Four
There’s a reason why I still live in Inglewood and not with my Daddy.
My Granny’s home is here. When she died a few years ago, she left it to my Daddy, who in turn, gave it to me to live in once I turned 18. “You can sell it if you want and make a profit,” he advised, “or you can stay here and look after it until you get tired of it.”
My Granny’s home is actually a duplex. My auntie lives in one home, while I live in the other. She’s still salty that Granny left the home to my Daddy in her will, but I know she ain’t that salty, because the only thing she pays for are bills and not rent so she needs to keep quiet.
My home is two bedrooms and two bathrooms with a small living room and kitchen. The yards are of a decent size for how small the home is, but honestly, it’s enough space for a small cookout or smoking a blunt and listening to The Jacksons sing about good times.
For a family, this would be too small but for me, it’s just right. I didn’t feel comfortable living by myself so my best friend, Tasha, is staying with me. She’s also living rent-free because we’re girls like that.
But we do split the bills, though her cheap-ass has tried getting out of paying some. I told that bitch if she has enough money for yaki, she has enough money to pay for all the damn water and electric she’s using up.
“Hey girl,” Tasha blows out a plume of smoke from her pipe. It’s not even two in the afternoon and she’s already half-baked. She’s not like Snoop Dogg who stays high but also stays employed. I often wonder how productive Tasha would be if she stopped smoking for a month.
“Hey,” I reply to her as I drop off my messenger bag and slip out of my Gucci high heels. They’re cute AF but they also hurt like a motherfucker. No amount of Dr. Scholl’s can save my feet. “Whatchu up to?”
Tasha shakes her long braids and takes another hit from the pipe. She’s dark-skinned, thick, and has a number of piercings and tattoos. She also discovered her newfound wokeness.
I applaud her for that but I really wish she would stop sending them fake-ass IG memes and shit. I don’t think she even realizes half the shit she sends me are probably some shit a bored nigga thought of when he was higher than a damn kite himself. “Just woke up not that long ago. About to start driving soon.”
Tasha’s a full-time Lyft driver, though my daddy and I told her that wasn’t a gig to have unless she had her own car and was doing it part-time to make some ends. But no matter how much advice you give someone to better themselves, some niggas are gonna nigga.
“Oh, cool,” I reply. I sit across from her on the sofa. She offers me a hit but I decline. I have a feeling Jalen might be coming over soon and I don’t need to be high when that nigga shows up.
He’s one of those fools that a girl needs to be fully aware of what’s going on at all times or he’ll try some shit like bending you over and playing with your ass, telling you he’ll just put the tip in.
“How did it go today?” She asks and I shrug.
“As well as it could go.” I quickly pull the hot-ass wig off my head and toss it aside, “I don’t know if I’ll get the internship but it’s worth a shot. I just need something on my resume so I when I start applying to the four-year universities, I’ll look better.”
“I hope you get it, Kiesh,” her voice is smoky like just the air. I got used to smelling weed, though it’s not my preference. Yet, somehow, I learned how to roll a blunt with the precision of a world-class surgeon. I guess being a drug lord’s daughter taught me something.
“I hope so, too.” I reply, unsure if it’s something I really want to have. It felt like one of those places that I would’ve been out of place and way over my head in, but I always get the feeling that might happen with me no matter where I go in life.
It’s like I don’t want to stay in the hood but I’m not sure if my black ass is going to Spago anytime soon. I really just want some Popeye’s and be happy while I’m making bank. Is that too much to ask?
“Junie’s coming over in a bit. He’s gonna stay the night.” She says.
“That’s fine.” I stare out into space. “Jalen might come over but it’s still iffy.”
Tasha shoots me a look and I know she’s about to say some shit I don’t like. Since she’s feeling a certain type of way, I’ll let sis say her peace. “You’re still with him?”
I know this bitch didn’t just fix her mouth to say something about my relationship. Junie stands for Junebug, which is short for, oh, I don’t really fucking care. Ain’t like the nigga gon’ do anything with his life anyway. Each time he comes over, I swear that nigga smells like stale motel carpet, broken dreams, and wet dog with a side of Kimchi.
He’s a dime a dozen SoundCloud rapper/producer/wanna be art heaux, and somewhere between graduating from high school and having big dreams to follow in the footsteps of Tyler, the Creator, and Chance the Rapper, Tasha’s nigga successfully morphed himself into Junie the No-Good Nigga Who Uses Up My WiFi.
