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Authors: Cynthia White

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BOOK: Boss Bitch Swag
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I gave Mercedes my cell number and told her to call me if she needed anything. The ball was now in her court
; i
f she wanted to get low one good time before she started college
,
she had my number. She was already curious
; h
er eyes gave that much away. During our conversation
,
I kept catching her lookin
g
down at the bu
lge
in my pants. She wanted to know how big my dick was and if I could really put it down the way her big sister
had
described
- so
I didn’t have to wait long
; m
y cell rang before nightfall.

 

I was in my home
gym liftin
g
weights when Mercedes called
, s
weat cover
ing
my body from head to toe. I sent Pee-Wee to pick her up while I jumped in the shower.
Once I was finished,
I met li

l mama at my front door wearing nothinOnring no/span>
g
more than a pair of white silk Hugo Boss pajama bottoms. Chicks always to
ld
me how good the color white looked against my dark skin
,
so I used that shit to my advantage. Mercedes couldn't keep her eyes off a nigga.

 

“Boss, I’ve had a crush on you ever since I was a li

l girl
,
” Mercedes confessed as she walked up on me and pressed her soft chest up against my rock-hard stomach. “I been dreamin’ about this moment for a long time.”

 

She wanted it just as much as I did
- m
aybe even more
– and i
t was my Boss duty to give her what she

d been daydreamin
g
about. She was one of those fake ass good girls, the ones who act all quiet and shy in public. Those were the biggest freaks. They didn’t talk about what they could do to a nigga
; t
hey
just
took a nigga to bed and fucked the taste out of his mouth. I could vibe with a bitch like that.

 

“Boss, I wanna be yo freak.” She put her lips on my chest and started to suck and lick my skin. “I’ll do anything you want me to do
, D
addy
-
and I do mean
anything
.

 

She reached down my pants and licked her lips as she pulled out my rock
-
hard dick. I could tell this bitch was a live one. She didn’t play games. My front door was still open
,
and she was down on her knees with a mouthful of dick
-
sucking like her life depended on it. Shorty didn’t give a fuck.

 

I let her suck me off for twenty minutes before I came in her mouth
; s
he liked to swallow
,
so I gave her ass something to drink. I fucked her mouth the same way I used to fuck her sister’s
; clearly, t
hose head
-
givin
g
skill
s
ran in the family. When she got through suckin
g
and slobbin
g,
I was drained. I almost didn’t have the energy to fuck her
, which meant s
he almost went to college without getting some of this Boss dick.

 

I woke up the next morning to the smell of pancakes, scrambled cheese eggs
,
and thick-cut maple bacon still sizzlin’ in the skillet.
Suddenly,
I had a case of
d
éjà
v
u like a muthafucka
; t
hat was the exact same breakfast
that
Gina used to make me.

 

I rolled out of bed, threw on a pair of boxers
,
and headed downstairs towards the kitchen. There
, I saw Mercedes
in all her glory
:
she
stood in front of the stainless steel stove that had never been used
before,
cooking breakfast for a nigga butt
-
ass naked.

 

“You are by far my favorite chef
,
” I joked, never taking my eyes off her ass for a second.

 

“Good
morning, Boss.pan>mornBoss.p She turned around and smiled at a nigga like last night she got the best dick
-
down of her life. “How many pancakes you want?”

 

I couldn’t even concentrate on her question
;
I was too
busy
concentrating on her titties and hairless pussy. There was no way she was leavin
g
without gettin
g
fucked again
; m
y dick wasn’t lettin
g
it
go
down like that.

 

“You betta turn that off.”

 

“Why?”
s
he asked in a very playful manner, her eyes damn near burning a hole thro
ugh
my boxer shorts.

 

“Cause I’m

bout to fuck the shit outta you.”

 

“Uhm
...
I like the sound of that.” She turned around quickly and cut of
f
the burner, giving me a good view of her bare ass.

 

I walked up behind her and took one of her large breasts in each of my hands. She backed it up on me
,
press
ing
her
soft ass up against my hard dick. We had each other goin
g
. I ran my right hand down her smooth
,
flat stomach until my fingers found what they were looking for. I
then
played with her pussy for about thirty seconds before she came
; t
hat was Gina’s spot
,
t
o
o.

