So Gone

Still Running Shit


Blunt

"Get back in the car, Mo, or else I'ma splatter this nigga's brains all over your outfit," I said with my 9mm German Luger pressed to the back of her date's head. To him, I said menacingly, "One stupid move and it's gon' be lights out for you, homie. Test my gangsta and you'll never get to tell about it." I cracked him across the head with the steel.

He yelped like a bitch ass nigga.

"Blunt, please don't hurt him. He has nothing to do with what's going on between us. He's just an old friend. Let him leave, and we'll talk," pleaded Mo'. She was shaking like a leaf.

I grinned mockingkly. "Oh, now you wanna talk? You ain't have no talk for me an hour ago. What, you tryin' to save this p-ssy nigga? He must be more than a friend."

"Nawl, man ---" the nigga moaned. He reached up to rub his head.

"Did I ask you anything? And put your mothaf*ckin hands down before I get trigger happy on that ass." I glanced around the lot to see if anyone was coming. The cover of the night protected me from any Good Samaritan types.

"Mo', pop your trunk," I barked.

"For what?"

I slapped her date across the back of the head with my banger a second time. Blood ran down the back of his neck. "Pop the mothaf*ckin trunk!" I repeated more forcefully.

I heard the trunk unlatch. I made Mo' up her car keys so that she couldn't pull off. "You know what the move is," I gritted to ol' boy, then marched him to the rear of the car and forced him to climb into the trunk.

"Man, I'm bleeding," he said, as if I gave a f*ck.

"Next time, do your homework," I spat before slamming the trunk lid.

I hurried around to the passenger side and hopped in the car. I handed Mo' her keys back and instructed her to pull off. "This is crazy, Blunt,” she cried.

"And it's gonna get even crazier if you don't tell me what I wanna hear. Now put this bitch in gear and drive down to The Bluff."

“No, Blunt, this is crazy. I am not doing that. Let him go, and we’ll talk. I promise.”

I thought about it for a minute, and then decided not to force her hand. “Aight, I’ma let the p-ssy nigga out the trunk. But you better make him understand that if he comes back around, I’ma make him sleep wit’ Jesus. You understand?”

“Yes.” Her reply came out through clenched teeth.

“Mo’ don’t try me. Fa real, a nigga is on edge. I’ll kill all three of us,” I threatened. I pointed the gun at her, and then put it to my own head.

Mo’ covered her eyes and cried, “No, Blunt!”

“Well, you better come with me and tell that nigga what time it is.”

When I got out of the car, Mo’ followed me back to the trunk.

“I ought to murk this clown,” I gritted as I snatched the keys from her.

“No, Blunt, that is ridiculous. He’s no one but an old friend from high school,” she swore.

“I don’t give a f*ck. I want the nigga to kno’ that he can’t get at mine.” I opened the trunk and pointed my banger down at the frightened square.

“Mo, tell this weak ass nigga what time it is,” I said as he climbed out of the trunk cautiously.

She huffed, and then told dude, “This is my boyfriend. I was mad at him when I called you and I apologize for putting you in this situation. Under no circumstances will I call you again.”

“Okay,” he replied. Then he turned to go back to his car.

I put my banger to the back of his head. Very menacingly I whispered, “Even if she calls you again you bet not answer. You hear me, p-ssy?”

He turned to face me and my heat met the tip of his nose. "Do you hear me!" I barked.

“Yeah, bruh, I hear you,” he replied.

I raised my foot and kicked him dead in the ass.

“Argh, shit,” he yelped. He grabbed his left ass cheek, fell inside the Lexus, and hauled ass.

“Why did you make me do that,” asked Mo’ through tears when I slid back in her passenger seat.

“You had no business callin’ that p-ssy in the first place. Switch seats wit’ me. I’ma drive us to a place where we can talk.”

“Blunt, you’re scaring me,” Mo’ remarked, trembling.

“Girl, hush. You know I would never hurt you. I just want to talk things out. I’ll come back and get my car.”

“Gosh!” She sighed and reluctantly switched seats with me.





