Finessed a Dope Boy's Heart

by Racquel Williams

  I hated that shit, and I wasn’t about to live by them dumb-ass rules. I was a boss bitch, and boss bitches made their own rules. And you saw that them niggas was abiding by that shit too. Running to be all up in this good-ass pussy. Whoever said pussy ain’t rule the world was a muthafuckin’ liar. And I was proof of that shit.

  * * *

  I kept my pussy waxed and made sure I took my daily vitamins. So, it’s safe to say I got that sugar pussy. This pussy has gotten me cars, money in the bank, and designer clothes. I ain’t no ho, but if I saw an opportunity, my ass was going to jump on it.

  I’d already bathed but decided to take a quick wash off. I oiled down real good and threw on a silk pajama top from Victoria’s Secret. I didn’t bother wasting any time putting on no panties. They were going to come right off anyway. I thought about cutting my phone off but decided against it.

  I must’ve dozed off because when I heard the doorbell ringing, it woke me up. I jumped up, and as I walked to the door, I thought, What if it’s not who I’m expecting? I dismissed that thought immediately. I looked through the peephole and wasted no time in opening up the door. I yanked my company in and shut the door before anyone could see him.

  “Damn, shorty, you good?”

  I didn’t respond. Instead, I started kissing him while I pulled him to the room. Yes, I fucked Jakeel a day ago, but it wasn’t the same. This was the nigga that had been sucking and fucking me for the past couple of years, and I couldn’t seem to get enough. I didn’t know if it was the dick itself, or it was the fact that he’s supposed to be forbidden. Either way, this dick had this chick gooooone.

  He wasted no time throwing my legs over his shoulders and burying his head deep inside of me. I grabbed his dreads and pulled his head deeper in, almost suffocating him. My pussy was throbbing, almost like my skin was in heat. He twirled his tongue around in a circular motion all around my pussy walls. My toes curled around as my body tensed up on me. I couldn’t hold it anymore.

  “Oh shit, yes, Zaddy. Yes, Zaddy.” I held on tight to his dreads while cream poured out of my pussy. He didn’t raise his head. He just started licking slowly, cleaning it up. My body started convulsing, and I wrapped his ass up in a leg lock. I was coming so hard that I thought I was about to pass out. And his ass didn’t let up. He sucked harder, more aggressively, like he wanted to make sure he got every last drop that my body shot out.

  After he was sure that I’d finished nutting, he flipped me over on my stomach. He slid his dick into my ass, and I groaned out in pain and pleasure as I tried to stomach the pain of getting fucked in the ass without any lubricant. I loved it when he fucked me, but lately, it seemed like that’s the only hole he was interested in. I mean, I loved getting fucked in my ass but slowly, not the way he just pushed in me without lubricant. Shit, he could’ve spit on my hole or his dick or something. I closed my fist and braced down on the bed to ease some of the pain.

  “I know you love when Zaddy fuck you in the ass, don’t you, baby?”

  “Yes, I love it, boo,” I lied.

  “Oh shit, I’m ’bout to come. oh,shit,” he panted and yelled out before he exploded in my ass.

  I fell flat on my stomach. My ass was on fire, and I needed something to cool it down ASAP. He must’ve read my mind ’cause I felt when he slid his tongue between my ass crack. He licked from front to back, and his tongue definitely brought some comfort to me. I was ready to head to the shower and wash myself off, but he wasn’t done. He licked my ass better than he’d licked my pussy, and when he stuck his tongue inside and moved his head back and forth, making it go in and out of my asshole, I came harder than I had when he ate my pussy.

  After he was finished, I got up and limped to the shower. After a few seconds of being in the water, I heard the bathroom door open, and he stepped into the shower with me. He took the washcloth and started washing me. I loved it when he did that shit. Usually, it was the woman who was washing the nigga off, but he wasn’t like that. He was the kind that thought about me just like I would about my nigga. I had to say that this may be part of the reason that I was feeling him so much. I returned the favor, making sure to pay special attention to his dick. I mean, it had been in my ass, after all.

