#<--- something in my negro soul told me to tag that

[yoori-ya]

Vs flight was delayed and since the hotel reservation was under her name, I was stuck in limbo for another few hours. I decided to spend my time in hotel purgatory at the bar. The bartender handed me the drink menu and my gaze flitted over names like “Miami Vice” and “Sunrise in Cabo.”

I was already starting to get a good idea of what sort of place this would be.

“Can I get a mezcal and tonic water with lime please?”

The pretty mother-daughter duo a few chairs over from me were getting sloshed on some margaritas. There was another couple directly beside me who looked to be my grandparents age—either deep into their eighties or maybe the shallow nineties—slamming slushed pina coladas. Live it up, I thought to myself while smiling. Someone ordered the Miami Vice, a mugful of what looked like a giant 7-Eleven slurpee. It caught the attention of the mother and daughter, who ordered a round of it even before they’d gotten to the bottom of their margaritas. Eventually they stumbled away giggling to play a round of ping pong at the nearby table.

The bartenders name tag read “Alejandro,” a beautiful name with gently rolling vowels, but the regulars called him Alex, axing it off with the x, probably because it was easier.

It was dark when V finally made it. She joined me at the bar, ordering for herself mezcal with coke after looking at the menu. Alejandro told us that around these parts, a tequila coke would be called a “Charro Negro.”

“What’s a charro?” I asked.

“Ah, it’s like in these parts, a very nice clothing that men wear.”

“Like a gentleman?”

“No, no. More like something like a mariachi would wear. There is this beautiful vest they put on, and they carry around these guns,” he said, motioning as if he were putting away a pair of pistols in holsters by his hips.

“Oh! Like a cowboy?” I asked.

“Yes! Cowboy.”

“A vaquero,” I said this time with a grin, surprising myself with how much Spanish still lay dormant within me.

“Yes! Exactly. A vaquero.”

V and I spent the rest of the evening catching up. There was supposed to be a live band that evening, which just turned out to be a single dude with an electric guitar sitting on the stool and crooning into the mic. A couple from Oregon had pulled up to take up seat where the mother-daughter duo had been a few hours before. They were red-faced and drunk. The wife asked Alex to dance for her. The husband handed Alex some bills as tip, then tossed another few bills on the counter for him to pick up. The conversion between v and I ebbed and flowed like the natural pull of the tides. In the moments of silence, we’d let the electric guitar wash over us, and I’d watch the stray cats slink out of the shadows and roam about like wayward souls.

[embraceyourmelanin]

@ all y'all who think "we're all black to white folks" and try to dismiss colorism because of that Wrong belief

... Then why the fuck they separate us during slavery? Why were enslaved people with dark skin out in the field and enslaved people with light skin in the house?? If they really can't see different shades of black how could they do that???

[signorformica]

Ladies and gentlemen! Bibliothèque Infernale is proud to present —again!—under the big top tonight!:

*THE BIBULOUS BABY*

Another bizarre, freakish short story by the Master of the Grotesque — TOD ROBBINS!

***

“THE STRANGEST event in my life happened last summer," said my traveling companion. "I have only ventured to tell this story to my wife and brother. It is so unique and apparently so beyond human belief that if I published it broadcast I would be looked upon by the world as an impostor of the first water."

"And did your wife and brother believe you?" I asked.

"Well, not exactly. Yes and no. They believed that I thought I was telling the truth. The one imagined that the tale sprang from the effects of strong drink; the other blamed the strength of the summer sun. But I assure you it was neither. I had had a few glasses of absinth, certainly; but I have been accustomed to this drink since childhood. The sun, indeed, was very hot; but it was as nothing compared to the heat I have experienced in the tropics."

"The story, doctor?", I ventured.

"Ah," said he, "you will laugh; but nevertheless I will give it to you. Mirth is the reward one gets from the world when one gives something new to it. People laugh entirely too much, and smile only with their lips. Look into a man's eyes — they alone are the true mirrors of emotion.

