Hustler’z Code: Poet’s Pursuit of Pleasure, Book 3

Hustler'z Code: Poet's Pursuit of Paradise, Book 3 by LaMont Anthony Wright “Hustler’z Code” is a work in progress, but you can check out the following excerpt to receive a sneak peek of what’s to come.

Journal entry #222

“My husband, my mentor, my lover, my friend. The only thing better than exploring your body was experiencing your soul. Listening to you share your wisdom while you accepted my truth without passing judgment or implementing boundaries. Making me live the life of the Black Butterfly you insisted I be. I am yours because I choose to be. No cages, shackles or burdens were ever placed on my wings. Making every day spent with you a day where my spirit would fly. The shower was filled with my singing, while my back bones were filled with your rhythms. You constantly told me how you loved me and I constantly told you how I loved you more. Your kiss is what life feels like when it’s lived to the fullest. I sigh in your presence and you gaze at me with the wonder of a child with an old soul. You love me well beyond utterances that profess a mechanical response to “I love you.” Talking to you is as easy as breathing during the best sleep of your life. Tasting the way you think through conversation. Drinking from the well of your inner peace added fuel to my fire for you. Connected by every possible thread of our spiritual existence; I felt the cosmos move out of the way for what you and I made real.

My King… where are you now? They tell me you’re a terrorist although you’ve never been arrested or charged as such. My King… where are you now? They tell me you are somewhere at the bottom of the sea, but they’ve never found a trace of you.

My King… They tell me to move on from you, but I search for you relentlessly. I examine the blue lines of the paper and follow the traces of your pen. I will not stop until I find you and our love is one again…”

Mrs. Amber Love Bleu

6 Months earlier…

The Last Supper

(Her Story)

There’s a crazy calm that comes with being comfortable in your own skin. There’s a sublime satisfaction that comes with knowing your worth. There is fire in my belly. I am in the presence of a King who honors me as his Queen. I smile to myself as I watch him work without him noticing my gentle stare. Blue jeans and a t-Shirt never looked so good. I am sitting on a milk crate that is on its side. The milk crate is filled with old 12 inch records. I notice Earth, Wind and Fire’s album “Gate To Infinity” as I place my drink on the floor; on my left right next to the crate. I’m not heavy enough to damage them but there are few places to sit in this empty loft. I scan over what was once our lovely decorated space after taking my eyes off of my husband’s back. Just as I start to worry about the movers, our personal belongings and where my passport is, the door bell rings…

“Would you get that, Babe?” Anthone says to me looking over his shoulder searching the empty room for me. But by the time he took his attention off of the stove, I had already moved my fat ass off of the crate and on my way to the door. I looked through the peephole as if I couldn’t tell who was at the door. I could hear her laughter through the door. I could also hear her new man’s just as I turned the locks and handle.

“Hey girl!!!” Tiffanie Tai says bursting through the door before I could get it opened all the way.

Many things about her have changed… but not this. She wraps me inside of her arms smothering me fast like a fire on tall dry grass. Her embrace reminds me of many nights we spent together belly to belly, tits to tits under covers.

“Long time, no see, Miss Tai,” I reply looking only in her eyes for a glance before I take a peek over her shoulders at the new love of her life. “Hello, Mister Tiffanie,” I say as he looks at my eyes only for a moment before undressing me with his.

“Mrs. Bleu,” Vonlyn says to me as he walks into the loft removing a back pack from his shoulder.

I go to close the door behind him, but he stops me gently but sudden.

“Yo, big bro! It smells good up in here!” Von yells out to Anthone while Tiffanie and I look at each other.

She tries to be cute, but I’m not in the mood to flirt. I’m not fucking with her like that. I am not in that space.

Von then continues. “I saw Latrice pulling up when we parked so you may want to leave the door open.”

“Did you bring that?” Anthone shouts back to which Von raises the back pack to eye level so that Anthone can see but doesn’t answer.

“The other one is on its way to an admirer,” Von says (without ever removing attention from his woman).

They are experiencing “new love” in all of its glory. At least Von is, anyway. She has wrapped him around her finger, and she knows it. He lifts her in the air and she wraps her legs around him. They kiss and I watch them. Von’s back is to me. I turn away before Tiffanie opens her eyes to see if I am watching. She always does. It is so weird seeing Von this way. They’ve been inseparable for months. At first, I thought Tiff was just flirting with Super Thug to make a point. Throwing a tantrum of sorts because she could never have me to herself. But seeing them in action like this… makes me feel like a bad person. I know how women are. I am one. We sink hooks in early, taking control and locking him down with soft, passionate seduction controlling his thoughts. Keeping his mind busy with constant talking, sucking and fucking. That’s exactly why I’m here today. I did the same thing to get my husband so I can’t hate her. I don’t think you can fake their kind of love. It’s all over their faces much like me and my man in the early days. But I know what kind of love it is. I know it because I was there. She is in love with the fantasy. She is in love with the chase. She is not in love with the man because she doesn’t know the man. I didn’t get to know the man until the honeymoon was over. The aroma of black beans and rice brings my attention back to my King. I like the way his back looks while he’s stirring things up in our kitchen. His clothes always fit him well… (sigh) I do hope I get to jump his bones before my plane leaves in the morning.