  After we washed each other, we ended up fucking some more, right there in the shower. I wrapped my legs around his waist and rode that dick while he grabbed my hips. He slow fucked me, and I squeezed my pussy muscles and popped the pussy on him. I swear I ain’t never been fucked this good, and I wished it didn’t end.

  After we got out of the shower, we got dressed and lay together on the bed. I was worn the fuck out, and he looked like he’d been around the block a couple of times himself.

  “Aye, babes, you know we goin’ have to chill with all this,” he said as he looked over at me with a serious expression on his face. I sat up and shot him a half-dirty look.

  “What you mean?”

  “Come on, shorty, you know I’m digging you and e’erything. But you know my nigga out, and the last thing we need is for him to find out we been fucking behind his back.”

  “Oh, really? Now you give a fuck about him? I thought we’ve been talking about leaving and starting a life together. Now the nigga home, you on some different shit?”

  “Shorty, you know the nigga was like a brother to me. I mean, it sounded good when we were talking about it, but that shit ain’t possible. This nigga still love you, and plus, I got a situation with my baby mother. I can’t just up and leave my daughter like that. I’m sorry, bae.”

  “Sorry, nigga. You really talked a good game. Three years you been fucking me. Three fucking years, and now, ’cause you scared of this pussy nigga, it’s fuck me.”

  I jumped off the bed and was ready to bust this nigga in his head with the lamp. I grabbed the lamp, but the nigga grabbed my hand.

  “Shorty, chill the fuck out. I fucks with you hard. I have feelings for you. I just don’t think now is a good time to keep on fucking around.”

  “Boy, fuck you! You talk that good game, how you would treat me better than how he treats me. Hmm, now, look at you—just a piece of shit like him. Get the fuck on, man,” I collapsed on the bed and started to cry. I thought that he would comfort me like he had on the many nights when I’d cried over Jakeel.

  Instead of feeling his hand on my back, trying to soothe me, I heard his footsteps leave the room. Next, I heard the door shut, and just like that, he was gone. I felt the ultimate betrayal . . . He was Jakeel’s right hand, and after Keel got locked up, at first, he would call and check up on me. Then he would drop off money for his boy.

  One Saturday evening, he stopped by the shop, and we started talking. He came clean to me about a lot of the shit Keel was doing to me. Said that he couldn’t lie for his nigga but didn’t want me to leave Keel hangin’, doin’ that time by himself. The nigga said that he loved his nigga, but he was feeling bad because niggas out here in these streets wished that they had a down-ass bitch on their team like me. Flattery got his ass everywhere, and he started taking me to dinner and shit so that I wouldn’t be sitting in the house bored out of my damn mind because I really didn’t have a life outside of Jakeel at the time. So, automatically, I thought this nigga was for me.

  That’s how all this shit had started in the first place. He took me to see Keel, and when we got back into the car, I broke down. I didn’t know how I was gonna make it without Jakeel. He had been my everything. That was right after all the bitches came out of the woodwork, claiming to have fucked my nigga. I made Mel take me there so that I could confront him about some bitch named Lauren, who was claiming to be pregnant with his child. That had been the last straw for me. If that nigga ain’t come clean about all the shit that he’d done, I was gon’ leave his ass up in there to fuckin’ rot.

  Of course, Keel lied, and like the good homie Mel was, he vouched for the nigga. Said that she had been fuckin’ with some cop, and that’s who he thought the baby’s real daddy was. It didn’t make that shit hurt
any less. Maybe that kid wasn’t his, but the other bitches had screenshots and all other kinda proof of the shit that he was doing behind my fuckin’ back. I wept in Mel’s arms when we got back to his crib . . . and one thing led to another.

  We started fucking around, and it went on. We talked about moving away and starting a life. Now, all of a sudden, this nigga talking about his bitch and daughter. Boy, fuck you, that bitch, and that monkey. I swear I hated fucking niggas. How was I so stupid to let this nigga play me like that? I was so sure he was different . . . I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing; my heart was hurting so badly. This was the ultimate betrayal. Four years later, this nigga was leaving me hanging because his nigga was out, and he was scared of Keel’s ass. That was the real reason, ’cause I knew he ain’t give a damn about that bitch or that bastard that he ain’t even really know was his for real. I guess the saying, “bros before hoes,” was true.

