“Yeah?” Kenya moaned, trembling from cumming. Bitch was always thirsty for the dick like she ain’t have a nigga.
“You know Camarih?”
“Th—the girl you had at the studio?” She frowned as she continued to ride me. Shit was weak right now. Camarih had my dick spoiled or some shit.
“Yeah. You know if she fucking with anybody?”
“I do-n’t thi-nk so. Why?”
“Because that’s mine, and I wanna make sure ain’t no other nigga getting up in that.”
Pausing and staring down at me, Kenya spat, “Really? I’m right here, riding your dick, and you’re worried about another bitch’s pussy?”
“Yeah. Hop off. You can suck me up.” I started sitting up, so Kenya got off the bed and onto her knees. Opening her mouth, she was about to take my dick in, but I grabbed her hair tightly, making her wince in pain. “And watch who the fuck you calling a bitch, aight?” I took a toke on the blunt with my free hand.
“Aight.” She nodded as much as she could while staring up at me.
Loosening my grip on her hair, I let her suck my dick with the condom on. When I got ready to bust, I yanked her off, and she dropped her jaw like the nasty hoe that she was so I could bust all in and around her mouth. I smiled, watching my work paint her face.
“It’s paper towels in the bathroom. You can use some then head out.” I ashed the blunt.
Kenya left to the bathroom and returned with a clean face a couple minutes later to get dressed.
“So you gon’ be at the studio later?” she questioned once I stood up to get ready for my second shower.
“Yeah, but don’t roll through.”
“Why?”
“’Cause I said so. Not unless you got some shit on the nigga my bitch is fucking with.” I peered over my shoulder since I was grabbing fresh boxers from the drawer.
“Okay. I’ll keep my ear to the streets.”
“Thanks. Now take yo’ ass home for I call yo’ nigga and tell him you be kissing him in the mouth with the same lips I be nuttin’ on.”
Giggling like the thot that she was, Kenya pranced out and left my crib. Her nigga was a bitch. I’d run into him before and gladly told him how nasty his hoe was, and he ain’t pop shit.
Once I locked up, I got in the shower, running through my fucking head who would be stupid enough to fuck Camarih after I put word out.
I wanted her to be my girlfriend, but I didn’t wanna be her fucking boyfriend, if that shit made sense. A nigga didn’t want her fucking nor spending time with another nigga, but I knew the only way to keep her from doing that shit was to be her man or just murk every muthafucka that tried to be her man.
Hmm… I was leaning more toward the latter. Eventually, I’d be the only nigga left, and she’d have no choice but to fuck with me. I smirked at my thoughts as I rinsed the soap off my body.
After my shower, I brushed, flossed, and used Listerine since I’d smoked, and then got dressed.
I only wore two types of fits: either sweats/track pants and a white t-shirt, or jeans, a white t-shirt, and an open flannel. I chose the sweats since a nigga was just hitting the studio and no extra shit, then slipped on some socks and Gucci slides.
Hopping into my Grand National, I turned up my music and sped through the hood until I pulled up on the studio. It was a little after 6 p.m. in the evening, so it was only slightly gloomy, yet the sun was still out.
As I gathered my shit into my Jansport backpack, I spotted Camarih across the way, coming out of the nail shop. I saw a nigga with her, so I immediately hopped out of my shit to dart over there. I was about to fuck this nigga up.
“Tony—” Camarih spoke as soon as she saw me nearing.
WHAM!
I sent my fist right into that muthafucka’s jaw, forcing him into the cement wall.
“You think you about to be fucking my girl.” I hit his ass again.
“Tony, stop! This is the owner’s boyfriend!” Camarih screamed, pulling on my t-shirt.
I dropped the nigga since I was holding him up by the collar of his shirt and then backed up some. Cuz was out.
“My bad. I thought—”
“Even if he was, I am not your girl! Remember? You don’t want that, and now, neither do I, so leave me the fuck alone!”
“Nah, you leave me the fuck alone.”
“Nigga, I’ve been trying! You’re the one running up on niggas you see me talking to!”