My Way Or The Highway


Molaysia

Blunt had to be plum dumb and crazy to think that we could talk things out after the stunt he had just pulled. I was steaming hot, but I wasn’t afraid anymore. I only wanted to get the talk over with. After that, we could go our separate ways. I didn’t utter one word as he drove on Interstate 285.

Blunt poured his heart out the entire time until he pulled into the parking lot of The Ritz-Carlton off Peachtree Street downtown. He removed the keys from the ignition, opened the car door, and treaded to the front entrance of the hotel. I shook my head in dismay because I really didn’t want to go up in a room with him.

A few minutes later, he came to the car and told me to get out. He grabbed a hold of my hand once I stepped out of the car. An older Caucasian in his mid fifties came out and valet parked my Benz.

We strutted inside the building of the elegant hotel and took the elevator up to the second floor. Once inside the Presidential Suite, I strolled over to the bed. I put one foot under me and let the other foot dangle from the bed.

My eyes began to inspect the entire room and its beauty. The living room area was nice with a high definition flat panel television that I estimated to be at least 70 inches. There was a formal dining area with seating for six. French doors opened to the executive study and the bedroom suite had a luxury walk in shower.

Blunt came over and pulled me up, and I silently followed him into the bathroom. I turned the temperature knob on the Jacuzzi and ran him some bath water. He undressed in front of me, stepped over into the Jacuzzi, and submerged his body under water. I picked up a small towel and lathered it with soap. I dropped to my knees and gently bathe him.

“Damn, baby, I missed you. Happy Birthday.” He let out a long sigh and relaxed.

“Thanks and I missed you too. You didn’t have to make me ashamed by going to the restaurant confronting my classmate. All of that was unnecessary,” I griped while washing his back and shoulders.

“I ain’t tryna hear nothin’ ‘bout that nigga,” he said with an attitude and sank his body deeper under the tiny bubbles.

“Well, I can certainly change subjects.” I soaped up the towel and continued to rub his back. “It seems to me that you want your cake and ice cream too. You have some explaining to do. I want to know about Luscious and Mika. And you need to tell me about the two babies that you have had since we’ve been together. When were you going to tell me about this whole other life you’ve been living?” I smacked him across the face with the towel.

“Ow, Mo! That shit hurt.”

“The shit that you do hurts too,” I said, choking up.

“I know it does, baby girl, and I'm sorry. Fa real, none of it was supposed to happen that way. I know I f*cked up, but I was gon’ tell you ‘bout my kids when the time was right.”

I stood to my feet and pressed my finger against the side of his face. “Oh, really? When was the time going to be right for you to tell me that you’ve been sticking your dick in other bitches?”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“That’s all you have to say? Sorry didn’t do it, you did. Blunt, you don’t want a good woman, you want a street skeezer. Now, either you’re going to call both of those hoes and tell them that it’s over between y’all, or it’s going to be over between us for good,” I demanded.

“Baby, it ain't even that serious. I’m done dealing wit’ both of ‘em,” he claimed.

“Yeah, right." Sarcasm coated my reply.

“Fa real, Mo." He sat up and reached for my hand, but I snatched it away and stood up to my feet.

I frowned down and gave him a look like, Boy please! If I believed Blunt, I believed that cows could fly.

“Call both of them and put the phone on speaker so I can hear you tell them it's over, or you can forget about us ever getting back together.”

“Shawdy, you trippin'. That's some high school shit. And while you're checkin' my dirty clothes, I need to be checkin' yours. You got all sexy to go and meet up wit’ another nigga. How I kno’ that y’all ain’t f*ckin’?”

I knew that he was only trying to flip the script. I wasn’t as stupid as he thought I was. I bent over, gripped his balls, and squeezed.

“F*ck! Okay, I’ll call ‘em up,” he bellowed and tried to pry my hands from his testicles.

“You better before I snatch ‘em off!” I was done putting up with his bullcrap and lies. Leesha was right, with niggas like mine you had to get ‘ignit’.





Boss Game


Blunt

With Mo’s hand wrapped around my family jewels squeezing like my shit was a lemon and she was intent on making lemonade, I would have agreed to anything.

