wondering why I overslept, it’s because I was up ’til three a.m. waiting for your ass to come home. And maybe had you come in at a reasonable hour you could have gotten some ass !”
“Yeah, right.” Quentin laughed, rising up from the bed revealing his beautiful six-four nude body with skin the same color of the richest dark chocolate. His curly brownish-black hair wildly tousled upon his head from his sleep. He walked toward Ricky. She stood in their huge walk-in closet, which was the size of most people’s bedroom. His large brown dick was rock hard and pointed right at her. “I sat in this fucking house until ten o’clock waiting for you. But I guess you forgot that we were supposed to go to the movies, ’cause you were too busy hanging with your author friends.” Slipping on a pair of Carolina basketball shorts, he walked out of the closet and into their bathroom.
Ricky followed closely behind, getting right in his ear, “Hell no! Don’t you even try to flip this shit on me? We both have careers that keep us away from home. But when we’re both here at the same time, you always find time to run the damn streets with your niggas rather than spend quality time with me.”
Standing over the toilet, Quentin sighed as he began to urinate, one hand on his hip, the other holding dick. Staring at the ceiling he responded, “Oh God, you back on your shit again.”
“What the fuck does that suppose to mean?”
“You always on the go; then, when you stop you think that the whole damn world is supposed to stop for you. And let me not forget that it’s always my fault.”
“I do not think that. What I do think is that when our schedule does permit us to be in the same city at the same time, my husband should have the fuckin’ common courtesy to spend time with his wife.” Ricky turned to walk back into the bedroom, but stopped. Turning back to Quentin, she said, “By the way, when I’m running across the globe, I’m earning money and throwing bricks at a dream that I thought we were building together.”
“That still don’t have shit to do with me getting my dick taken care of. That’s cool, though, ‘cause ain’t shit you can say when I get someone else to take of it.”
He didn’t go there . . . I know he did not just go there, Ricky thought before blowing up at him. “Go get you another bitch to take care of that dick. I hope she suck it better than I do. And I hope she can deal with all the bullshit baggage that comes with being in a relationship with you.”
“What bullshit baggage?”
“All the shit I had to go through with you in the beginning. Where do you want me to begin? Let’s see, I could start with your other bitch calling me all day and night. Or I could start with all those days you left me alone while you were on the come up. Yeah, what about all those days? You weren’t worried about if I was satisfied sexually, were you? And I never once threatened to go out and get someone else. But what if . . . what if I told you I did have someone to satisfy me all those lonely nights and how he made me cum back to back?”
Suddenly Ricky found Quentin’s hand wrapped around her neck and shoving her out of the bathroom and into the closet. She had gone too far and now was terrified of the outcome. Quentin had never laid a hand on her before. Still holding Ricky by her neck, he leaned over talking through clenched teeth, “What are you telling me, Raquel? Are you telling me that you was fucking another nigga behind my back?”
With her heart pounding like a small child jumping on her chest, Ricky answered, “I would never cheat on you. I just said what if so you’d know just how it feels to imagine your spouse fucking someone else. Now could you please remove your hand from my neck?”
Slowly Quentin removed his hand from her neck, then he slammed it against the wall right next to her head. Ricky slid down the wall with tears pouring from her eyes. She wrapped her arms around her knees
“Yeah, right.” Quentin laughed, rising up from the bed revealing his beautiful six-four nude body with skin the same color of the richest dark chocolate. His curly brownish-black hair wildly tousled upon his head from his sleep. He walked toward Ricky. She stood in their huge walk-in closet, which was the size of most people’s bedroom. His large brown dick was rock hard and pointed right at her. “I sat in this fucking house until ten o’clock waiting for you. But I guess you forgot that we were supposed to go to the movies, ’cause you were too busy hanging with your author friends.” Slipping on a pair of Carolina basketball shorts, he walked out of the closet and into their bathroom.
Ricky followed closely behind, getting right in his ear, “Hell no! Don’t you even try to flip this shit on me? We both have careers that keep us away from home. But when we’re both here at the same time, you always find time to run the damn streets with your niggas rather than spend quality time with me.”
Standing over the toilet, Quentin sighed as he began to urinate, one hand on his hip, the other holding dick. Staring at the ceiling he responded, “Oh God, you back on your shit again.”
“What the fuck does that suppose to mean?”
“You always on the go; then, when you stop you think that the whole damn world is supposed to stop for you. And let me not forget that it’s always my fault.”
“I do not think that. What I do think is that when our schedule does permit us to be in the same city at the same time, my husband should have the fuckin’ common courtesy to spend time with his wife.” Ricky turned to walk back into the bedroom, but stopped. Turning back to Quentin, she said, “By the way, when I’m running across the globe, I’m earning money and throwing bricks at a dream that I thought we were building together.”
“That still don’t have shit to do with me getting my dick taken care of. That’s cool, though, ‘cause ain’t shit you can say when I get someone else to take of it.”
He didn’t go there . . . I know he did not just go there, Ricky thought before blowing up at him. “Go get you another bitch to take care of that dick. I hope she suck it better than I do. And I hope she can deal with all the bullshit baggage that comes with being in a relationship with you.”
“What bullshit baggage?”
“All the shit I had to go through with you in the beginning. Where do you want me to begin? Let’s see, I could start with your other bitch calling me all day and night. Or I could start with all those days you left me alone while you were on the come up. Yeah, what about all those days? You weren’t worried about if I was satisfied sexually, were you? And I never once threatened to go out and get someone else. But what if . . . what if I told you I did have someone to satisfy me all those lonely nights and how he made me cum back to back?”
Suddenly Ricky found Quentin’s hand wrapped around her neck and shoving her out of the bathroom and into the closet. She had gone too far and now was terrified of the outcome. Quentin had never laid a hand on her before. Still holding Ricky by her neck, he leaned over talking through clenched teeth, “What are you telling me, Raquel? Are you telling me that you was fucking another nigga behind my back?”
With her heart pounding like a small child jumping on her chest, Ricky answered, “I would never cheat on you. I just said what if so you’d know just how it feels to imagine your spouse fucking someone else. Now could you please remove your hand from my neck?”
Slowly Quentin removed his hand from her neck, then he slammed it against the wall right next to her head. Ricky slid down the wall with tears pouring from her eyes. She wrapped her arms around her knees
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