Rock Wit’ U

Wednesday, 10:42 p.m.

Pointing and stretching her toes, she molded herself deeper into his large frame. She always felt secure wrapped in his arms. Squeezing and kissing the back of her neck, she arches her back to push her large ass against his crotch. The evening was beautiful, they ate, she talked about her day, and he apologized over, and over again. They lay on the couch watching the last two episodes of The Matrix Trilogy on DVD. They haven’t spoken a word about him. It helped a lot not to mention his name, as she wasn’t in the mood to deal with his insecurities.

Rubbing her stomach and playing with her belly button, his hand slowly massaged its way down a little further, further, and further. She licked her lips, and rubbed his thigh with greater intensity. He could feel her body heat rise, signaling to him that she was ready for him. She desired him. She wanted it. It had been a while since their last union; long enough to have him masturbate several times during her absence. His manhood came to life, and she used her large, round ass to massage it into a fully erect organ. He pushed his left index finger between her lips, and she sucked it, then another and she accommodated it. Her tongue teased his fingers, while her soft slurps and short moans whispered obscenities to his erection with the bobbing of her head and gentle suckle.

Only wanting to please him, she wanted to assure him of her love for him, so he would know that her past was far behind her and with no regrets. She never wanted her man to worry about another man, especially where it would cause him to become fickle, insecure, or unsure about her. Her free hand found its way down into his jeans, into his boxers, and around his member while she sucked on his fingers, as he sucked her left earlobe.

Their breathing was labored, the heat was hot, their humidity climbed to a hair wrecking point and she just got this perm put in a day ago. She turned around, grabbing his face with both hands, and kissed his mouth. “Baby, rock me. I want you to rock my boat from the bowel to the stern, and then water my deck all over.”

He  jumped  up  from  the  couch  and  walked  over  to  the entertainment  center.  The  CD  changer  was  prepared  and programmed earlier with her favorite tunes. He pressed play. R. Kelly’s, “Strip for You,” filled the dark living room. He lit the large, Jasmine-scented candle on the end table next to the sofa’s right side, before lighting the cherry blossom-scented candle on the end table next to the sofa’s left side.

Standing before her, he twisted his body rhythmically from side to side, and slowly raised his T-shirt over his head to let the flickering light from the candles dance upon his brown, caramel- colored skin. The motion from the ripples of his abs, and the bulge from his chest caused her ocean to stir. She removed her blouse, as he started to unveil his lower half. She had no patience, as she pounced to the floor, and reared up on her knees; it had been too long since she drew on his pipe. He began to sing a tune, which caused her to wonder, who would be putting out whose fire? The thought intensified her blaze. Pushing him, she swept at his feet, he fell backward, she lifted her skirt to her waist, pulled her thong to the side, placed her hands around his thick neck, applied pressure, and straddle him.

Big, wide, and round, her behind started to descend, circling around the tip of his head; she dazzled him.

“Round and around your pole-ly, is my pocket feelin’ cozy? Talk to me, Kevin. How do I feel, baby? Is it wet, baby? Am I wet enough for you? Is it tight enough, baby? Do I fit like a glove? Oh, Kevin. Baby? Oh. Damn, baby, handle it. That’s it. That’s it, baby. Oh, my lover. Handle it, baby.”

Never hearing Kevin’s replies, Dana was in her own groove, for this session he was an end to her means. Her rhythm was steady, her thrust was medium, her stride was fueled by the sound of Ashanti’s “Rock with Me” until the sound of her coochie smacking against Kevin caused an Atlanta burning in her groove zone.

The  last  few  weeks  had  been trying. Her  company was undergoing some tribulations—unforeseen problems with no warnings of any kind—ranging from electrical failures to break downs  of  the machinery to  losing nearly one-fourth of  her trucking fleet. She understood every business suffered through some kind of a bad spell, but this was too much, too fast. Hell, she grew her company from the ground up. Great sacrifices of blood, sweat, sex, tears, family, friends, and her God were offered, holding as collateral upon her success. The blood came from internal bleeding, which came from a physical altercation between her and Clayton, her lover for two years.