"On the fifteenth of last August I was living at a seaside resort not far from the city. It was the warmest day of the summer, and the people had taken to the water. Sitting on the veranda of the hotel with a glass of absinth on the arm of my chair, I could see the blue expanse of ocean stretching out from the beach like a velvet rug lying on a floor of whitest marble.

“Not a breath of air ruffled that placid surface; not a wrinkle of thought rested on the calm forehead of the sea. And above it the sun hung stationary in the heavens, resembling an open porthole of a burning ship seen through the blue haze of evening.

"On the beach, men and women were running about, caricaturing by their grotesque, awkward movements the play of children, as grown people do when they attempt to cheat could be seen bobbing up and down like pieces of cork, and it seemed strange that these little globes should be moving about, guided by the brains that they contained; and stranger still that, if one should suddenly sink out of sight for several moments, a great excitement would turn these shouts of laughter into screams, these movements of animal joy into gesticulations of horror.

"Sitting all alone on that hotel veranda, I continued to sip my absinth and to meditate on the scene before me. Suddenly I saw a very pretty young girl approaching, pushing a baby carriage before her. The child was evidently sleeping and was concealed under a canopy of mosquito netting; the girl looked longingly out to sea, while two lines of irritation furrowed her forehead.

"Acting on a sudden impulse, I spoke to her: 'You'll pardon me, but couldn't I be of some assistance? I see that you like bathing, and it's quite a wonderful day for it. I could take care of the baby while you have a plunge.'

"She hesitated and again looked out to sea. 'I'm very much obliged,' she began, 'but mother told me to take care of — at this she hesitated, and I thought I saw her face darken — 'of my little brother,' she finished.

"'But I could take care of him for a time. He won't be any trouble. He's fast asleep.'

"'Yes, he is asleep,' she said, lifting the mosquito netting and looking down at the little red face lying on the lace pillow. 'Thank you so much; I think I will go in bathing.' And, wheeling the baby carriage up beside me, she turned and hurried off toward the bath houses on the shore.

"Again my eyes returned to the bathers, and my hand lifted the glass of absinth to my lips. How black and tiny some of the heads looked far out on the water! Here, in this bathtub of the city, life was a precious thing; yet there was an abundance of it, a superfluity of it. I had been in thinly populated countries where it was not thought of so highly.

"'I beg your pardon, sir,' said a voice beside me which sounded like a key turning in a rusty lock, 'but I'm very thirsty and absinth is my favorite drink.'

"I turned about in surprise, and was thunderstruck to see that I was apparently still alone. No one stood back of my chair; no one was behind the pillar on my right, and no one crouched behind the baby carriage, as I had first suspected. But as I stared about me the voice again spoke in its strange, quavering tones.

"'Lift up the mosquito net over the carriage,' it said.'It's damnably hot in here!'

"Almost mechanically I did as I was told, and in a moment more was looking down into the little, red, wrinkled face of a baby. As I gazed at the shapeless nose, at the bald head and loose-lipped mouth, the eyes opened and looked up at me. What I felt then you can never imagine, my friend; I cannot describe it to you. I can only say that it was horrible — horrible past belief. I had expected the frightened, innocent stare of awakened childhood; in place of it I saw the vicious, knowing leer of wicked old age. With a cry of horror I reeled back and put my hands before my eyes.

" 'Well,' said the voice again, and now I knew that it, too, was old — as old as an echo in a haunted house; 'well, my young friend, do I get a taste of your absinth or not?’

"'What are you?' I cried as soon as I could speak.

"'Young man,' said the baby, squinting evilly at me over his blanket, 'I'm about the dryest child in the world. Do you know what I've been getting to drink lately? I've been getting milk — milk from a dirty, blue-nosed bottle! Everybody takes advantage of me be- cause I'm too old to kick up a disturbance. Why, my own grandchild — the one who was wheeling me just now — takes advantage of me. Family pride is all very well, but what is getting me is I've only got four more weeks to live, and I might as well be a live one till the very end.'