I don’t know why I’m so defensive about Jalen. It’s been well-established the only thing that nigga is good for is orgasms, but I feel I’m the only one who can talk shit about my nigga if that makes sense.
“I wouldn’t go as far as saying I’m with him, but yes, he’s coming over tonight.” I reply.
Tasha sighs and takes another hit from her pipe. “I don’t know what you see in him.”
I see a night full of screaming and curled toes. “We’re not getting married and I ain’t gon’ be his baby mama so I don’t see the problem.”
“I’m just saying you’re young, barely 21 and you need to explore more,” Tasha nods as if she’s proud of the advice she damn well knows she won’t follow her damn self. Every time her and Junie broke up, it’s because he initiated it. Yet, she keeps giving him chances like the blessed Pick Me chick she is. “That’s all.”
“Point taken.” I get a notification on my phone and see it’s the Big Dick Bastard himself.
How did it go today?
I guess it went well, I text back.
You home?
Just arrived.
Can I swing over for a bit?
How long is a bit?
A few hours, maybe.
I don’t know what that means so you need to speak English.
Can I come over and chill for a bit?
Just chill?
You can chill on this dick.
Stop it with the sexy talk.
I miss you, baby girl.
You’re getting warm.
I miss holding you.
Warmer.
I can’t wait for you to ride my tongue.
It’s a bit warm in here.
I want to suck on those titties as you ride my dick all night.
It’s fucking Inferno in here.
So, that’s a yes?
Sure, come over.
I toss my phone aside and yawn as I contemplate the next move in my life. If I don’t get this internship, I need to have a Plan B. Everyone knows I’m not going to stay in Inglewood and I’m not entirely sure I’ll even stay in Los Angeles.
All I know is I want more out of life and I’m determined to get it.
Five
“Did you miss me?”
I pinch two of my fingers together and he raises an eyebrow. I sigh and spread my hands apart to about the length of that glorious dick of his. He approvingly smiles.
Jalen was supposed to show up around six. This nigga showed up a quarter to ten.
I don’t even ask why it took him so long because I already know what the answer was – he had to make sure his corner was on lock and everyone who owed him money, actually paid. If they didn’t pay, he didn’t take too kindly on doing layaways.
While my Daddy refused to sell to his own people, Jalen doesn’t have that issue. In his words, crack doesn’t care if the user is black, white, green, or purple. If someone wants a rock, he’ll be that supply.
He’s not the sole reason why there’s so much drug usage in Inglewood but I’m pretty sure he has played a significant role. He’s number two in command of the Inglewood Kings, a notorious gang that has shown how ruthless they can be. They successfully control an apartment building where they do most of their operation.
They’re also known for their generosity. Every Thanksgiving, they give away turkeys to those in need. Every Christmas, the poor families get bags full of toys, new clothing and shoes, and even, feminine products for the women (I’m proud to say that was my suggestion).
Every girl has a guy she looks back with either great fondness or regret she wasted her time with that nigga. I’m not sure what area Jalen will be when all is said and done. But I’m not even thinking about that now.
A sista needs her back blown the fuck out and guess who has the magic stick to do it?
“Are you going to let me in?” His deep voice vibrates against the door and I feel it vibrate down to my yoni. Oh, I’m going to let the nigga in, all right. I’ll let him in all damn night.
I step aside and Jalen walks in. He briefly looks around and makes his way to the bedroom to drop off his duffle bag. I lock up the front door and cross my arms, letting out a sigh.
No-good niggas always have the best dick. They fail at everything else in life so they might as well be good at fucking. They know it, too, that’s why they get away with the shit they do.
I already know Jalen and I aren’t gon’ last. If I’m trying to get the fuck up out of Inglewood and work with the white people in downtown L.A., having a drug lord as a boyfriend ain’t gon’ pass. Can you imagine that nigga showing up and taking me out to lunch? Yeah, neither can I.
But still…he’s gonna have to be the Russell to my Robin a la Waiting to Exhale, without the married headass part. The only wife Jalen has is his stacks of Benjamin Franklin and he’s not about to divorce them.
“Come here,” he beckons.
I turn around and see that he’s stripped down to his white tee and grey sweatpants. I just about lost my will to remain pure. Everything about this nigga is telling me no, but my punani is a loud-ass bitch when she wants to be. And she wants that dick.
I walk over to him wearing nothing but too-small boy shorts and a white tee I stole from him. He loves the way it looks on me because he can see the outline of my big-ass titties through the shirt. My big ass swallowed up the boy shorts and well, we know I won’t be wearing these for very long.
