Jay’s remaining six months in lockdown breezed by pretty quickly. I never let on that I knew his punk ass had another baby. Also, I fucked Carlos’s fine ass up until a month ago when he started catching feelings. Ain’t nobody got time for that.
These past six months, I played my position with Jay well, even though I wanted to punch this nigga in the face every time I saw him. I made nice while I formulated my exit strategy. In a short time, I had stacked almost 100 grand.
Thank you, Jay. I can’t wait for you to come home, so I can leave your punk ass.
Jay was due to come home in a week, and I didn’t want to pick him up.
Imani and I were supposed to visit him the next day, but I wasn’t sure if that was going to happen.
Let Dominique get his ass.
Jay’s Mami, Imani and I were in the kitchen. I was feeding my baby breakfast when the phone rang.
“Hello?”
It was Jay. This muthafucka.
“Hey Mami,” he said excitedly. “Good morning, mi reina. How did you sleep?
What is my big girl doing?”
I rolled my eyes at the barrage of questions.
“I slept well, and Imani is eating breakfast,” I replied flatly. “Your mom is here too.”
“Qué te pasa,” Jay asked. “I have a headache,” I lied.
“Go to the bedroom,” he said. “I wanna hear you play with that pussy,” as if I didn’t just say I have a whole fucking headache.
“I have my period,” I lied again. I just wasn’t in the mood for his shit. It was hard enough playing this game in person. I wasn’t about to do this shit over the phone at home. No.
He sounded defeated.
“Y’all still coming tomorrow, right?”
I livened up a little bit, “Baby, you’ll be home in a week. It doesn’t make sense. I can use this weekend to get everything prepared for your arrival.”
“You’re right, mi amor. I can wait a week. I can’t wait to get home to my girls. Start looking for places and shit to plan a wedding. I told you I was gonna wife you,” he said happily.
“And, I can’t wait to get up in that sweet toto of yours.”
“Oh, my God. I am so excited,” I yelled with fake glee.
I ain’t shit! And neither is he.
I made up some excuse to get off the phone to carry on with my day.
Bye nigga.
Jay’s Mami asked if she could take Imani to visit family in New Jersey for the weekend. Of course, she can. I will have the whole weekend to myself!
BITCH!
I decided to have a girl’s day out with the homies. Shit, I might even hit a club tonight. I’m overdue.
You winning, heaux!
We got our shop on and decided to go to Mamajuana’s in the Bronx.
It was about 10’o o’clock. I headed out to pick up my girls, and we were on our way. Mamajuana was pumping. Men outnumbered women, and I was in the zone. We sat in the VIP section and got lit!
Our table was littered with Moet Nectar bottles, and our cups runneth over. I was a little tipsy, and dancing to my favorite Omega song, when my home girl Xiomara tapped me and motioned her mouth to me to look over at the club entrance. I turned my head, and in mid-song, I stopped dead in my tracks.
No. I know this isn’t Migue walking into the club with his boys.
Sure as shit, Migue and his crew of fine-ass muthafuckas were headed straight to the VIP section.
Bitch, keep it together.
I don’t know if I wanted to run, hide, shit myself or all three, but what I did know was, I wasn’t leaving. He looked good as fuck, and he still had that killer fucking smile. It had been almost three years since we last spoke, and I dreamed of seeing him again. And here Migue was in living color.
Be cool, heaux. Be cool.
Xiomara rubbed my back and grabbed my hand to dance. The homie got it. We started to turn up again, and they entered the VIP section and sat at the two tables next to ours. My heart was racing. Migue was sitting less than six feet away from me. I wanted to run over to him, but I was paralyzed. My dumb ass pretended like I didn’t see him. As I attempted to get our server’s attention for more food and liquor when a hand grabbed my arm gently, but firmly. I smelled Migue’s cologne before I saw that it was him. This nigga just rolled up on me.
Oh shit!
Xiomara looked at me like she was going to die. I felt butterflies in my stomach. “Long time no see, chula,” he whispered in my ear as he wrapped his arm around my waist.
“Hi, Migue,” I responded softly, hugging him.
My eyes started to sting, and I started to apologize.
Don’t cry.
“Let’s not do this right here, Mamita.”
Migue kissed my neck and said, “It’s Saturday night, and we are here to turn up, right?”
I nodded and smiled.
“Baila conmigo.”
I wound my ass right into his meat. He grabbed my shoulders and braced himself as he pounded his hips into my twerking ass. We definitely still had chemistry.
My God.
Migue and I sat down and fed each other finger foods and shared drinks. We cracked jokes and laughed. I know he wanted to kiss me. Shit, if he didn’t, I did. I didn’t ask if he had a girl. It didn’t matter.
“Did you drive your car?”
“Yeah. I met them here. Why,” Migue asked, sipping his Henny and coke.
“Let’s get out of here.”
“What about your girls?”
I rubbed his dick and whispered, “Xiomara can take my car. I want to go with you.”
“Aight.”
He got up from the booth, pointed at me as he whispered something to his homeboys and helped me up so we could leave. Migue gave his niggas a pound and headed to the door. I walked over to Xiomara, gave her the keys to my whip and told her I would text her in the morning. I hugged my girls and left with Migue.