  Chapter Six

  Mika

  After that big fight between Rasheem and me the other day, I thought that was the end of us. But he came back home that night with flowers. He got on his knees and cried and pleaded. How could I not forgive him when I took the vows for better or for worse? That was two weeks ago, and he had now returned to his bad behavior. This shit was getting old. He started not coming home every night, and when he did, it was three or four in the morning.

  I hadn’t seen him in two days. He didn’t call. Instead, I received a text telling me he was doing some undercover work. OK, even though I was suspicious, I didn’t have any proof. Earlier in the day, he called, and we talked. I still didn’t believe him, but I kept my feelings to myself.

  He promised he would be home as soon as he finished his paperwork. So, me being the supporting wife, I decided to throw a roast in the oven. I took a shower and waited. . . .

  That was five hours ago, and I was still sitting here waiting. I was so fucking pissed off that I was shaking uncontrollably. I took a sip of the cranberry vodka that I was nursing as I paced back and forth in the living room. I called his phone, and it kept going to voicemail.

  About six hours later, I heard the garage door going up. It was either his ass or our daughter. Ky was here, so I knew it wasn’t her. I emptied the glass of liquor, preparing myself to confront this nigga. I’d been letting too much shit slide over the years, but not coming home was the ultimate disrespect—especially when I knew his ass wasn’t at work.

  He stepped into the house and hung up his key. I walked toward him with my arms folded.

  “So, this is what we’re doing now?” I asked in a fierce tone.

  “Mika, what are you talking about?” he asked like he didn’t have any idea what I could be so upset about. He proceeded to walk off, but I ran up behind him and grabbed his shirt.

  “Don’t you fucking walk off while I’m talking to you!”

  “I’m just getting home, tired from working all goddamn day, and instead of greeting me like a good wife’s supposed to do, here you go coming at me crazy. All you live for is drama. I’m getting sick of this shit.”

  “You’re getting sick of this shit? No, I should be the one saying that. You’re a married man, and your wife has not seen you in two days. And before you open your mouth to lie that you’ve been ‘working,’ I checked that shit already,” I lied.

  “So, now you a detective, checking up on me and shit. I’m not one of your little convicts that you need to check up on. I’m a grown-ass man, and I’m free to do what the fuck I want to do.”

  Slap! Slap! I couldn’t take him talking crazy in my face anymore. I slapped his face twice.

  “Don’t you talk to me like I’m one of these filthy pussy bitches out here that you’re screwing. I’m your fucking wife, and I deserve to be treated as such. I will not tolerate this shit.”

  He grabbed my hands and shoved me away, causing me to stumble backward. I regained my footing and leered at him while I debated whether I wanted to smack his ass upside the head again or not. He was really pushing it, and even though I knew I was wrong for putting my hands on him, I was over him and his bullshit. Honestly, I felt like he’d lost his damned mind, and I was trying to knock him back to his sense . . . back to the man that I’d fallen in love with.

  “Don’t put your fucking hands on me. I ain’t no Ike, but don’t think I won’t beat your ass. You should know I ain’t one of these weak-ass niggas out here. Now, get the fuck out of my way. Let me know when you start behaving like a wife and not a jealous-ass schoolgirl.”

  “Fuck you, Rasheem. Fuck you! I’m the best fucking thing to ever happen to you. You should be worshipping the ground I walk on. Fuck youuuu,” I yelled as he walked up the stairs.

  I crumbled at the foot of the stairs. His words were as cold as ice. Rasheem was known to have some fucked-up ways, but this was his second time talking to me in this manner. I didn’t have an ounce of empathy for him, nor he for me. This was far from the man to whom I had given my heart. Who the fuck was this, and who was he fucking with?

