“I don’t wanna be with anyone else. This…all of this...is all yours.” She exploded all over me, melting onto me. Her * constricting deliciously over my stick.
The thought of what I was in…what I was feeling being all mine made me lose control. I tried to hold back as much as I could but between what she was putting on me, her words and her sensual tone, I was in bad shape.
“Oooo! You’re scratching…my…asssssssss. Go ahead. It’s…alright. Let it…go. Don’t…worry about me…baby. Let….it…go!” she sputtered as her soft breasts clapped my face.
And with that, I had no choice but to let it blow.
Chapter 3
Rayna
Life began to move so fast after my birthday excursion. One debacle I was faced with just two weeks after our return was the recurrence of Michelle’s cancer. It happened so all of a sudden. She was in and out of the hospital and it was all consuming.
I’d practically moved into her place, I had to in order to help out with Erin. She needed to be taken to all her appointments including the doctor, acting classes, and soccer. In addition, I made sure Michelle was transported back and forth to chemo and radiation therapy as well as doctor visits. She had others helping out when I couldn’t, but I assumed the responsibility of primary care-giver.
The responsibility grew so great that, with the permission of the higher ups of the firm, I brought in consultants to take appointments for me when I needed to be with Michelle. The only reason that idea was entertained was because it was Michelle who was being cared for; the niece of one of the partners. If such wasn’t the case, I’d be in a heap of trouble. I could tell they preferred per diem consultants rather than stretching the therapists on staff.
One Saturday Azmir and I decided to hit The Grove. I had a few things to pick up and so did he. I’d been putting going to the mall off with my crazy schedule, but this particular day Michelle insisted that I get out and be with Azmir. It was a beautiful day in sunny California so I was happy that I obliged. After doing a little shopping, we decided to have a bite to eat. We spent our entire lunch debating the top five best rappers. We agreed on the best but couldn’t sync the order of our lists otherwise. The conversation spilled over into our post-lunch stroll and found its way into a store or two.
“You think LL’s one of the best because of his ability to stay relevant after over twenty years in the game, but I’m basing my rankings on lyrical style and content,” Azmir argued.
“And you allow being a Brooklyn-native to factor into your ranking. You cannot have three Brooklynites in your top five, MirMir!” I pleaded.
Not too long after those words left my lips I heard, “MirMir? Hmmmmm…based upon that pet name, I can tell you’re fucking her and—she likes it. You must be into it as well because you do have her in the mall…a place where it can be assumed that you’ve spent money on her. It must be the newness of the * because you are carrying bags, which means she’s got you spending a little cash. Oh, and judging by the names on the bags, you’re not making it rain on this hoe.” That was followed by a chorus of laughter.