"'Just a moment,' said I, taking a long drink of absinth to steady my nerves. 'Now you can tell me every- thing. You may unburden yourself to me as though I were your father.'

"'Well,' he snarled. ’If I tell you the story, will you empty the milk out of my bottle and fill it up with absinth?'

"'Yes, readily,' I answered.

"'So I'm selling my family pride for a bottle of absinth,' said he. 'Well, no matter, here it goes. My grand- father owned a large plantation before the war. Like many another Southern gentleman of that time, he preferred the joys of the body to the joys of the spirit. Wine in plenty, women in plenty, tobacco in plenty — that was his idea of life. But there was one thing that worried my grandfather.'

""What was that?' I asked.

"'Old age,' said the baby solemnly. 'It was his one fear. And when it finally came — when gout laid hold of his feet and time pulled out his hair — he was a pitiful object to behold. Lying on his back, he cursed life and said that it started from the wrong end; that if men were born old and grew younger year by year, then they'd have something to live for, instead of cursing every day that came. And on the night when he died he sold his soul to the devil, or so my old negro nur.se used to say. On the following morning I was born.'

"'And how long ago was that, my little friend?' I asked.

"'Eighty-five years ago last December’, said the baby. 'Of course I can't remember as far back as that. My first recollection is of standing before the mirror while my mother combed out my long gray beard. Yes, I had a beard then; and they say it was snow white when I was born. But when I remember it first it was gray —a beautiful silver gray. That was a long time ago, and I wish I had one now.

"'And yet, even then I wasn't happy. I'd try to get the old men in the village interested in blindman's buff and tag; but they wouldn't play with me and I felt lonely. People began to talk when they saw me rolling my hoop in the street or playing marbles with the boys; so mother had to tell them that I was an uncle of hers in his second childhood, fearing that they might guess the truth. Sometimes the old men would beckon me into the tavern, buy me some absinth, and, when I had drunk it, send me home tottering on my feet.

"'And so time passed. Gradually I grew taller and stronger; the gray began to fade out of my beard in patches, and mother was now thought by strangers to be my sister. I no longer played marbles with the boys or rolled my hoop along tire pavement. No, now the girls whom I met on the street would make my heart beat all out of tune. But they never looked at me; or, if they did, they would say, "He is old enough to be our father," and pass by. But there was one who said, 'What young eyes he has!' I married that girl and settled down with the optimistic belief that nothing could shatter my happiness.

"'But the years went by, and each one that passed made me younger and my dear wife older. Finally we met on the tide of life, each drifting toward a separate goal. And we could not hold each other. We passed by swiftly, unable even to clasp hands. I must have suffered then, yet my hair lost all its gray; I was growing to be a comparatively young man. And I had children, and they soon grew older than I ; and they had children, and they grew older than I — till now all that is left me is a taste for absinth, the taste that I acquired when the old men used to send me home from the tavern in the days of my drunken, gray-haired childhood. How I used to cry when they wouldn't play marbles with me!

"'Ah, well, ah, well, now I'm eighty- five and a baby with the tastes of an old man. Yet they won't give me my absinth, and expect me to say nothing about myself because of family pride. It seems I am a monster — something to be hidden away in a perambulator. Ah, but the ladies give me privileges sometimes which they'd scarcely give if they knew my age! I have four more weeks of life. How do I know ? Why, the doctor of the hotel examined me this morning and said that I am just four weeks old. But give me your absinth, sir. Don't take advantage of me because I am old and helpless.'"

"And did you give him your absinth?" I asked.

"Yes," said my friend. "I filled his milk bottle with it. He was so weak that I had actually to put the nipple in his mouth. Then I went up to my room, leaving him sucking peacefully. Four weeks later I read his death no tice in the paper. Well, what do you think of that, sir?"

"I think it is quite remarkable," I answered.

*Tod Robbins: The Bibulous Baby. First published in The Thrill Book. July 1, 1919 • via Bibliothèque Infernale on FB

[goddessofthundathighs]

Iqiniso

Two updates in a day? You negros are SPECIAL! This series was created after blurbing with the lovely @hearteyes-for-killmonger (I really luh this girl, y’all!)

