Showing posts with label Iceberg Slim. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Iceberg Slim. Show all posts
This is the land of knee-tremblers and wee bastards
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"I want you to get on your knees, eat my pussy like a rat eat cheese."
Eddie
was committed to partying and "acting crazy" as a way of life.
Attempts to get him to "clean up his place" (translation: "get
rid of the niggers") were greeted by him with total contempt. He
antagonized police, other club owners, and anyone else he considered
"square," and reveled in his own defiant stance. After two in the
morning, when bars are supposed to be clear of patrons, he would lock the door,
draw the curtains, and party with the players, laughing, loud-talking, snorting
cocaine, and serving drinks after hours. "Ready Eddie," as he was
known, presided over what he proudly dubbed "the Toilet of the
Street." He had no intention of running a square or respectable joint and
was furious at the predictable official attempts to force him into compliance.
"They just want to get my friends out of here," he would bellow,
"they don't want no niggers on their street. Well, fuck them punks in the
asshole!" This attitude was well appreciated and respected.
They wantonly danced to the funky band’s erotic pound
He knew he was never going back to school. The education he sought was hidden away in the minds of those boss
players who frequented Milwaukee’s jazz joints and cabarets. Beck was
determined to infiltrate these clubs and steal secrets from well-heeled pimps.
As a minor, he had always managed to talk
his way out of prison, but he was a legal adult now, and for his next offense
he would likely be sent to the Wisconsin State Reformatory. Mary’s
absence gave Beck the perfect chance to explore the gambling dens and taverns
in Milwaukee’s red-light district. He had neither the money nor the flash to
try to break luck at any of the big-name clubs like the Congo Club and the 711
Club, so he made for the underground speakeasies instead. In one unnamed dive,
Beck found a fraternity among a group of has-been pimps and gamblers. The old
men had enjoyed moments of glory as the neighborhood’s top asskickers, but now
they were broken down from a lifetime of prison, drugs, and scheming. They had
stories to tell, though, and Beck memorized as many of them as he could.
“Sure I’m a cocksucker and a low-life freak. But I’m a human being."
“Goddamnit, Lucy, Mother Thomas and me didn’t bust up ’cause he caught
me eating a broad up. The reason we busted up happened at Mother’s birthday
party. A
young fine freak queen kept rubbing his tender round ass against my jones.
Shit, I was dumb, drunk and aching to do my thing to that cute freak. I
took him in one of the johns and was piling this foot of pure hot joy into him
when I remembered the big mirror was two-way. Mother was watching, and so were
twenty other people. He
almost had a nervous breakdown and heckled me night and day about how rotten I
was to play him cheap before his friends. I woke up one early bright morning
with Mother’s tongue in my mouth. She was in drag and slobbery drunk. Her mouth
stank like a sewer. I got wide awake and saw that Mother had freaked off with
some dirty bastard. Mother’s face and lips was crusted with shit. I
got a golf club and beat his nasty white ass upstairs and down. He peed like a
puppy all over the mansion. I did a year in the slammer. Now, Lucy, that’s how
I busted up with Mother Thomas.”
At night after lights-out, the male inmates in the cells across the
courtyard would light matches to show their erected dicks and balls to the
screaming female inmates on the tier above my tier. The
female inmates would do likewise to show their cunts in bold relief to the
profane males across the way, cheering the bitches on as they jacked off their
stiff cocks in the yellow glow of the matches. Often,
apparently, females sharing a cell would really play dog for the guys across
the way, because excited shouts rode the night air like, “Sit in her face,
baby! Bite that bitch’s tiddie off. Fuck that long cunt whore, you big dick
bitch.” It
was perhaps the horny sights and hot sounds of this nightly bacchanalia that
kept the caged hoodlums on our tier inflamed and edgy and eager to assault and
rape one another.
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