“Oh, for real, jelly donut? The way I had yo’ legs over my shoulders, digging that pussy out in my whip, sure didn’t seem like you was trying to leave a nigga alone. Dumb ass.” I started off but felt something sharp hit the back of my head. There was a little blood, and when I turned around, a rock was on the floor. Slowly peering up from it, I saw a fuming Camarih. “Oh, for real?” I took one step, so she booked it down the sidewalk, and I was right behind her stupid ass.
“Leave me alone, you psycho!” She had the nerve to yell over her shoulder like she ain’t just knock the shit out of me with a rock.
Speeding up, I finally got to her, but not before she was in her car with the doors locked and the engine on.
“Open this shit!” I barked, yanking on the handle of her Toyota Avalon.
“Fuck you, nigga.” She floored it away from the curb, running over my fucking foot.
I had to take a pause and a couple of deep breaths because I was ready to say fuck this studio session and go murk her ass.
Walking back to the studio, I ignored the pain in my head and my foot. Not paying the niggas saying ‘what’s up’ to me any mind, I made my way to the bathroom to check on my head and then get a good look at my foot before heading to the recording room.
Eitan, Rahim, and I got to work, while my cousin Carter, and the homies Cornell and Abel chilled. About an hour later, a new song was finished, so we sat back to take a listen.
Halfway through the song, Joy appeared in the doorway of the studio room, but I paid her no mind.
“Hey, can I talk to you?” She neared me.
“No.”
“It’s important.”
Hesitating for a minute as I looked up at her, I replied, “When the song go off.”
The track was done a minute later, but I had Rahim run it back as Joy waited. She wasn’t on my muthafuckin priority list, so if it was that important, she would have no issue waiting.
After the third listen, I got up to lead Joy out while everyone else enjoyed the music and rolled up. When she and I got into the studio room next door, I nodded my head to tell her to start talking.
“So I got another procedure done. Well, not procedure, but I took a pill like usual. I was in a lot of pain and on bed rest two weeks ago, that’s why I haven’t been around.”
“Joy, what the fuck you telling me this shit for?” I scowled, irritated with her stupid ass and irritated that Camarih had my damn head and foot hurting.
“I’m telling you because it was your baby, Tony! Don’t you care about what happened?”
“Nah, I don’t.”
“So you just never care about babies that are yours?” She shrugged, tearing up.
“I wouldn’t say that. I just don’t give a fuck about this or what you got going on. That’s yo’ fucking body, and you ain’t my bitch for me to give a fuck. Again, I still don’t get why you rolled up here and pulled me aside for this shit.”
“Fuck you, Tony. Just know this will never happen again. Next one, I’m keeping, and—”
“Won’t be a next one, ’cause I’m never sliding up in yo’ ass again. And if I do, I’m strapping up. Stupid ass.” I moved around her and went back to the original recording room.
By this time, smoke was in the air, “Red Coupe” by Skeme was blasting, and clearly, the homies had invited some hoes because it was about eight females in here. Sliding through, I went to sit at the mixer, checking my phone to see if Camarih had hit me, even though I knew she hadn’t. Fuck her crazy ass. I was done with her. Bitch was driving me
insane and was gon’ make me kill her ass.
I had a liquor cabinet installed in here, so I used the key to it to pull a bottle of Hennessy out. Eitan grabbed some styrofoam cups and began giving anybody one who wanted something to sip on.
I distributed the shit as I bobbed my head to the music, then lit up a blunt. I felt eyes on me, and when I looked over, I spotted Joy watching me hard, with her eyebrows damn near in between her fucking eyes. Didn’t make me no never mind, so I continued getting cross-faded along with the homies.
Two hoes walked up on me, one cute as fuck with dark skin and big curly hair, then another who had light skin that looked dehydrated as fuck. The dark skinned one sat in my lap, which I proudly welcomed, and the light skinned one came close to do the same, but I got a whiff of some shit I ain’t like.
I knew females had problems and shit sometimes, but they needed to handle it before coming my muthafuckin’ way because I’d embarrass their ass.
“Nah.” I nudged her back.