Breakfast Pastries & Love, her baby. Her baby that carried the blessings of the entire congregation of Christ Jesus Eastern Field Holy Church, and fifteen thousand of their dollars they invested in her talent. The others—who invested in that belief— prayed nights, days and weekends for her to succeed in this major venture. She knew the odds were against her, and she knew the weight of her family, her friends, cash advances on credit cards, and a bank loan was riding heavily on her shoulders.

Everyone, but Clayton, knew and understood the stress and the burdens Dana carried with her day in and night out. He didn’t like the neglect he was receiving from Dana spending all of her time with her new found baby. Dana was leaving her home, her bed, and her man early every morning, seven days a week to catch two trains for a forty-minute ride to Soho to open her baby and like with a lot of dogs, Clayton found someone else to scratch behind his ear.

She saw the signs. He stopped calling. He wasn’t home when she dragged herself through the door in the late evenings. He stopped going to Christ Jesus Eastern Field Holy Church, and took membership elsewhere. When she questioned him about his recent activities, he told her he was a grown man and he had the right to choose any church he found fit to worship in. He told her he was only at that church to be united with her. When she asked him if he was still united with her, he didn’t answer. He turned his back on her and left the apartment. That was the night before she met William.

Needless to mention, she didn’t sleep that night. She was up crying, leaving messages in the voicemail of his cell phone, trying to find some understanding, trying to make sense of her man’s actions. She was having a hard time keeping up with the orders that morning. Thank God for her assistant. The morning rush was over, and she was preparing for the afternoon and evening rush when William called. She felt something when she heard him speak. She didn’t know what it was, but the feelings— strong, magnetic, intoxicating, and forbidden—were like none other she’d felt before. However, despite the urges and nudging impulses to learn more about William, his arrogant behavior reinforced her thoughts that all men were assholes.

It took William’s knowledge of women, his charm, and a couple of hundred dollars to restore a little faith in Dana’s eyes in regards to his species. William had to purchase two sets of diamond earrings, one each for the waitresses he pissed off, a week after it was two dozen of roses for three straight days, and a surprise visit to the hospital to see her at her lowest point in her life. The flowers made her smile even though she thought she would never smile again. He made her laugh during his visits, even though she didn’t think she would ever laugh again. She didn’t think she would ever be able to push that most tragic night out of her mind.

She came home late in the evening, as she had been doing since opening her baby and Clayton was packing his cloths into a suitcase. He thought he would be out of there before she got home, but he didn’t realize just how much of him had moved in with Dana.

“Clayton, is it something I’ve done wrong? What it is with you? Why won’t you talk to me? What have I done?”

He didn’t say a word. He tried to push past her, but she wasn’t a little woman, she was almost as big as he was. She reached out to him.

He pushed her outreached arms aside. “Don’t touch me, just move and be a woman about it.” He stepped around her.

She looked toward the ceiling. Oh Lord, Jesus this cannot be happening. She turned and gave chase after her man who was half way down the flight of stairs. “Clayton, Clayton! Look, I’ll come home earlier. Please, Clayton, stop! I’ll hire a night manager. I’ll pay someone to close up for me. Clayton, you can’t do this!”

“I can’t do this? You did this. You had to chase this fuckin’ dream of yours and become the big, fat Aunt Jemima of SoHo, instead of being a woman to me. For three months, I watched you push me out of your life. For three months, we didn’t fuck, and or three weeks, you didn’t cook one damn meal for me. When I come home from work, I wanna eat…”

“But you weren’t eating the meals I left for you. You haven’t been home. I can start back cooking for you—”

“Excuses are all the fuck you have for me. For over two years, all I’ve been asking was for us to start a family. That’s all I asked for…a simple life, but your barren ass couldn’t produce the one thing I asked—”