I’m sure how many chapters this will be yet, but let’s enjoy the ride!

Pairing: Redeemed!Erik/Dormant Killmonger x Black OC

Word Count:

Warning: Death of a favorite (Sorry, not sorry); language; D.I.D.

**Iqiniso is “truth” in Xhosa**

Hennessy had reached the end of the road. The last seven months with Ares had been an absolute nightmare. She was tired, broken, and angry. So much so that she couldn’t focus on the development of her latest strain. Erik noticed her distance, but chose to keep quiet, knowing that if she really needed him, she’d call.

She stood in front of the stove, drinking a glass of red wine and chopping veggies for dinner. Like clockwork she heard his Mustang GT’s roar come to a halt and his heavy boots pounding the pavement at exactly 9:00. It was a Friday night so she knew he wouldn’t be there long. He was meeting Kimora, the flirty little artist that he’d been sleeping with for the last few weeks. A lone tear trailed down her cheek before she brushed it away. He wasn’t worth her tears.

He came in the door and slammed it harshly, taking in the current state of his apartment. It was clean; too clean.

“Why you always touching shit that doesn’t belong to you?” He spat as he made his way into the kitchen. She ignored the question and continued cooking. She knew he was only starting a fight so he could have justification for leaving. Annoyed by her silence, Ares charged her from behind, grabbing a fistful of her curly mane and pulling her head back roughly.

“I asked you a question bitch!”

In an instant, a switch went off. Rational thinking was cut off and Kitana sprang from confinement. Her left arm swung back viciously, slicing through the flesh of his face with ease. A twisted smile crept across her face as he watched in horror. She wielded the knife again, this time slicing at his bicep. She laughed a devilish laugh as his screams permeated the space. She continued slicing and stabbing until his lifeless body stopped twitching on the floor.

“Nice work, Kitana,” she told herself, licking her now dead lover’s blood from the blade.

She stood in the mirror motionless, silently admiring the way the bright red liquid stained her bronze skin.

“Ready to come back?” she asked.

“Yes,” a meek voice responded.

With a steady palm she fished for her phone.

“Wassup Princess,” Erik’s voice called from the other end.

“Hey. I need you to come to Ares’ place. I did something bad.”

————————————————————————

In the weeks since testing her latest strain, Dr. Chiron had been a working fool. Her accidental truth serum had Erik and her other guinea pigs experiencing several different side effects, the most prominent being severe diarrhea of the mouth. Everyone was telling her everything, even says after they smoked and she needed desperately to modify its components so that it only worked in the moment.

“Damn Princess, you look like shit,” Erik noted as he crossed the threshold of her office. She’d once again fallen asleep surrounded by chemical equations and some other green matter that Erik couldn’t make up.

“C’mon, let’s get you home,” he stated, lifting her up bridal style from the chair.

“Noo E, I’ve gotta get this finished,” she pouted into his chest. She thrashed in his arms for all of 30 seconds before she allowed his huge frame to swallow her whole and lull her to sleep.

————————————————————————

A sharp knock on the door startled Hennessy from her studies. She’d finally modified Iqiniso so that the side effects were nonexistent and as a result, pharmaceutical companies were blowing her up left and right trying to get their hands on it.

“Keep studying Princess, I’ll get it,” Erik called from the couch. He saw red as soon as he opened the door.

“Killmonger,” the young woman replied smugly. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“That’s not my name anymore, Agent Spade,” he spat.

“Ooh, someone’s spicy. I miss that fire,” she replied, dragging a manicured nail down his torso.

“Whatchu want Asa?” he barked, clearly fed up with her antics.

“I’m looking for someone and I think you know where she is.”

Before she could finish her statement, Hennessy peeked her fluffy little head from behind Erik’s back. Asa’s eyes lit up like the Fourth of July.

“Dr. Chiron! Just the woman I was looking for.”