*****************************************************************************************************
Although we were holding hands, we walked to his car in silence.
He opened my door, closed it, went to the other side and got in.
Migue put the key in the ignition, but he didn’t start the car.
“How’s the baby,” he asked.
“She’s good. Big and pretty,” I said quietly.
“She should have been mine.”
Awkward.
He started the car and stabbed off.
Twenty minutes later, we arrived at his condo.
Migue’s icy demeanor was unsettling. I had never seen this side of him before.
“Are you drunk,” he asked. “Is that why you’re here?”
“I’m tipsy, but I’m not drunk. And I want to be here.”
“So this is what married life is like for you? You get mad at your nigga, and end up in my bed?”
“I’m not married,” I said, annoyed.
“And I’m not in your bed –”
“Yet,” he interjected. “You aren’t in my bed yet. Ain’t that why you here?”
He was cocky as hell. Who the fuck is this nigga?And yes, that’s why I’m here. The heaux is back.
Migue walked up on me, pulled my dress over my head, threw it to the floor. He stepped back and took in the view of my ample breast and ass.
“You got thicker, chula,” he said as he licked his lips. “I like that shit.”
I sat on the couch and opened my legs, inviting him to a closer look at my dripping snatch.
Migue obliged. He slowly licked my kitty and fingered my asshole.
“Ay Migue. Asi, mi amor,” I moaned.
He devoured every drop of my sweet coochie juice, and I trembled uncontrollably.
I couldn’t believe Migue’s gorgeous face was between my thighs again.
He took his sweet time pleasing me. For the first time in damn near three years, I felt wanted. Carlos and I just fucked. And that’s exactly how I wanted it.
This nigga wanted me, and I wanted his ass right back.
I shrieked with delight as I had multiple orgasms.
Whoa.
De repente, Migue’s demeanor changed. It’s like he caught himself catching feelings again. We were caught up in the moment.
He, abruptly, stood up and swept my exhausted body up in his arms, threw my legs over his shoulders, wrapped his hands around my waist, slid his enormous snake inside me and pounded my yams into oblivion.
This was different. It was almost like he was punishing me for leaving him. And I fucking deserved it.
“Castigame, papi. Lo siento, mi amor. I never wanted to hurt you, baby,” I moaned as my box took the beating.
“Ahora, tu me quieres,” Migue demanded between long, hard strokes that pierced my cervix.
“You didn’t give us a chance,” he snarled. ‘You just left me for that nigga. Yeah, you deserve this. Tómalo!”
I couldn’t say shit. Half of me just wanted to tell him I’d give up everything to be with him. The other half didn’t deserve a man like Migue.
He was cold. But I still wanted him.
“Pónte en cuatro,” he growled.
“Ok, Papi.”
I turned my ass to him and waited for the strike. He pushed my legs into a split and thrust himself inside me. I winced in pain, and death gripped the pillows on the sofa.
“Damn Migue!”
The more I winced, the harder he fucked me.
Migue punished my pussy relentlessly with the pipe. It hurt so good, but mostly it hurt. The more he banged my guts out, the wetter my kitty got.
Heaux, you love this shit. You asked for this dick, and you better take it.
“You like being treated like a bitch, huh,” he asked, yanking my hair as he pounded harder. “Look at you. Who’s fucking Jay’s bitch now?
“You were so in love with that muthafucka, and look at you now,” he laughed. “Letting me knock the bottom out your shit.”
That 11 inches of pure uncut beef ravaged my guts.
I didn’t know what to say. Tears streamed down my eyes as I let Migue have his way with me.
His raw emotion was something that I missed, but I never imagined that I would be on the receiving end of his anger and hurt.
Migue’s breathless moans sped up, and I knew he was about to explode.
“Abre la boca,” he ordered as I scrambled to open my mouth to receive his creamy load. “Take that shit.”
I jerked his cock as he released his load into my waiting throat.
The salty cocktail oozed down the sides of my mouth and onto my boobs as I drained his snake.
Without saying a word, he walked to the bathroom to get a wet towel.
As I lay crying on the floor, Migue returned with the towel and began to wipe my mouth and breasts. His touch was so tender, and I couldn’t look at him.
I felt ashamed.
“Lo siento, baby. This ain’t me,” he said quietly. “I’m not that nigga.”
He wiped my tears, grabbed his boxer briefs and t-shirt, put them on and handed me a tank top.
“I never imagined we would be here, chula. You were it for me.”
“I don’t hate you,” he measured his words carefully and continued. “I just don’t want any parts of this.”
“You made a choice, and it wasn’t me.”
Oh, now, he doesn’t want any part of this?
“Migue, I wanted it to be you. But I didn’t know how to tell you that I was pregnant with the next nigga’s baby,” I answered back.
“And it wasn’t even on some planned shit…Jay was jealous of you and got me pregnant. Abortion wasn’t an option.”
His demeanor softened. There was a long moment of silence. We stared at one another. We were both so very defeated.
Finally he said, “Mira. Estoy cansado. No quiero hablar de eso. You spending the night, or do I need to take you home?”
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