“Dang, why?” She tried to touch my shoulder, but I blocked that shit, making the homies laugh.
“You gotta be wiping from back to front or some shit because yo’ pussy smells like ass.” I shook my head before taking another toke on the blunt.
The female in my lap, along with my cousin and homeboys, laughed. The bitch I was talking about did too, I guess trying to save face. I didn’t give a fuck. She could have a funky ass pussy all day, just as long as she wasn’t trying to put the shit on me.
The festivities continued, with old girl in my lap who I learned was named Evie, giving me a sensual ass lap dance. Just as I was getting into the shit, she flew out of my lap, and I saw Joy bashing her face in. I moved back some, because if I got hit, I was busting caps in muthafuckas. Eventually, Carter got up to pull Joy off of Evie.
“What the fuck, bitch!” Evie shouted.
“Quit dancing on taken niggas, hoe!”
“This is your girl?” Evie got up from the floor, hair disheveled and blood coming out of her nose. She was pointing at Joy, who was trying to break free from Carter.
“I’m single.” I shrugged, blowing out smoke.
As soon as those words left my mouth, Joy broke down into tears, still screaming shit at Evie.
“Why she so loud, bruh?” Eitan asked, making me crack the fuck up. We were high as shit.
“What you doing in the hood knowing you can’t fight?” I looked over at Evie, before everyone in the studio, minus Joy and Carter, roared with laughter, including myself.
Evie stormed out, I guess embarrassed, but I ain’t really care. None of these hoes were Camarih. I never gave a fuck about ’em before her, and I sure as hell didn’t now that I was checking for her psycho ass so hard. Stupid bitch. I shook my head at my thoughts as I smoked some more.
Placing Joy down, Carter yelled. “Man, how you making jokes and shit when you see what you doing to her!” He gestured toward Joy. I could see out of my peripheral.
I was facing the mixer, chopping it up with Rahim and Abel, so I slowly turned in my chair to face Carter’s ass when I heard him hollering like a hoe.
Rising up as I inhaled on the blunt, I just eyed this nigga as I blew out smoke. Had the music not been on, you’d be able to hear a pin drop because everyone was on edge trying to see what would happen next.
“’Cause I do whatever the fuck I wanna do, cuz. And if you got a problem with the shit, move something. I don’ already told you, you could hit the pussy, so I don’t see what you up in here crying for.”
“It ain’t about that, Tony. She’s hurt.”
“She’s hurt.” I mocked him, making the room cackle. I chuckled along with them but ceased it immediately to say, “Shut yo’ hoe ass up. Crying more than her stupid ass right now.”
“Ain’t nobody crying, T. I just don’t approve of how you be doing her.”
Walking up to him, I blew smoke in his face and asked, “So how you gon’ handle that?”
Carter shook his head and then escorted Joy’s dramatic ass from the room.
On the outside looking in, yeah, Joy appeared to be this sweet bitch that was so good to me, but it wasn’t even like that. She was weak as fuck, had no substance, and just wasn’t about shit. The only thing she had going for her was her pretty ass face, good pussy, and nice body, and even then, Camarih had her beat in those departments.
I honestly gave no fucks about what anybody had to say in regards to my treatment of Joy. She wasn’t my bitch, and just because she cried and liked to act a muthafuckin’ fool like she owned me, didn’t mean I was supposed to respect her ass. Just like the rest of these hoes, I didn’t give a fuck about her.
Walking back to the mixer, I took down a gulp of my Hennessy and said, “In case any other female in here got shit twisted, I don’t give a fuck about these hoes. Not a one. Not you, ya mammy, or whoever else. And I sure as fuck don’t give a shit about these cry baby ass niggas.”
“On God.” Eitan rose up to slap hands with me.
“Get back to the shit.” I turned the music up louder and continued to smoke, drink, and chill with my peoples.
Joy and Evie could suck my dick, or the next muthafucka’s; it really ain’t even matter to a nigga.