Erik and the good doctor stepped back and allowed Agent Spade to come in. She took in her surroundings before turning to speak directly to Hennessy.

“Dr. Chiron–“

“Please, call me Shy,” the young woman responded.

“Shy,” Agent Spade corrected. “My nephew Ares Green has been missing for several weeks and it’s come to my attention that you were the last one to see him alive.”

Henny’s body went rigid, but her face remained stoic. Erik was the only one to notice the change, silently praising her for picking up one of his behavior traits.

“Yes I did see him one night, but I haven’t spoken to him since. Our relationship was rocky and we decided to end it. I thought we could still remain friends, but he blocked my number and deleted me from his social media accounts. When I attempted to use my key to get into his apartment so that we could talk, I noticed that the locks had been changed, so I gave up.”

Erik’s dick twitched at the way Hennessy rattled off the tale. If he hadn’t helped her clean up the mess, even he would’ve thought it was the truth. He watched her interaction with the agent in awe. He had always heard about his love’s savage side, but never experienced it first hand. Deep within his psyche, Killmonger growled in approval. He loved seeing her like this, cold and calculated. His eyes darted between Hennessy and Agent Spade. He could tell that the agent was out of her element when dealing with the good doctor simply because Hennessy couldn’t be intimidated, she was a queen pin for crying out loud.

“Well if you find out anything, please give me a call,” Agent Spade replied, handing Erik one of her cards.

“Will do Spade,” Erik responded before closing the door in her face. He turned around to face his partner, eyes clouded with lust.

“You know you real sexy when you lie, Kitana,” he purred.

“Why thank you Killmonger,” she responded, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Looks like we’re gonna have to tread lightly for a bit, Princess,” he replied, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Erik knew the trouble that followed Agent Spade and the last thing he wanted was for Hennessy to be caught in the crossfire. He’d die before he let anything happen to her.

TAG LIST: @hearteyes-for-killmonger @thehomierobbstark @eriknutinthispoosy @amethyst1993 @bidibidibombaclaat @readmywrites @blackpantherismyish @allhailnjadaka @whatmoredoyouwantamericaa @dameshaemonique @forbeautyandlife @iamrheaspeaks @bartierbakarimobisson @thiccdaddy-mbaku @muse-of-mbaku @princessstevens @thadelightfulone @drsunshine97 @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @ayellepea @killmongersgurl @awkwardlyabstract @imagine-mbaku @vibranium-soul @wakanda-inspired @wawakanda-btch

[paniccord-ff]

31. Part 4

Staring out of the window, I have never felt so at peace in my life. I just need my daughter here with me and then everything will be fine, I miss her little stank ass a lot but I don’t have long left till I am back in LA, get to see my little trouble soon. Miami has been great, I am so glad Rylee bought me here, I didn’t even think of it. I was going to take Rylee away but after the tour which is next year, luckily my baby is coming with me. I need to contact Mark, I want to push my girl into being something so much better. She needs to be a model, I think I am going to get Mark to call her himself because if I say it then she will be like no, I did it for her. She is beautiful, she deserves to be walking those catwalks. I need to do a lot actually, I need a break already. I am already on a break but I need a longer one “I don’t know if it is a good thing that your bodybuilder baby mother is messaging me?” Rylee said as she walked into the living area “erm, what you mean?” I said all confused “well I mean she sent me when Royalty got her nails done but she sent me a video now, I then text her saying aww thank you. She messaged me back saying it’s ok, Roro adores you. I mean she is being too nice?” Nia is being too nice “I don’t trust her” I openly said, Rylee sat next to me staring at her phone.