The Last Supper

(Sonny’s Story)

“Who I was back then will miss you… but who I am today will not,” an old man says to himself just before he spots a woman crossing the street walking towards him.

She has a leather backpack on her shoulder. He looks in his rear view mirror immediately for his partner. His old eyes still serve him well; however, there’s no sign of his partner. He looks across Water Street bringing his attention back to the woman walking towards him. “Where do I know her from?” He says as he starts rolling down the driver’s side window of his Honda Odyssey. The woman was just about to knock on the passenger side window until she saw him do that. She then walks in front of the van while the old man watches from the driver’s seat. Just as she comes within a few feet of the open window, he checks his rear view mirror again. Again, he sees no one. A quick glance through the passenger window, however, has a massive figure standing where this woman once stood.

“Officer Sonny MacCaffery,” she says, returning his attention back squarely on her. She is quite lovely. She is in his personal space. She has a sweet smell and very familiar eyes.

“I know you… My, my, my. You are all grown up now, ain’t you?” Sonny says.

“Oh you can retire, but a girl can’t grow up?” Says the woman letting the backpack slide down her arm. “Enjoy your retirement, Sonny.” She hands him the bag and as he pulls it in the window, he finally sees his partner coming.

“You better get out of here, Latrice… is the big fella with you?” Sonny asks.

“Do they send you guys to school so that you can act like y’all don’t know? You’ve been gone from these streets for a minute, but your mind ain’t gone yet. Chow.”

“Chow? These kids are liable to say any fucking thing these days.”

“Say anything … What did she say?” Says Sonny’s partner as he opens the passenger door.

He’s quite the character. He’s the type of guy who uses big words to make himself seem smart and is always showing you the porn he saved on his cellphone. He reaches across the center console to give Sonny his order of Egg Drop soup and a Sierra Mist. Sonny has to place the leather bag on the floor in back of him so that he can have enough room for his food.

Latrice slides away in the opposite direction from which she came. Sonny then looks over his partner’s shoulder to see if the massive figure heads in the same direction as Latrice and he does.

“Since you’re not going to ever tell me what she said, why don’t you tell me what’s in the bag?”

“Damn, Jimmy… you are a nosy motherfucker, aren’t you?” says Sonny with an irritated tone. He never answers the question, however. Truth is he doesn’t know what’s in the bag.

Typically, throughout his police career, he has been on this type of stakeout before. For half of his career in fact. Soon the noise of paper bags, tearing plastic and silly questions makes way for the mumbled groans of car dining. Sonny uses this quiet time to figure out many things. What will he do now that he is retiring? Why is Jimmy all in his business all of the fucking time? He told him how these stakeouts work.

The NYC Dragons know Sonny by name and they always send him something in a bag. Most times it’s a plate of food, sometimes its long johns and socks if it’s cold outside. One time it was an old Playboy magazine with 2 tickets to see Gregory Hines at the Beacon Theater stuffed inside.

Levi had class. Sonny never knew how Levi did it, but somehow he always knew what Sonny needed the most. The gifts were never lavish enough to make his fellow officers jealous of this ritual. However, Sonny himself is curious to know what’s in the bag this time now that Levi is no more. Levi somehow knew what Sonny desired most. Sonny admired the man and was amused with the relationship between Levi and his fellow officers.

Levi and the NYC Dragons were never taken that seriously because no officer ever thought that niggers had the wherewithal to organize. The joke was on them. Sonny could never prove it, but it was obvious that Levi was the head of an intricate network of illegal activity that was well organized. Sonny was a fan of sorts. Admiring Levi from the confines of random cars used by detectives for countless stakeouts.

Some of his fellow officers view Sonny’s admiration for Levi as traitorous. This man blew up a police precinct, for Christ’s sake. How could you admire such an animal? At least that’s what his new partner Jimmy asked when they were first introduced last week. Sonny told him then that he talked too damn much. Unfortunately for Sonny, as soon as they both finish their food, Jimmy persists…

“So… what the fuck is in the bag?”

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author/novelist/poet also known as Graffiti Bleu, loves and lives in northern California. He was born in New York City and received some serious game and [learn more]

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