5
Camarih
Two weeks later…
My online orders had increased by a lot. I went from selling only a measly ten products a month to now fifty to seventy-five. That still wasn’t much, but it was for me. Any improvement, no matter how small, was a win, and I had done it all on my own.
Yeah, Tony had helped me only slightly, which I appreciated him for, but at the end of the day, this was my own hard work. There was nothing wrong with getting help from a man, whether in the form of gifts or with your business, but it was nothing better than seeing something that was built with your own hard work and elbow grease.
Because of this small yet large feat, Shanece had the idea that we should go to San Diego for this cool little parade where you got to dress up, or down, since most people wore little to nothing. I was already off from my night job on Friday, so I just requested Saturday, and luckily got approved. It felt so good to be away on vacation.
“Bitch, I don’t wanna walk out with you looking like that.” Shanece eyed me as I came from the bathroom in our hotel room.
The only thing covered on my body was my vagina and my breasts; everything else was out, and I had a headpiece on that matched my ‘outfit’. Shanece had introduced me to this shop where we bought our fits for the parade.
“Girl, stop.” I checked myself out in the mirror.
“I’m serious. Your body is banging, and mine is just… not.”
“Yes it is. Stop.” I chuckled, looking her over. My colors were green and gold, and hers were purple and gold. Shanece had a nice body, she was just on the slimmer side, whereas I had thicker thighs and a big butt. My breasts weren’t huge, a nice C cup that fit the rest of my body.
A lot of my life, I had nothing to do, so I put time in at the gym, working out whenever I could out of boredom. So my body had become super fit without me even trying if you will.
“Okay, let’s go party.” Shanece grabbed her camera.
We left the hotel and got some good pictures of one another. I decided I would wait to post mine because I just wanted to enjoy my time here.
When we got to the parade, it was live as hell with drinks and food readily available, and music that I usually didn’t listen to, but I liked it. Shanece and I joined in with the people walking and began dancing as we made our way through the streets of San Diego, with our drinks in hand. Most of the songs were reggae and some other types, not really any hip-hop or r&b. A couple of Jamaican guys were near us, and since the song playing was popping, Shanece and I began dancing with them.
I loved to dance, so I had no problem grinding my ass on the cute Jamaican man who I realized was packing. I was drunk, so when he held my hips as I wound them to the music, I didn’t stop him. The men were very respectf
ul though, not even pressuring Shanece and I to go to their room or anything. They just wanted to have fun, like us, which I appreciated. The last thing I wanted was to hop on another dick.
“Oh my gosh! That was so fun! We should take some pictures now to show the ‘after look’,” I suggested.
“Yes! Stand over there!” Shanece pointed to a pretty cottage.
I stood in front of it for my picture, then waited for Shanece to pick her background so I could take hers.
It was now nighttime, so we went back to the hotel to shower and then change clothes so we could enjoy dinner. We were still a little tipsy, but it was fine since our hotel was in an area that had a lot of restaurants we could walk to.
“I’m so proud of you, Camarih.” Shanece raised her glass of wine as we sat across from one another in the booth seats of the restaurant.
“Thank you.” I clinked mine with hers. “Thank you also for inviting me to this. I feel like I never do anything.”
“Girl, same. I feel like all I do is work.”
“You don’t go out with Paul?” I quizzed just as the waiter set down our plates.
Shanece and I thanked her before she walked off.
“Umm, no, not really.”
“Oh.” I sensed that she didn’t like my question, so I left it alone, tasting some of my food.
“Paul is sick, Camarih. He has cancer. He was diagnosed two years ago, so he’s really weak at this point. Going out isn’t really on the agenda for us as a couple anymore.”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”
No wonder she had no recent pictures of him on her page. I knew something was up, but then again, I figured maybe she decided to be more private with their relationship.
“No, you didn’t know. And it’s been a while since he got diagnosed, so I don’t cry or feel down when it’s brought up like I used to.”
“Is he getting better?”
“Uh, sometimes it seems like it, and other times, we don’t really know. But we just pray.”
I nodded, feeling like shit. We were having such a good time until I decided to pry with my stupid question.
She Gave Her All to the Hood’s Finest Page 14