that served as mental foreplay before the physical. Again he was one of the smart men who made love to a woman's entire being. Extended foreplay to ensure every need was met. Kitty came out and began washing his genitals as he exhaled his first drag.

  "Boy, stop." Kitty laughed as she felt him begin to stiffen again in her hands.

  "What can I say, you'se a sexy mother fu..." The sound of one of Killa's phone stopped him in mid-sentence and propelled him from the bed. Like most professional people, the hired gun had several phones for business but this one was personal.

  “Grandma, you ok?" He asked urgently upon answering the call on the rarely used satellite phone.

  "No, I am not alright! Thisnastyasslittleboydonebrokeintomyhouse,stoleallmystuff, beatmygranddaughterup.!" She blurted out in one run-on sentence.

  "Grandma, I have no idea what you just said." He said trying to stifle a laugh. He hadn't heard her upset since he was a little boy and she figured out that he was the one killing all the junkies in the projects. She told him, "Boyyoubetterstopshootingallthedamncrackheadsbeforethedealersgetonyourbuttformessinguptheirmoney,gotthepolicedownhereeverydaypickingup...."

  "I said! This nasty little boy, Ms. Jean's grandson, broke into our apartment and cleaned us out! He stole all my jewelry and Cameisha's college money. Then, the little...nigga. Yes, I said nigga! He beat my baby up! Poor thing walking around with knots on her head." Grandma huffed.

  The sweet old lady was seething at the invasion of privacy and the harm to her family. Having a stranger in your home, your bedroom, rummaging around picking through your personal belongings is just a level below ra
pe. She felt totally violated at the thought. The little bastard had even left her only pair of thongs on the floor. That was bad but what happened to her grandchild was worse. The police could have handled the theft but the beating called for death so she called for a killer. "I want you to come and talk to them all!"

  "I'll see you tonight, love you." Killa said and clicked off.

  "Where are you going babe?" Kitty asked still caressing his semi-erect manhood. It had been cleaned but she didn't want to let it go.

  "Man, I gotta go home and talk to the kids in my projects." He replied, making it sound like he was a guest motivational speaker at a youth group.

  Grandma knew he didn't do any talking. Call a counselor or politician if you want a speech. Call Killa and he's coming to murder everything moving.

  "I guess I'd better get me one for the road then." Kitty purred; then replaced the warm wash cloth with her hot mouth.

  After sucking him fully erect, she climbed on board. Just before mounting, she changed her mind and turned around to ride him backwards. Killa picked up the smoldering blunt as she slid down the length of his pole. She treated him to the triple treat of the sight, sounds and feel as she worked her ass and hips in harmony.

  Since Kitty had everything under control, the killer took pulls on his weed and enjoyed the show. The couple had become sexually synced and totally in-tune with each other. A half an hour after climbing on top of him, Kitty rode them to a mutual climax.

  You probably scared all the birds out of the trees with that scream when you came." Killa laughed once he caught his breath.

  “Um babe, that was you!" Kitty shot back. Truthfully.

  Chapter Two

  Killa was on high alert as he strolled through Atlanta's Hartsfield Airport. A fitted cap pulled low along with the throngs of people provided a moving mask to conceal his identity. The precaution was futile as dozens of security cameras randomly ran faces through facial recognition software to compare against wanted criminals and known terrorists. Killa was both but the facelift he received from the deceased doctor made him invisible.

  “Round trip to Newark please." Killa responded to the flirtatious ticket agent.

  “Business or pleasure?" The cute Asian woman asked as she flashed an even cuter smile. She leaned forward to allow a peak at her breasts in her partially buttoned blouse.

  "Oh pleasure." Killa gushed accepting the free peek. He enjoyed killing in general but to murder someone who violated his family made his dick hard or was it the pretty young thing in front of him. "I don't mean to be crass but I would love to fuck your brains out when I get back."

  “That would be my pleasure." She smiled sliding her number along with his tickets.

  Killa and Kitty had an open relationship but Kitty never acted on it. She was content with being his number one. His home was in her heart and she knew it. When he was in town, he was with her. There were no mistresses or booty calls. There was no one special.

  "What about Sincerity?" Killa heard himself ask. "What about her?" He shot back curtly.

  Sincerity was the younger sister of his onetime best friend Rico. Killing Rico never bothered his conscience the least. Dude deserved it, asked for it and got it. Killa put him on, allowing him to put food in the fridge; and he stole. You do dirt, you get dirty. Rico's death forced his mother off drugs and created a better environment for young Sincerity. He always kept an eye on the pretty young girl until she grew into a pretty woman.

  Speculation ran rampart when the project diva named her only son Xavier. She never even told the boy's father he had a child. In reality, Killa and Sincerity had never acted on their mutual attraction. She was too young back then and he was too busy now. She was; however, the only one he trusted to keep an eye on his people.

  After finally making it through the security procedures, he made his way to the terminal. Luckily for him, he didn't have a Muslim name like Sa'id Salaam or a big beard like Sa'id Salaam, so they didn't pull him out of the line for extra search like they do Sa'id Salaam.