“That’s not my fault! I’ve been to all the doctors and they’ve said I was fine. They’ve said there was no reason why I couldn’t conceive, but you refuse to go get checked out. Besides, how are we to start a family when you haven’t asked me to marry you? You know we need to be married before—”

“Fuck that. I told you marriage ain’t for me. Later, I got someone waiting for me.” He stepped out the front door.Dana gave pursuit.Clayton stepped off the curve, and his Range Rover pulled up in front of him. “Open the back, babe,” he said to a woman behind the stirring wheel. As he closed the back door, he heard a woman’s scream. He looked around the vehicle to witness Dana trying to pull the woman out the truck, via the window. He ran to her aid and punched Dana in the side of her face. Dana turned and focused her rage on him, while the woman climbed out of the truck, snuck up on her from behind and commenced to beating her down with a heavy object. As Dana crawled to the sidewalk, the duo stomped and kicked her until she reached the steps of her building, and onlookers and neighbors came to her aid, chasing Clayton and his partner to his truck and away.

Dana understood sacrifices quite well for she did not only lose her man, but she also lost her unborn child that night, along with any future possibility of having any other, which is why she called Breakfast, Pastries & Love her baby. Therefore, when it came down to strange events of loss, Dana was sure the devil was hard at work, trying to steal everything she had been enjoying for over four years. However, she had lost nearly two hundred thousand dollars in three weeks, and was on the verge of losing some major clients.

Dana was one of those big-boned, thick, man-size sisters. Meaning, she was bootylicious, curvaceous, and voluptuous all rolled into one. She stood about five-ten, solid, thick meat through and through, and large but firm in the waist. Mocha- colored skin, a good length of thick, black hair that stopped just above her shoulders and an ass that operated on ball bearings; her walk made men shout, “Damn!” She was a sister that had to be matched with a man who was taller, larger framed, solid, firm, distinguished, bold, but not overshadowing. She had been described as classy, intelligent, and spiritually grounded.

Although she has been losing money over the last few weeks, her greatest stress came from her lover, Kevin, who has been tripping over her former lover, William.

William knew about Kevin’s insecurities, and he understood the riff in Dana’s relationship, so he chose to keep a distance and not infringe upon Kevin’s time, even though he didn’t’ like it. William didn’t think it was right that he should have to limit his friendship to Dana for the sake of someone else’s ego, or for his inability to deal with his emotions and trust issues. Yet, he wanted Dana to be happy and to live a decent life with a man she could love and call her own.

She sat straight up, taking in all of him. Kevin thought he was in new territory, which caused him to wonder if he grew some. She slid her pelvis slowly back and forth upon him, raised her arms, and placed her hands behind her head. Slowly she increased her rhythm, and his breathing shortened with each change in her frequency. It wasn’t long before she pressed her hands on his chest, and arched her big ass. It was her bone to his bone. Her thrust had the force to snap him like a pencil, and it wasn’t long before she snapped him.

“Ooooo, shit!” he cried, sitting up and grabbing her.

She held his sweaty, shaved head while he gasped for air, trying to absorb the pain from his member. She was pleased that she broke him first, but she was just getting started and needed him to recover like yesterday. She climbed off him. Forcing him to lay down again, with his throbbing cock in hand, she kissed the head. The taste of her sweet nectar excited her and she engulfed the entire head to permit her tongue to twirl around, and around, and around, squeezing his shaft tighter and tighter. She spat at his cock and lubed it with both hands, then swallowed him whole, and again, and again, and Kevin grunted each time she reached bottom. As Keyshia Cole’s “Heaven Sent” filled her head, she drew on him faster and harder until he erupted.



Not This Time

10:48 p.m.