  After a few minutes of crying my eyes out, I got my emotions under control. I made my way up to my room and noticed he wasn’t in the room or the bathroom. I walked to the mirror, and when I saw one or two wrinkles visible, I knew it was stress. I’d always taken care of my body, so my well-toned body was appealing. I wasn’t the kind to just go around sleeping with different men, so I knew my pussy wasn’t worn. It didn’t get wet like it used to, but with the help of a little Vaseline, I was good. I knew I sucked dick well, and despite my age, I still knew how to ride the dick. I was saying all this to say that I didn’t understand why my husband would be out there fucking around on me. Tears filled my eyes again as I searched my brain for reasons. If this man had everything at home, who was he risking our marriage for?

  I walked to my bed and got into it. I was hurting badly, but I was determined not to let him see me like this. Men loved when they felt like they had the woman at a weak point. He walked into the room and went into his closet. I closed my eyes, trying my best not to look at this cold-ass bastard.

  I heard when he walked to the bathroom. I opened my eyes then. He undressed at the front of the bathroom door like he always did before he walked in, I was assuming, to take a shower, and slammed the door.

  A few seconds later, his phone started ringing. It stopped but then started ringing again. I jumped off the bed and tiptoed to the bathroom. I was scared and nervous, but nonetheless curious. I grabbed his pants and removed the ringing phone. I didn’t recognize the number. I waited for it to finish ringing, and then I checked the texts.

  Can’t wait to see you later, babes.

  It didn’t stop there. The texts continued. As I read them, tears rolled down my face. Just when I felt my heart break, I also heard the water cut off. I quickly put his phone back into the pocket and threw his pants where I found them. Softly, I tiptoed back to bed. That was close. Almost got caught.

  I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. I pulled the covers halfway up my face so that I could hide the silent tears that were rolling. I listened as he moved around the room. I assumed he was getting dressed for his date. He even put some cologne on, ’cause the strong stench of Old Spice hit my nose. That was a sign that his ass was too old to be out here gallivanting with all these young bitches. Nobody wore Old Spice anymore. But he swore by that shit. Could smell his ass coming a mile away.

  A few minutes later, he walked out in his shoes. I knew then he was on his way. When I heard him walk down the stairs, I jumped out of bed and ran to my closet. I pulled out a pair of black sweatpants, a black T-shirt, and quickly got dressed. I ran down the stairs, put my slippers on, waited until I heard his car pull out of the driveway. Then I rushed out the door. I jumped into my car and pulled out of the garage. I knew I had to speed up a little if I wanted to catch up with him before he got out of the subdivision. I caught him right at the light, spotting his dark blue Chrysler Jeep two cars ahead of me.

  He made a right on Walker Road. One of the o
ther cars made a left, which only left one car between us. I tried to keep my distance so he wouldn’t spot me. He was a detective and was trained to notice if someone was tailing him.

  All along, as I followed him, my heart was beating rapidly. I didn’t know where this man was heading. All I knew was that I was following him. What if I were wrong? What if he were on his way to do some undercover work, and here I was interfering with his job? I thought about turning around and going home. Shit, it was too late now. He’d turned off on Church Street. Wasn’t that shit ironic? His ass needed to be headed somewhere to get right with Christ, but I knew that was the furthest thing from where he was going. Now, it was only our cars on the road. I slowed down because I couldn’t afford for him to see me. A few minutes later, he made a turn into Hampton Inn & Suites Atlanta Decatur/Emory.

  He parked, and I pulled in and parked a few cars down. I scooted down in my seat as he got out. I looked up a little and watched as he got out of his car, looked around, and hurried into the hotel. Quickly, I cut the car off, jumped out, and ran to the hotel door. The lobby was busy, which was good for me. I could blend in with the rest of the people. He walked around the corner, so I hurriedly ran after him. He walked down to the last door and knocked. I hid beside the ice machine but peeped around to see what he was doing. The door opened, and a blonde came to the door. They hugged and started kissing passionately. I blinked twice because I knew I had to be seeing shit. This couldn’t be my husband, who claimed he hated white bitches. My heart didn’t want to accept it, but the proof was right there in front of me. They walked into the room and closed the door. I had to lean on the wall for support. My legs felt weak, and tears filled my eyes.