“I’ma call ‘em. Just let my shit go, and I got you,” I promised, though I didn’t mean a word of it. That would be dumb as hell for me to call Mika and Luscious and put them on loud speaker for Mo’ to hear me cut them off. Man, she had me confused wit’ that whack ass nigga she was tryna hook up wit’ for dinner before I showed up and shut that shit down.

“I’m not playing, Blunt, you better call ‘em,” repeated Mo’ releasing the balls.

As soon as she let go, I snatched her ass by the front of her dress and pulled her into the tub of water.

“Ah, you’re getting me wet,” she cried with a soaked dress. Her hair was drippin’ wet wit’ bath water.

“I should drown yo’ ass,” I threatened. “You betta be glad I love you the way that I do.” I pulled her in my arms and tried to put my lips on her. She swung at me and turned her face away from mine.

“I don’t want your lips on me ‘cause ain’t no telling where they’ve been,” she accused, pummeling my chest wit’ both fist. “You’re either going to call those bitches or I’m done with your black ass. I’m fed up with your shit.”

I pinned her arms to her sides and pressed my naked chest against hers. Her nipple prints were pokin’ through her clothing. I stood up, lifted her up wit’ me, and roughly pressed her back against the wall. I sucked on her neck while I lifted her dress and slid a hand up her thigh. “Stop, Blunt!” she protested.

I ignored her and traced the folds of her wet slit. “I asked you…to…stop.” Her voice was becoming faint, so I knew that she was becoming weak to my touch. I ripped her dress open down the center and sucked her ta ta’s wit’ a hunger that was almost animalistic in its intensity.

“Please, Blunt, don't.”

I ignored her once again. I took her hand and wrapped it around my engorged muscle. When Mo’ felt my length and width, and its granite-like hardness, a moan escaped from her throat. I lifted one of her legs up, wrapped it around my waist, and slid my hardness deep inside her p-ssy. I grinded inside of her slow and hard until she grinded back in rhythm.

“Damn, Bae, yo’ p-ssy is my weakness,” I whispered in her ear as I hit the bottom.

“Ooh, Blunt, you’re turning me on talking like that,” she muttered and bit down on her bottom lip. Her p-ssy gripped my manhood like a glove.

“I’m fa real. I’ll kill you if you give this shit away. You hear me?” I penetrated in and out in long strokes and heard the lovely sound of her sopping wetness with each thrust.

“I hear your crazy ass.” She laughed and moaned simultaneously.

“Yeah, when it comes to you I’m crazy. Crazy like that glue.” I looked deep into her eyes and said, “You almost got that mothaf*cka murked tonight. If you ever creep out on me, I’ma body a whole bunch of shit. This p-ssy is mine, these pretty ass titties mine, and this ass is mine. Even yo’ ugly ass toes belong to me,” I kidded.

“Boy, you know my toes aren’t ugly.” She giggled. Hearing her laugh let me kno’ that she was still putty in my hands.

“Nah, they not ugly, Boo. Everything ‘bout my baby is beautiful. Now grind on this dick and promise me that you’ll never give this p-ssy away.”

Mo’ followed my command and ten minutes later her eyes rolled to the back of her head as an orgasm the size of Mount Everest ‘caused her to fall out in my arms. When she got herself together, she was in bed.

I called downstairs and had a bowl of Mo's favorite, mint ice cream, delivered to our suite.

When it arrived, she laid her head on my chest as I spoon-fed her. “Ummm. You can be so sweet, but I’m still mad at you,” she reminded me.

I leaned over and covered her mouth wit’ a kiss.

“Shhh. Let’s not even discuss that. Just trust me to handle it once and for all. I don’t ever want to lose you so I’m about to get right,” I promised for the umpteenth time since we’d been together.

“This is your final chance, Blunt, and I mean it,” she declared.

And reindeers really can fly, I said to myself. I had heard all of those threats before. I didn’t have no worries. Baby Girl couldn’t let go.





My Foolish Heart


Molaysia

I was determined to change Blunt. I kept hoping that one day he would become the man I wanted him to be. All of the old and bad choices that he had made were irrelevant. I tried not to let his bad habits faze me, but it was hard. I don’t think Blunt ever believed that I would walk away from him. To be honest, sometimes neither did I.

