Even More Wifey Status

by Racquel Williams

  I heard the doorbell ring, and everybody knew that I got nervous every time I heard that darn doorbell, so I grabbed my gun. Yes, I still had my. 380. I walked over to the door. Shit, it was not who I expected, but I damn sure did not want to see this bitch. I opened the door to see what the hell she wanted.

  “What is it? I thought I told you never to show your face around here again.”

  “Baby, I just need to talk, just five minutes of your time,” she pleaded.

  “Don’t call me baby. My name is Sierra, and I damn sure don’t have no time for you. So get tha fuck on before I slam this door in your face,” I said in a stern voice and proceeded to close the door. That’s when that bitch placed her foot in the door preventing me from closing it. See, this bitch done tried me more than once. I had my gun in my hand, so I pointed it at her head.

  “I just told your bitch ass to leave. Don’t make me shoot your ass for trespassing.”

  “Oh my, you would put a gun on yo’ mama? I birthed you. I am yo’ mama. I just want to talk,” she pleaded with tears rolling down her face and her voice trembling.

  I don’t know what it was, but something that she said struck a nerve in me because I had tears in my eyes too. I was shivering on the inside. I wanted to reach out and hug her, but I was careful not to go that far. I lowered my gun and opened the door.

  “Come in. You have five minutes, and after that, I want you gone for good,” I warned.

  I walked to the kitchen and poured her a glass of lemonade. That’s all her ass was getting from me, and even with that, I was being generous. I poured a glass of milk for me and sat on the chair.

  “So what’s good? After all these years, what the fuck you got to say?”

  “Sierra, I know I messed up, and I am so, so sorry. I was on crack real bad, prostituting myself to keep a roof over our head. I was in bad shape; I would not be of any use to you.”

  “You know what? That’s your fucking business. I was your child. I needed you. You left me for dead, Mother dearest. At fifteen, you walked out and left your only seed, and now you’re here telling me you’re sorry? Are you fucking serious?” I blurted out.

  She walked over to me and looked in my eyes. “I know it. I was a bad mother. I was selling pussy in the room next to you. I know you done heard some of the noises. I did not deserve you, and you deserved better. I thought that when I left, it would be better for you.”

  “Better? I had to fuck dope boys to get food, pads, and clothes on my back. I was a ho just to survive, you hear me? I did not choose that life. You handed it to me. I think ’bout that shit all the fucking time.”

  “That’s true, but look at you. You turned out well, and you have a career, a house, a baby on the way, and a man that loves you. I never had that. After my mama died, I was young and pregnant with you, and I had to boost clothes just to buy milk and diapers. Life just got too hard on me, and I turned to crack. I tried to quit, but I couldn’t, and before I knew it, I was strung out.”

  I was not buying her stories. All I could remember was the day that she walked out and how broken I was. Then again, I knew that I was sick of all the tricks that she brought home. I was ready for this conversation to be over, because I was feeling sick all over again.

  “Listen, I don’t know what you want from me, but I have nothing to give. I am grown now and do not need—and I repeat—do not need a mother. I’m happy that you got clean, and you’re doing better. But other than that, take your problems to God, ask him for forgiveness, ’cause truthfully, I can’t forgive you for what you’ve done to me. I just can’t,” I said while shaking my head.

  She grabbed my hand and got on her knees. This shit was getting really weird, and I needed to get this woman out of my house fast.

  “Sierra, please, I’m begging you. I need you. Please give me another chance. When I heard that you got shot, I burst out crying. I was scared that I would not have a chance to ask for your forgiveness. Now we have a chance to make it right. Please don’t take this chance away from me,” she pleaded with tears and snot running down her face.

  All this shit sounded good, but I could not—would not—allow her back in my life. I just could not go there with her, and I was tired of hearing all the shit. I pushed her hand off of me and stood up.

  “Listen, I cannot get over what you did to me, and I am tired of hearing all this crying. You chose to suck on a glass dick; you chose to sell your pussy, so accept that this is the outcome. I will not give you a free pass to walk back in my life. I want you to leave now! Please don’t come back.” I pointed toward the door.