I can’t help but touch Rylee’ legs “shouldn’t you be getting dressed? We finna be late” she is sat here with a towel around her body “unless we fucking again?” Rylee smiled putting her hand up “well, I have another surprise for you” my eyes widened “oh really? Tell me more?” I said intrigued to know “so I know I just called Nia a bodybuilder but, she came through” Rylee grinned at me “so you know you will be overseas, I mean we both will be. I convinced her to let us take Royalty with us for a few weeks” my mouth fell open “no way! She would never” I spat in shock “she said she don’t mind it, she knows that her daughter will be in good hands but why didn’t she let you do this before? But surprise baby, you get to have Roro. She said seeing as you will be her future step mom and all that” I don’t know if to be angry or happy “I mean thank you babe, that is awesome news but she never trusted my mom. She thinks my mom lets Royalty be on a tour bus full of weed. I think Nia knows you won’t allow it, I feel a little emotional you know” Rylee cooed “just I thought I would never get this, to do this” rubbing my eyes “you deserve a blessing, so your tour is about to be so much fun” nodding my head, shifting in the couch. Laying my head on Rylee’ thighs “not now baby, I do need to get ready. Just know, I always got your best interest in mind baby. Always thinking to make things good for you” she touched my head, I am choked up by this.

I don’t know why I am feeling emotional, I need to suck this shit up now “why are you sniffling, are you crying” Rylee’ hand touched my forehead “talk to me baby, what is wrong?” flicking the tear away “I just feel sad as fuck” moving my head off Rylee’ thighs “why? I am here” I feel so stupid “just I could have lost you, I could have lost everything. I just think back to how I was without you, how Royalty barely loved me. I just feel bad for not loving her like I did and how I treated girls, when I found out I had a daughter I was so angry like why it had to be a girl. My mom snapped at me and said god got you back for acting the way you do, she’s precious. I never saw that but I do now, girls are precious as fuck and I just feel like I fucked up so much. I never could be bothered with court, it was all for show because deep down I cried to know she was a girl. To know I fucked a hoe and gave birth to a girl, she would just end up like her. It seems crazy that a girl that came into my life showed me this. Showed me the light, if I wanted to be a dick and not spoke to you that day I would have lost my soul mate. No other girl has ever cared for me the way you do, pure heart, pure love. Makes me cry to feel it” Rylee placed her hand on my shoulder “you have not failed or fucked up, Royalty is young. She doesn’t know anything yet, you changed it” looking at Rylee sitting back on the couch “because of you” I retorted “and? Does it matter, don’t feel bad for that. You love her now, and you hung around with the wrong crowd. You attracted trashy girls and I honestly didn’t want to be one but I went with the flow, love bought me here. Outside looking in Chris, you were a dick and I didn’t want to touch it but I am glad I did. Stop thinking so shit of yourself, you are a great father, husband, son. You have a beautiful heart, you just needed some guiding and I am always going to do you right” Rylee wrapped her arms around my head “you going to stop thinking shit about yourself?” I shrugged “you being stupid then because you overthinking” maybe I am, but shit makes me think how shit I was as a person that Nia didn’t even want me to have Roro alone.

Because of Rylee’ lateness we have a slight delay on boarding the jet, this is not good because I have a concert in Cleveland today. Stood with my hands in my pockets, I feel a little better but Rylee is right. I am just overthinking and need to look to the future, I have had an awesome time in Miami so let me stop “Tall Latte for Breezy” the barista said, smiling at her taking the Latte from her “oh shit” she said in shock, smiling at her as I walked away “no pictures, sorry” Joe said, Rylee looks so boujee with her shades on and pink slides, she got her Tom Ford bag close, she doesn’t let go of that bag “here” placing the Latte down on the table “can I have my change” she held her hand out, chuckling at her and digging into my pocket “I hope you bought Joe something” she said, Joe sat down and placed the bottle of water down. Placing the change on the table “you been legit about this paying thing” laughing at her taking her change “well, this was on me babe. Not every time I can spoil you, did you have a good time?” she asked “yeah, it was perfect. It’s really made me love you even more, I don’t know if that is possible to love someone more than I do? I think I might be crazy in love now” Rylee waved me off “stop it” I am feeling so clingy to Rylee now.