“Bingo!” shouted the senior citizen in the back, on the right side of the large room. Mrs. Garcia wasn’t too thrilled, as this was the fourth game and not one red cent came back from her

investment on game boards, specials, nothing. She turned to her daughter, Joann, and asked her to purchase eight boards, four specials, and a cheeseburger deluxe.   Joann was pissed that her money was dwindling. She left her apartment with three hundred dollars, and a token of some kind left behind by William, although she cannot imagine what it was. She tried to break him off a little something, but he rejected her advances. She never thought the day would come where she couldn’t give away a piece of ass, especially to William. In her mind, William and she were identical in almost every way except gender.  She rationalized William left her money because he felt badly about rejecting her. Or, could the reason be that he knew he was going to tear at the fabric of her soul before he boarded the elevator, leaving her soaked in tears?

Whatever the reason, hours later, those funds were down to one hundred and seventy. She purchased about forty dollars’ worth of groceries, gave her mother forty, paid for a ten ride metro card, and damn near spent thirty dollars at the bingo hall. She was planning to put a hundred to the side for utilities, put a little food up in the house so her son could come home for a spell, and color her hair, but eight boards, four specials, and a damn cheeseburger deluxe was too much. Hell, she gave her mother the forty dollars to go play bingo when she’d asked for a “few bucks.” Why the hell did she let this woman talk her into coming along, and then foot the damn bill, too? All she wanted to do was color her hair, watch some television, or read a book, and relax. However, her mother insisted that she come along. Mrs. Garcia hardly ever left her oldest daughter, Joann, alone in her apartment. It was as if she didn’t trust her daughter, and Joann had pondered that thought a few times.

“Ma, I’ll buy you a cheeseburger, but I’m not buyin’ no more games. We got enough here. Let’s just play what we got,” Joann said, with her top lip turned up.

Mrs. Garcia didn’t appreciate Joann’s tone of voice, or her disobedience. If she weren’t in public, she would definitely have let one loose across her face. Dare she speak back to her like that? She could use that tone with her hooker friends, but not with her.

Joann was tired. Her body was still hurting . She’d rolled her eyes back into her head, tilted her head backward, and massaged the back of her neck with a silent wish that she was pressed up against William’s warm body like last night, wrapped in his arms.

Mrs. Garcia cut her eyes toward Joann. Joann caught sight, but could care less how her mother felt. Usually, she would give into her, but not tonight. She had too many things on her mind to deal with her mother’s bullshit, too.

“I’ll go get the cheeseburger. Play my boards for me,” Joann said, as she stood.

The five-eight, butterscotch-flavored Joann wondered if there was some truth to Jay Dee’s claim. “You see that motherfucker one fuckin’ time and now you on a high horse.” She didn’t know if William’s visit brought her back to reality, but what she did know was that he brought her life to some dangerous crossroads. She had the weight of the world upon her chest, because everything she loved hung in the balance with the decisions she would be faced with sooner or later. William had stopped by to repair her computer, and left her in the midst of an emotional whirlwind. It wasn’t just for the ass beating she received from her now ex- boyfriend, Jay Dee, but it was first by William who told her she only has three years to live. William emotionally raped her by telling her about her entire past she’d tried so hard to forget; things she never told a soul, about her God, and about their sins, then he left her a wreck. Once again, he abandoned her. Her man, Jay Dee, came home to find her in tears, naked underneath her robe, and her ex-lover, William, had just left.

Joann waited her turn to reach the counter where she placed an order for two cheeseburgers with lettuce, tomatoes, onions, ketchup, and fries.

“You want something to drink with that order?” asked the counter person.

“Yeah, let me get two large lemonades.”

She wrapped her arms around the lower half of her ribcage and held herself in an attempt to fight against the pain. Damn! She cursed the thought of not making love to him when they lay on her sofa, but his heat felt so good, his body offered protection, and the fact that he returned to aid her spoke volumes. Besides all this, she felt his warmth healing her body and spirit. However, being true to her nature, she tried to advance upon him in the shower that following morning. He rejected her advances, and left her, once again, with mixed feelings and confusion. He always left her with more questions than answers, but she figured he must’ve been in love with his wife that month or something. They always fell back in love with their wives, occasionally.