  With an hour to wait, he strolled into a bookstore in search of distraction. He found the African-American section tucked in a back corner of the store. The rows were cramped with similar titles and covers but one caught his eye.

  “SEX AND VIOLENCE, huh?" Killa laughed as he plucked the latest novel from Amira QueenPen from the crowded shelf. "Sounds right up my alley!"

  The book busied his brain from Georgia to Jersey and before he knew it, they were landing in Newark. By the time he finished, he was ready for part two like everyone else.

  Killa traveled light, only carrying a carry-on bag. It contained two changes of clothes and nothing more. One for murder and the other for the return trip. He got a kick out of the middle-aged white lady in the window seat starring at his dick print when he put the bag in the overhead bin. Thoughts of Kitty gave her a better show when he pulled it down upon arrival. He took a deep breath, inhaling the cool summer night air when he stepped outside.

  “Taxi?" A foreign cabbie inquired with a deep accent from wherever he was from. For reply, Killa opened the back door and climbed in.

  "How much to go across the bridge? To the Bronx?"

  "Four hundred!" The greedy driver lied. He was gonna send half of that home to his wife and family in his country and buy some pussy with the rest.

  "A-yo, do I look like a tourist or some shit? Do I fucking sound like I'm from Europe? Huh!" Killa shot back enraged at the extortion attempt. In his youth, he would have agreed to the price, paid it, and then put a bullet in his head once they got there.

  "Sorry, sorry, one hundred." The driver corrected upon hearing murder in his tone. The threat of death is a powerful negotiation tool.

  “That's more like it." Killa said calming down. He leaned back into the backseat for the ride across the bridge.

  Crossing the George Washington Bridge into New York at night is just shy of spectacular. The only thing that tops it is flying into the city at night. Killa's mind slipped into murder mode once they crossed the next bridge into the Bronx.

  "Pull over here." Killa ordered once they reached 170th street.

  "Here?" The driver asked fearfully at the request. There was nothing on the darkened corner but death.

  "Yeah, here!" Killa barked and thrust a hundred dollar bill forward. The driver exhaled a sigh of relief at the sight of the money. He survived tonight but it was only a matter of time until he was found slumped behind the wheel of his cab.

  Killa got out and gave his Yankees cap a tug down to conceal his face, as he took the back streets to the projects. No one paid the stranger much attention as he strolled quickly through the projects except, a group of Five Percenters looking for a lick. They beamed in on him when he pulled out his smart phone and tapped out a quick text.

  The text went to the occupant of his first destination. It ensured that the resident was ready for his arrival. He rushed up to the third floor and the door was opened as he walked down the hall.

  "Damn!" Was all that came to mind at the sight of Sincerity holding the door open.

  The tiny pink shorts she had on were pulled up snugly into her crotch displaying a fat camel toe. Not one of those fake camel toes that are mostly hair, as she was shaved bald. No, this was all rabbit. The matching half shirt was held up royally by a heavy pair of breasts with nipples poking through. A faint brown line ran down the faint pouch of her stomach; a treasure trail leading to a pot of honey. Killa liked honey. He felt light-headed as a rush of blood ran from one head to the other.

  “Stop playing." Sincerity giggled as if she hadn't gotten the reaction she was going for. She knew that 'lil sister' pat on the head shit was out. He looked at her like a man looks at a woman.

  "I didn't expect you so early or I would have put some clothes on." She lied. She put those clothes on for him.

  Killa shot a curious glance at his watch as he entered and saw it was exactly the time he told her he would arrive. She leaned in for a hug and he took it but
only half-way. He didn't want her to feel the instant erection she gave him.

  "This is nice." Killa nodded once they broke off the lopsided hug. He looked around the decked out project unit with approval. The floors were layered in thick carpet and walls covered in mirrors. The leather furniture had no idea it would be stuffed inside of a tiny project apartment but it made itself at home. A huge flat screen dominated one of the small walls.

  Likewise, the kitchen was decorated in faux brick and loaded with gadgets the diva barely used. Expensive pots and pans set lived in the cabinets along with the fine china.

  "Thanks to you!" Sincerity shot back with a grateful smile. It was all paid for by the generous allowance he sent her for keeping an eye on his grandmother.

  It was a little more than that though. He had been looking out for her since he killed her brother years back. He viewed her like the little sister he never had. Until now, that is, with her big caramel thighs.

  "Did you get that from your pops?" He asked as he plopped down onto the plush leather. He sought to deflect the praise and get down to the business at hand.

  "I did! Karate Joe came through A.S.A.P." She cheered in support of her eccentric father. She jumped up quickly causing everything to jiggle and rushed off to her room to retrieve his order.

  Killa could only shake his head as he watched her fat ass bounce from side to side as she walked away. He couldn't help but notice how much she had filled out. The five-year age difference was tremendous and insurmountable when they were young but totally insignificant now. She could get it.

  "Ta-dah!" Sincerity announced as she returned. She posed with the huge 10 millimeter pistol by her curvy hip. He couldn't take his eyes off either. Her other hand held the large screw-on silencer because bad boys move in silence and violence.