“Girl, you’re looking like a juicy fucking snack,” his voice comes out like a moan and yep, I’m already wet. He licks his lips and we both know I can’t wait to feel that tongue everywhere on my body. “You never did say if you miss me?”
“I miss you, Zaddy,” I call him by the nickname that I know will get him going.
He picks me up and carries me back to the bedroom where he already lit a couple of candles. “Tell me about the interview,” he lays me down on the bed.
I sigh again as I watch him finally remove his clothing and I see his dick. It’s not hard but give it a few seconds, and it will be. “It went okay. I’m not sure if I’ll get it but I’m also not sure if I want it.”
He pours some jojoba oil in his hand and wipes his hands together. He then massages my legs. It feels heavenly. “Why say that? What’s wrong with the place?”
“Too rich,” I say, wondering why are we talking about my interview when his hands are all over my body like an octopus, “it feels like one of those places where they have an invisible sign – No Negroes Allowed.”
Jalen chuckles. “Baby girl, every place is gonna be like that. Not that long ago, white people didn’t even want us to have the same drinking fountains as them. You need to prove to them why you belong there. If you don’t get it, it wasn’t meant for you and God got something better for you.”
Now I figured out why I keep Jalen around. Despite his problematic headass, he knows when to give support without me asking for it. It doesn’t take away from him being a fuckboy but at least I know he has a heart somewhere in there.
He removes my top and lies on top of me. He caresses my face and stares into my eyes. “You’re going to get that internship, you’re going to go to school, and you’re going to Congress one day. I know you are.” He kisses my forehead. “But you can’t worry about fitting in. People need to assimilate to you, not the other way around.”
His words bring a much-needed smile to my face. It’s what I was desperate to hear. “Thank you,” I softly reply.
“You’re welcome,” he kisses me, playing with my tongue. He pulls his lips away and trails them along my jaw line, up to my earlobe where he playfully bites it, and back down to my lips.
His tongue willingly explores my mouth and I softly moan against his lips. He finally trails his tongue down to my breasts, along my navel, and finally to my yoni. He spreads my legs apart, kissing my inner thighs, before he finally dives in.
My back arches off the bed as I reach up and grab my breasts. His tongue is long and pointy, flat and wide, and one hundred percent magical all of the time.
He flicks my pearl like it’s a toy and my body bounces along to the movement. His tongue circles around my clit while his mouth sucks on it.
Moans and groans of all registers come pouring out of my mouth as my toes curl up and I rest one leg on Jalen’s shoulder. Each time I wonder why I put up with his bullshit, his mighty tongue politely reminds me why. God be the glory.
My body can no longer stave off the impending orgasm and I cry out in ecstasy as he abruptly stops. He chuckles at me and he knows he got my black ass. He reaches into his pants pocket, pulls out a Magnum, and doesn’t hesitate to put it on.
He climbs back onto the bed, and holds one of my legs. The tip of him teased my entrance before he pushed in. I gasped and felt my eyes water. He completely filled me and I knew not all of him was inside.
He pushed in deeper, and moans were pulled from my mouth. His strokes were slow and methodical, until he built a steady tempo. I clenched tighter around him, silently begging him not to stop, while encouraging him to not stop fucking me.
“Girl, you know you ain’t gon’ anywhere,” he moaned as his thrusts became more powerful, “you know this is my pussy.”
“Oh fuck yes!” I didn’t get a damn if Tasha and Soundcloud could hear me. This is my house and my nigga is fucking me exactly how I want it.
Jalen flipped over so I was on top. I held his chest down, digging my nails into it as I bounced on that delicious dick of his. I was never sure about being on top before but Jalen encouraged me to keep trying. Now I love to ride him more than anything.
I soon felt my legs begin to shake as the orgasm began to build. I clench tighter around him and increased my tempo, as Jalen held onto my ass. When the climax happened, my body stilled as it coursed through me. Jalen thrust a few more times before he came as well.
Hot flashes of light and fireworks surrounded me as I called out Jalen’s name, along with a few obscenities. I needed that dick. I know Jalen is a fuckboy and we won’t last very long, but damnit, I need to keep him around just to dick me down for good measure.
I collapsed on top of him and giggle. Jalen kisses my sweaty forehead and rubs my back as he stares up at the ceiling. Maybe it’s the dickdown talking, but maybe I should stay in Inglewood.
My best friend is here, I live in my Granny’s house that I own, and I have Jalen to dick me down when I need it. Maybe this is where I should be.
The next morning, I learned I got the internship. I start the following Monday.