  She turned toward me with a look of disbelief plastered on her face. I didn’t pay it any mind. Instead, I walked over to the door and opened it. She walked to the door with her head hanging low. When she was completely out the door, I closed it behind her.

  I needed a drink. Even though I wasn’t supposed to be drinking, I walked over to the kitchen cabinet and poured me a tall glass of Baileys. I took a few huge gulps so I could numb some of the mental pain that I was feeling.

  I continued cooking dinner. While the chicken was frying on top of the stove, I walked into the living room and cut the television on. It was 5:00 p.m., and I wanted to catch the news on CBS. The news anchor was reporting a shooting at a motel on the South Side. That motel looked familiar, so I cut the volume up so I could hear what took place.

  “I am here reporting from the La Quinta Inn at 3343 Midlothian Turnpike, where officials are reporting a double murder. A young lady and a man were found dead in room 23B. The police are asking for the citizens’ help; if you’ve heard anything, please call the RPD,” the reporter said.

  I shook my head. I was so tired of all the killing in this city. It even bothered me more, now that I was pregnant. I really need to leave, but those were only fleeting thoughts. I was born and raised here. I couldn’t imagine living elsewhere; plus, I had some business to handle.

  I finished cooking dinner. Then I made fried potatoes with onions, peppers, fried chicken, and sweet corn. I even made a big glass of lemonade. This was our first official dinner since I’ve been home.

  It was around nine when I heard Alijah open the door. I spoke to him earlier and got a vibe that something was going on with him, but as usual, he didn’t really include me in his affairs. I got up and strolled downstairs. I was happy to see my man. After that episode with my egg carrier, I needed a strong shoulder to lean on.

  “Hey, babe,” I greeted him.

  “Hey, ma, how you feeling?” he asked, and then planted a big wet one on my forehead.

  “I’m good; your food is on the table. Let me warm it up for you.”

  “Damn! That’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout. My baby handlin’ her business.”

  “Boy, whatever. Don’t I always?” I asked jokingly.

  “Nah, it ain’t that. I just know you been sick, so I didn’t expect this.”

  “I feel you, but I’m good, though. I haven’t been feeling no pain lately, and I was vomiting earlier, but I ate some crackers and drank some ginger ale.”

  “Yea, my little man is growin’. I can’t wait for him to get here.”

  “Little man? How you so sure? It might be a li’l me.”

  “Yea, whatever, Sierra, but you better pop out a boy. If not, I’m sending the baby back in there.”

  “Boy, you trippin’. I can’t wait to push. They ain’t even got to tell me to push. I’m gonna open my legs wide and make one big-ass push. Trust me, I got this.”

  “Yea, just don’t rip my pussy, ’cause I ’ont want no big pussy gal. You heard!”

  We both busted out laughing. That shit sound funny as hell, especially because he spoke in his native tongue. I sat there as he ate and drank a Guinness beer.

  “So, ma, you still don’t remember anything about the shooting?”

  “Baby, no. I’m really trying, you know, but it’s like that part of my memory just disappeared.”

  “OK, cool. No problem. I’m just anxious
to know who tha fuck violated you like this.”

  “I understand, babe, and trust me, I want to know too,” I said in a somber tone.

  He finished eating, and we headed upstairs. He got in the shower, and I got back in bed. I was going to make love to my man tonight. It’s been awhile since I felt his dick, and I was well in need of some good fucking. He got out of the shower, smelling all good. He lay on his back looking at me as if I were a piece of meat, so I winked at him and pulled the towel loose. I could smell the fresh scent of the Irish Spring body wash.

  I lay there for a minute so I could savor the moment. I stared at his soft dark manhood, brought my face closer until my lips were touching the tip. I was ready to make sweet love to it. I licked the tip of it a few times, and then licked along the side while working it up and down. It did not take long for it to get hard as a rock. A lot of bitches claimed that they didn’t like to suck dick, but I beg to differ. This was my man, and if you left it up to me, I would suck the black off of it. I continued to please him, and I got the feeling that he loved it from his moans and groans.