Joann shared a life with William years back. To the world, unknowingly to them, her neighbors and local merchants had mistaken William and her for a married couple with a son. For over four years, she considered herself the second wife and was happy with that, but she stood ready to assume the role of first wife if he ever cleared his head and opened his eyes to see where a greater true love awaited him.

For a long time, everything was going so well before she noticed his visits getting shorter and shorter, and every day became every other day, then the day after that, until he just stopped coming all together. They were never really the same couple after that night up in the Bronx, when a drug buy went bad. She had to pick up two keys of snow, and William felt the need to tag along, and with good reasons. Joann was set up from the moment she’d placed the order. The plan was if she came with four or more escorts, it would be business as usual, but any number less and the double cross was on. Joann and William went in a dark lot, on a secluded block, with three men. Ten minutes later, Joann and William drove out with the coke and money, leaving three dead bodies behind.

Could that have been his reason for abandoning me, and our child? she thought, reminiscing on that frightful night. No. Not, William. It probably was that fat, black bitch-ass wife of his. Hell no, I can’t believe I slept on that bitch. She had something to do with that shit. I feel it all the way to my bones. He probably felt guilty and all, and probably confessed everything that night to his ugly wife, that stink, cop bitch. She took him away from his little, outside family. I should have killed the bitch that first day we tangled on the phone. Standing at the counter, waiting on herorder, she turned up her lips and sunk into deep thought. I paged my man, there was no answer, so I figured he would call back in a few after he checked his beeper, like he always did, and to my surprise this bitch returned my call. I tried to play it off and act like I dialed the wrong number and all. I didn’t want to get my man into any trouble, you know. Keep his secret life on lock, so we have peace and harmony, but she wasn’t having it. She read right through that shit. So my nature got the best of me and I had to fuck with her for the hell of it. But damn did she turn it around and get me pissed. Then the bitch had the nerve to hang up on me. I was like, “Yo, no the hell she didn’t. Fuck!” It was on. I called that black heifer back and, like I said, it was on.

“I think you have the wrong number, or something, your man ain’t here. But I do suggest you get some skills if you want to keep him home.”

“Bitch, I will fuck you up!” Yvonne, William’s wife, screamed. “No, bitch, you better fuck your man up. A’ight? ‘Cause this way he won’t be sniffing around other women crotches.” “Yeah, talk that shit over the phone…” Yvonne said. “What! You wanna step to this, bitch?”

“Yeah, where you at? Ain’t no fear in my heart, bitch. I got some skills for that ass, a’ight.” “You wanna know where I’m at? You better ask somebody.”

“Yeah, well, just for you to know, when you go down on him tonight, keep this in mind: I just got off of it, you nasty, tricky ass, ho!”

A piercing thud was the sound of the phone in Joann’s ear before the silence.

“Oh no! Oh fuck no. She didn’t call me a ho. I’ll kill her. I’d pull the hairs off her pussy, and shove my baby’s bottle up her ass…” Then it hit her. “Oh, I got some payback for you, bitch. Oh, you just got off it, huh? I’m gonna see you never get on it again.” She’d dialed star-six-nine. The phone rang twice. “Come on pick up, bitch. Come get some of this—”

“What you want, ho,” Yvonne answered.

“The name is Holly, so get used to it, ‘cause it’s going to be a household name ‘round there…”

“No, your name is low life, bitch. What you call for, this shit is tired?”

“Fuck you, I don’t need this, where is my baby’s daddy, is he home?”

“You fuckin’ ho bitch, don’t fuck with me…”

“I ain’t fuck you, and don’t see how he can, but my son needs some Pampers, and milk…”

“You want Pampers and milk? Meet me at the Lindenwood Diner on Linden Boulevard, bitch, and bring that bastard baby with you,” Yvonne demanded.

“You see, you gotta be a rude bitch, so now you get nothing but baby’s mama drama from here on—”

“Be there in an hour.”