I should have got myself some water, I am actually thirsty “I need to get some clothes, what am I going to wear?” Rylee placed her Latte down “I can get your clothes out here or you can wait for about a week and a half and we in LA? You can wear my things? We can go straight up to LA and pick your stuff and ring up? We can go New Jersey and get things from your parents, decide baby and I will make it happen” Rylee smiled at me “I will wait, I will make it happen somehow. Thank you though, you know Chris. For Christmas, do you have Royalty on the day?” I paused thinking “erm on Christmas eve I do, why?” I keep forgetting that Christmas is coming up “what are you doing for it? I do want to go New Jersey as my family are coming together for this” I don’t want Rylee to go “but I only have like five days off before I go overseas, why can’t your family come to LA? I don’t know, I would love to have you with me Rylee” Rylee cooed at me “don’t give me that face, I just need to figure it out. You have to share me babe” shaking my head “stop it now, you know you do. We will spend the day together” shaking my head still “staying with me” I said as Joe chuckled at me “let her her go Negro” hitting his shoulder “leave my baby boy alone” Rylee spoke up.

I shouldn’t be surprised but then again I am because we have been hanging around in this airport for far too long, they was bound to find out we was here. Tightening my grip on Rylee’ hand as the paparazzi came at us, there is so many here and I don’t know why there is so many “Breezy, did you have a good time away?” I don’t think Joe is about to handle this on his own at all “where your girl engagement ring at? Rylee, you both about to split” seeing the guy is from TMZ, I hate them so much “Chris, we all heard the Instagram live. Did you both do a sex tape?” I couldn’t help but smile “then why you think we splitting? Dumbass” I couldn’t help it, Joe pushed him away “people said you were crying, is this right?” shaking my head “your mom made me cry nigga, fuck you” we finally made through security to get checked in “you seem really upset about this!” he shouted, I guess that is the main thing everyone will be speaking about now.

Rylee needs to not touch my crotch with her feet, she always does it “I swear you said you was sore but you are doing this?” she shrugged with a smile on her face “I like feeling your bulge though, because your dick is soft and just resting. You have a big dick and it just feels nice to touch” grabbing her foot “stop it” stretching her leg out “you can rest your feet but not rubbing my dick like that” my phone started ringing at the side of me “he is predictable” my manager calling like he does to chase me down on where I am at, answering the call “before you say anything or complain I am on the jet” I said before he said anything “I am glad to hear, no more crying though?” disconnecting the call, this is so annoying “why do people keep saying I was crying! I was just moaning, fuck my life” I am about to snap, Rylee giggled “come to think of it, you were going off on that moaning. You are my bitch, I did listen and I got turned on again by it” I don’t need Rylee laughing at me, pointing my camera at her. She put a middle finger up at me “I don’t have any make up on so don’t” posting the picture on Instagram, tagging Rylee in the picture ‘Stank’ pressing send.

“I think you need to look at your comments” Rylee said with a smirk, looking at my lock screen “this stank made you cry, wow Rylee!, wow. You’re the last person to be saying that” crossing my arms pouting “but I told you not too, I actually don’t look that bad” this is not fair that everyone is saying I cried “you really don’t like it? Christopher, stop it. You had the time of your life and you were just so overwhelmed with emotions, I am sorry” looking out of the jet window, I don’t wish to speak to her “Chrissy baby, oh baby. Please look at me” Rylee moved her feet away from my lap “baby daddy, talk to me” feeling Rylee sit on my lap “beautiful, look at me” not even moving my eyes away from the jet window “Christopher!” Rylee wrapped her arms around my head “talk to me” feeling Rylee lick my cheek “talk to me!” she moved her face so she got in my eye-view “Christopher Maurice Brown, talk to me” she started kissing my lips “if you love me you will speak to me” side eyeing Rylee, looking at her in annoyance “you take it back?” I said “yes daddy” I couldn’t help but smile “you lucky I love you and we on this jet, I would have pinned you to the bed and fucked you from behind” Rylee bit her bottom lip and moaned out “I’m wet” she said against my lips “don’t tempt me” kissing her lips “but no, we about to land soon” Rylee hugged me close “I love you noodle arms” smiling wide “I love you too shawty” holding Rylee close.