 

I bent her over right there in my kitchen and shoved my dick inside her
; s
he liked it rough
,
and I liked giving it to her that way. Her ass jiggled like Jello with every thrust. I was going to give her something to sit up at night and gossip about with her girlfriends at St. Louis U.

 

We went on like that for damn near two hours. I kept busting off inside her
,
and she would just suck my dick off and get me right back on hard again. Her sex game was on point.

 

I never did get to eat those pancakes
, and
I
also
never saw Mercedes again after our night together. She called a few times
,
but I dodged her. She had her story
, but
I didn’t have shit else for her. A few months later
,
she moved into the dorm
-
and I moved on to Kim.

 

 

Chapter 18

 

Kim Jones was a twenty-three
-
year
-
old hair stylist with two kids and a husband at home. At that point
in my life,
I was in self-destruct mode
- and
Kim was
just
the right bitch to destruct with
; s
he was wild, crazy
,
and down for whatever. I passed my free time with her mostly fucking and drinking. She didn’t get high
,
but she could drink any nigga under the table on any given day. Grey Goose was her poison
, and s
he drpan>
, and t
he more she drank
,
the freakier she got. Kim fucked like a porn star and sucked dick like a
G
rade
-
A certified head doctor. I loved gettin’ head more than almost any nigga on the face of th
e
earth. I didn’t really give a damn if a bitch could fuck or not
-
just as long as she could suck a mean dick.

 

Around this time
,
I started drinkin
g
a lot more than usual
; basically, i
f I was awake
,
I was drunk. Gettin
g
through the day became a challenge
, and g
etting through the night was damn near impossible. Even my nigga Pee-Wee couldn’t get through to me
, but t
hat didn’t stop him from tryin
g
. I just didn’t give a fuck anymore. Why care? I didn’t see the point. Every single person I let inside either left or betrayed me.

 

My cousin was the only person I trusted. Pee-Wee was my lifeline. He kept my business runnin
g
when I was too drunk to run it myself
, and m
y workers never had the slightest clue anything was wrong. The money was never short
; m
y cousin made sure of that.

 

It was Friday night
,
which meant everybody in the hood was headin
g
to
t
he Two One to get fucked up
; f
or me
, though,
it was just like the other six nights of the week. I
stayed
fucked up. If I didn’t
,
the memories would eat my ass alive. Rememberin
g
all the freak hoes I fucked throughout the years was one thing, but rememberin
g
the ones that left their footprints on my life was another. Jazz was the worst
; e
very time I pictured her on that floor in a pool of her own blood with her panties down around her ankles
,
I reached for another shot. I didn’t commit the crime myself, but I might as well have given that backstabbin
g-
ass nigga Ren the code to the alarm. Who needed a judge and jury? I found myself guilty
,
then proceeded to punish myself with the only sentence I saw fit
: l
ife.

 

Five hours of drinkin
g
and smokin
g
were startin
g
to take their toll on me. Pee-Wee was busy with some thick
-
ass white chick at the time
,
so I made another stupid ass decision and
OK
’d myself to drive. I stumbled all the way to my truck
, and b
y the time I got behind the wheel I was worn out. I couldn’t drive
, and
I also couldn’t remember the number of any cab companies. All of
a
sudden
,
a strange feeling came over me
; i
t was the same one I got when Gina set me up to get robbed by them cats from New York.
My i
nstinct kicked in
; s
omething didn't feel right
, so
I reached in my glove box and grabbed my 9mm.

 

“Surprise!” Kim popped up in my backseat
-
and almost got herself shot in the process.

 

“Bitch, what the fuck is wrong with you?!” I roared at her like a furious lion. “You almost got yo dumb ass kil
led
.”

 

“I’m sorry, Boss. I just wanted to surprise you. I missed you. You ain’t been returnin’ my calls. I can’t stop thinkin’

bout you
,
baby. Please don't be mad
...
?”
s
he purred
as she
introduc
ed
her soft, warm tongue to my earlobe.

 

“Uhm
...
” I couldn’t help but moan
,

d
on’t let th
at
shit happen again.”

 

That bitch knew how to persuade a nigga. Her tongue was all over my neck in seconds
, and
I just sat back and enjoyed the sensation
; h
er lick was deadly.

 
BOOK: Boss Bitch Swag
2.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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