  I wasn’t ready to ease up just yet. My intention was to suck him dry, or so I thought because he grabbed my head and pulled it closer to his dick. Regular, round-the-way chicks complained about how their mouth got tired. I was a pro, as sad as it might sound. I’d been sucking dick since I was fifteen years old. I used to use it as a control over weak-ass niggas, but with Alijah, I really enjoyed myself. I felt the veins rising, so I knew he was getting ready to bust.

  I started to suck harder and faster, deep throating all nine-and-a-half inches of that Jamaican wood. As he finally exploded in my mouth, I relaxed and let every drop of his milk shake slide down my throat, and when I was finished, I used my tongue to gently clean up every drop that was left. I then got on top of him. I knew I had to get his dick hard once again, so I placed one of my breasts in his mouth. I started to rub his soft dick on my clit, and it rose up instantly. I then slid it into my slippery, tight, sweet jar. I’ve always loved the feel of his dick as it entered my domain. I slid all the way down on his pole so I could feel the full effect. I bounced on his dick as if I were a professional jockey. The vibe that I was getting was one that I wanted to savor.

  He lay there and let me have total control of the situation, that was, until my legs started to tremble. He pulled me closer to him, and I had multiple orgasms. They came on so strong that I felt like the veins in my head were about to bust open, and my body was going into convulsions. I blamed it on the lack of sex. I grabbed on tight to him and released the pressure that I was holding inside. My love juice spilled onto his dick, which must’ve turned him on because he proceeded to pound on my walls. I start to scream as loud as I could. It was definitely screams of pain and pleasure mixed together. I dug my fingernails into his back as he applied more pressure. After what seemed like forever of an extreme fuck session, he finally busted. I have to admit, the dick was fire, and my pussy was definitely burning up.

  I stood up and ran to the bathroom as his come leaked down my legs. Quickly, I jumped into the shower with the biggest smile on my face, thinking, I love me some him. He ended up joining me in the shower, and we finished off our sexercise session.

  Alijah Jackson

  After hanging out with the guys and handling some business, I decided to roll out. It was getting late, and I hated to leave Sierra in the house at night. Even though she has her burner, I still felt the need to be there to protect her, after all that has happened.

  My mind was speeding; I was all over the place. First things first, I needed an accountant. I was so used to Markus handling e’erything, but now that he’s not here, I have money all over the place. I needed to make a deposit into my accounts, but I was procrastinating because of all the things that had been going on. Shit, I still couldn’t come to grips with the fact that holmes was so fucking stupid as to fuck my bitch and take my dough, and to make it worse, he never thought that I would figure it out. Oh well, that pussy hole got exactly what he had coming to him. I heard the other day that his family came out here looking for him. His bigmouthed sister even called my phone. I told her ass that dude left without even notifying me. That was my story, and I was sticking to it. I had a talk with Saleem, and he guaranteed me that they will never find his ass, and I was happy because after reading all the evidence that Shayna gave to them pigs, I wasn’t sure that they weren’t looking for him and looking at me for his disappearance.

  The drive home was a long and depressing one. Nothing seemed right to me. I could’ve lost my life earlier over some pussy. I wasn’t sure if anyone saw me leaving or not. I searched my memory to make sure I didn’t see anyone on my way out. That’s when it hit me that on my way up, there was a woman and a boy in the hallway. I remembered because the boy looked directly in my eyes. I slammed my hand onto the steering wheel.

  “Fuck, fuck!”

  How did I forget that situation? My blood was boiling. I learned in this game, never to leave any witnesses, and, boy, did I fuck up. I prayed to Jah that they do not connect the dots.

  I lit me up a long spliff. I needed my mind right before I entered the house, because Jah knew that I couldn’t get Sierra in this mess. How do I even explain to her that I went to cheat on her with the same bitch she fought, and I was set up and ended up killing ’em? That shit didn’t even sound right in my mind, so I knew damn well it’s not going to sit well with her.