I could have easily found another man, but I couldn’t help who I had fallen in love with. In a twisted way, Blunt’s craziness that night turned me on. I convinced myself that he had to love me if he was willing to kill in order to keep me.

“That’s stupid,” I admonished myself, but the thought would not dissipate. The way he held me was food for my soul.

In a voice heavy with sincerity, he said, “Baby, I know that I have f*cked up a lot. I’ve lied, cheated, and betrayed your trust over and over again. Honestly, I don’t kno’ why you keep giving me chances . . . you must really love me.”

“I do, Blunt,” I pledged.

“Yeah, baby girl, you’ve proven that,” he acknowledged.

“Well, if you know how much I love you, why do you continue to search for someone else?”

He seemed to contemplate the question before answering. Then he said, “Just giving it to you gully, Mo’. I think I’ve done that because deep down I don’t feel like I deserve you. I keep thinkin’ that you’re gonna up and leave a nigga one day, and I don’t want to get caught without someone to fall back on.”

“Blunt, that’s silly. You have to stop thinking like that, or you’re going to push me away. Don’t you ever think that I get tired of crying and being made a fool of?”

I was cuddled in his arms on the verge of crying again. He lifted my chin up and gently placed soft kisses all over my face. His touch was an aphrodisiac that reached down to the core of my soul. Loving him felt so good . . . and so bad.

Blunt read my heart like an open book. “Baby, do you think that I meant to hurt you?” he asked as he looked down into my face and stared into my eyes.

I let out a long sigh. “No, I don’t think that you intentionally tried to hurt me, but you should know that lies hurt more than the truth.”

“I feel you. No more games, Mo. I’m through wit’ the bullshit. I’m gon’ start back keepin’ a smile on your face.” He kissed the center of my forehead.

“All I ask is that you be honest with me. I can forgive the past, but you have to do better in the future,” I said.

“I will, baby girl. That's on er'thing. And now that everything is out in the open, I want you to be a part of all of my kids’ lives.”

I considered what he was asking of me. It was probably the grownup thing to do, but at the time, I was still in my feelings and could not be around the children without getting upset with Blunt all over again. I explained that to him as gently as I knew how.

“Okay, baby,” he replied.

“Just give it time,” I suggested.

Neither of us spoke another word. We just held each other and became lost in our own thoughts.



Minutes later, Blunt was knocked out, sleeping like a newborn baby with a pacifier. I eased out of bed and grabbed my cell phone off the nightstand. I had a call to make, and it could not wait any longer.

I tiptoed to the bathroom and closed the door. Then, I called Fabian to apologize for Blunt's actions. I rocked my leg nervously as the phone rang. Finally, he answered. As expected, his tone was not friendly.

"Fabian, I owe you an apology. Had I --- "

"F*ck an apology, Mo',” he cut me off. "I'ma show that nigga I'm not soft!" The line hung up.

Leesha's number flashed on the screen beckoning me to answer. I accepted the call and prepared myself to hear an earful.

“Girl, I’ve been blowing you up. Are you okay?”

“I’m doing fine. I won’t be coming home tonight so don’t wait up,” I whispered.

“Dang, Bitch you must be getting yo’ needle threaded?”

“Yeah, something like that.” I sat on the side of the Jacuzzi and crossed my leg.

“Chile, I didn’t kno’ you were somewhere shaking up the sheets. You let Fabian hit that?” I could picture her pressing the phone to her ear smiling and hoping to hear a mouthful.

“Bye, Leesha.” I shook my head because she was all up in mine. I didn’t want to tell her I was with Blunt.

“Okay, I’ll be here when you get here, whenever that is.” She snickered.

“See you in the morning, Cuz,” I said, feeling deceitful.

We said our goodbyes, and I raced back into the room with Blunt. I crawled back into bed and laid on his chest. I thought about telling him what Fabian had said, but he would have gotten upset with me for calling him. So I decided to remain quiet and hope that it would all go away.

The rest of the day, we enjoyed each other’s company along with the room service that we ordered. The food was delicious, and I hadn’t been that happy in Blunt’s presence in a long time. I crossed my fingers and prayed that he was finally going to do right.