“Oh, I’ll be there, but I’m not in any condition to kick yo’ ass,

‘cause I gotta ‘nother bun in da oven…” “Be there.”


Yeah I was there, waitin’ for her when she showed up. I didn’t know it was her when she first road up. But when I saw this short, mean lookin’, football player, wearing this extra shade of black on her, I knew it had to be her. Lookin like she sucked on a mothball or somethin’ sour. I was like, what the hell does he see in her? That short, black, reject heifer ain’t have shit on me. Please. She passed by my car, and I was so fuckin’ tempted to run her ass over. I hit the gas, the car leaped out at her, but I hit the brakes, ‘cause I knew if I had hit that bitch, William would  have gotten pissed, and he would be stuck at house watchin’ those kids all by himself. Meaning, I wasn’t going to get any time.

I looked at her and smiled. “Oh, I’m sorry, I ain’t see you there.” I was smilin’ cause I was like yeah, bitch, you should thank me ‘cause I just let yo ass live.

Joann’s cell phone started to ring, which brought her back to the present. She looked at the caller ID, but didn’t recognize the number.


“I just want you to know I’m still alive, bitch.” The man’s voice was queasy. He was having problems breathing.

“Who’s this? This you, Jay Dee?”

“Yeah it’s me, bitch. And I just want you to know your friends got me good, but I’m still here and your ass is dead.” He strained to speak.

“Whatcha talkin’ about? Whatcha sayin’?”

“You know what I’m talkin’ about. I’m tellin’ you now, watch your back Jo-Jo, ‘cause I’m taken you out…”

“Yo, son, don’t call me with this mess. You know what, Jay Dee? Bring it. I told you before if you put your hands on me again, it’s a bloodshed feud for life,” Joann declared.

“Yeah, well it’s on, you stank ho.”

“Who you callin’ a ‘ho’? You short, three-inch motherfucker, wishin’ you had three more so you can hang just a little—”

“Fuck you, Jo-Jo. Watch your back, yo. Watch your fuckin’ back, bitch.”

“Play pussy and you’ll get fucked, Jay Dee. I’m not like your wife.  You being a man don’t scare me. I’m not weak. I’m not weak at all. Come at me. Mark my words. I will end you. I don’t fear you, little man—”

He disconnected the call.

Punk bitch. You ain’t puttin’ no fear in my heart. I ain’t ever lettin’ any man put his hands on me, and let that shit go. I told you that, I told you Jay Dee. Hell no. It ain’t happenin’. No way, no how, no more. So it’s on, huh? A’ight, let me think how I’m gon’ do this. I’m gon’ take care of his ass first, then that black, Color Purple, Whoopi Goldberg-lookin’ bitch.

“That’s fifteen dollars, even,” said the woman with Joann’s order.

Fifteen  dollars? Damn,  Ma.  That’s  it  for  your  ass,  too. Damn, this was a mistake, comin’ over here. I got this dickless motherfucker wantin’ to kill me, my momma bleeding me like I was a chicken head, and I’m in pain. Fifteen damn dollars.

“Bingo!” Mrs. Garcia shouted.

“We hit, Ma? We hit?” Joann questioned, with a broad smile,

feeling a spark of happiness and long-awaited joy in her life.

“We? What do you mean ‘we’?” Mrs. Garcia lips turned up ugly.

Joann looked at her mother’s face. She couldn’t believe this woman just turned on her t. Just like that, her happiness soured and it was replaced with the feeling of exasperation. She looked closely at the winning board and sided with her mother, because it was her special that won the seven-hundred-dollar prize, and it was her board, which she left for her to play when she left the table.

“You’re right, Ma. It was my game board that won, since I paid for it. Here take your burger while I go claim my prize money.”

Joann picked up her winning board and made her way to the collection booth, while receiving claps, whistles, and cheers along her journey. She felt good about herself once again, and declared under her breath, “I ain’t lettin’ no one get over, not this time and no more from now on. Fuck all y’all.”

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