  I did my ritual of circling the block before I entered the house. For now, I left all my troubles and the street at the door. I needed to spend some down time with my lady. I knew she been through so much in such a little time since she met me. Sometimes I wonder why she’s still around. I mean, I’m a dog. I accepted that, and, yes, I loved all different kinds of pussy. But at the end of the day, I wanted that one special person, and I found her, and now she’s having my seed. The next step was to marry her ass, but first, I need a fucking divorce—or hell, nah, I’d be a widower as soon as I find that ole snitching-ass bitch.

  This was definitely our first time kicking it like this. She made dinner, and we talked. I wanted us to get back to the point where we hang out and act a fool, but I knew I had to be patient. She was still upset that I went and dug up her moms, but I really thought, and I still believe, that they need to have a relationship.

  The night turned out well. I ate, showered, and got some of the best head a man could ever get. Then shorty rode me like I was her stallion, but I loved every moment of it. I wished that I could just stay faithful because she was every man’s dream woman. Sexy, independent, and could ride a good dick. Shit, I’d be a fool if I didn’t make it official.

  Chapter Six

  Shayna Jackson

  Time flew by, and I was sick and tired of lying low. This was not how I wanted to live my life. I had pictured that by now, I would’ve been on a beach in South America sipping on a glass of expensive red wine, relaxing with a young buck half my age.

  Why is it that Alijah was released from custody and still walking these streets? That’s what I was trying to figure out. I’ve been a defense attorney for years, and I’ve never seen or heard no shit like that before. It was pure bullshit, especially with all the evidence that I gave them. I knew his money was long, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he had the DA in his pockets. I prayed that I was wrong as hell because if that’s the case, that would only mean one thing, and that was . . . He knew I set him up. I knew I was thinking all kinds of shit, but I also knew that many times, my intuition was correct. I need to make moves fast and get the hell away from Virginia. Shit, depending on what he knew, I might need to leave the country.

  I called Commissioner Sander’s office. I had some serious business to discuss with him. He was my only way out of this fucked-up situation. I sure missed Markus, because when he was around, I always knew what was taking place. I still wondered what happened to him. Hopefully, his ass was alive, but I doubt it. Oh well, now was not the time to be worried about the next nigga
. I have my own worries, and by the look of things, I was on my own.

  * * *

  The weekend went by fast, and Monday was already upon us. I woke up bright and early, showered, and got dressed in a black Vera Wang pant suit. I had serious business to handle, and I had a feeling it was going to be a long day.

  I was out the door by 9:00 a.m. and off to Sanders’s office on West Broad Street. I walked in and gave his secretary my name. In no time she motioned for me to go in his office. There he was, sitting behind his wooden desk in a bright yellow suit that resembled a block of welfare cheese.

  “Hello, Shayna. I hope it’s OK to call you by your first name,” he chuckled.

  I sat in the chair across from him. He was not even a gentleman. When you see a woman enter your office, you’re supposed to stand up and greet her. Not his no-manners-having ass.

  “Hello, Commissioner. You can call me whatever the hell you want,” I said bluntly.

  “What brought you to my neck of the woods? I tried to ring you a few times, but my calls went to voice mail. I thought you kicked me to the curb, and here, you call out of the blue. I tell you, you’re one strange lady,” he said.

  “I’m here on business. Just because I suck and fuck you, that don’t mean I want you to blow my fucking phone up,” I spat at him.

  “Wow! Wow! Hold on, lady, you behaving like I’m just a piece of meat or something.”

  “Listen, Sanders, this is what I need. I need you to turn over Alijah’s file to the feds so they can charge him.”

  “You know I can’t do that. The district attorney’s office closed the case because of insufficient evidence. I did my part. I gave them everything that you gave me, and I really thought that we had a strong case, but I guess not.”

  “Bullshit. I handed you this nigga on a silver platter. I gave you a fucking tape with this man’s voice. I gave you all the names of the key players. Damn, what the fuck else did y’all want from me? Fucking blood?”