Chapter Six
Breon was awakened in the middle of the night by what sounded like someone walking around the apartment. He checked the security footage on his I-Phone, and sure enough a petite figure clad in all black went into his son’s bedroom, stayed for a few minutes then went into the bathroom across the hall. Breon heard the front door close before he had time to access what the mysterious figure that he quickly discerned from the way that she walked was Takeisha, had done in the bathroom. What in the hell was going on?
Breon got out of bed. He did not feel the need to get his Glock, armed only with only his cellphone, Breon went to his son’s bedroom where little BJ was still sleeping. Whatever Takeisha had leaned over and whispered into his ear before kissing him on the cheek had not caused him to stir.
Ironically, she had left the light on in the bathroom, something she was forever fussing at him and BJ about doing. Breon’s heart fluttered when he saw the single word written in the brightest shade of red lipstick on the bathroom mirror in all capital letters. IMPOSTER!
His knees weakened. Thank God he was near the toilet. Breon hadn’t vomited since he was 16 and he and his friend Myles broke into their foster parents’ liquor cabinet. The two-day hangover had been worse than the first beating and verbal berating they both received.
Steadying his footing, Breon returned to his bedroom. He frantically searched for his phone before coming to the realization that he had been holding it the entire time. Damn! Damn! Goddamn!
It was around 5:AM, an hour before he needed to get BJ up and ready for them to get on the road. A call needed to be made before then. Thankfully, the very person he needed to talk to made it a habit of being awake before dawn.
“Breon.” His baritone voice answered after the second ring.
“Something is very wrong, Unc.” Said Breon on the verge of a full-on meltdown.
“At my Favorite’s funeral repass, I heard your Mammy mention something about your bitch being missing. She clearly didn’t give a shit, but I knew it would be a matter of time before you called me,”
“She knows.”
“Who knows and what does she know?”
“Takeisha…knows that I am not ___”
“How the fuck?” He interrupted.
“I don’t know.”
“Did she confront you; I thought the bitch was missing.”
“No, she snuck into the house. She wrote the word imposter on the bathroom mirror, then she left back out. I saw it on the security footage”
“Oh Goddamn, can I ever have one fucken moment’s peace.”
“Hey, I did not ask for any of this.” Challenged Breon
“But your scraggle tag, throw away ass has benefited from it quite nicely! Look, I am sorry. That was quite unnecessary.”
“Quite”
“I am frustrated. The person that I have been in love with for twenty years, my Favorite, is now dead and gone.”
“I am so sorry. The last thing I would want to do to you of all people, Unc, is upset you further, but I thought you needed to know because this will affect you and yours a whole lot more than it will affect me. Y’all are the roots and branches of this entire poison tree.”
Silence
“Unc?”
“I am thinking. That surveillance footage needs to be destroyed text me all of your information, I need to hack in and delete it from the company’s drive.”
“Yessir.”
“Drive safely but get your ass to Queensboro NC as soon as possible. Drop the child off at Fendi’s then come and meet me at our usual meeting spot, so that we can figure shit out from there.”
“Yessir, Unc.”
“Also, send me Takeisha’s cellphone and social media passwords if you have them. I need to get a location on this bitch so that I can follow her.”
“You won’t hurt her; she’s carrying my child!”
“Mother fucker, that ship has sailed. She is a liability; fuck her and that baby! Now, if your ass wants to become a liability too, I can have you taken care of before 8:00 am.”
“I am good.” Sighed Breon
“Your actions will determine whether or not you stay that way.” He warned before hanging up.
“Baby you look haggard.” Said Fendi tightly hugging Breon “Out here running yourself low with worry and missed your first cousin’s funeral over some trifling cum dumpster.”
“Mama please don’t talk like that in front of BJ.”
“Baby go to your room, grown folks are talking.” Fendi instructed BJ “I don’t mean no harm,” she continued once he was out of the room “But a woman is sorry as hell to go off and leave her child. I raised you all by myself, never did I just take off, and you didn’t know where I was and whether or not I was coming back. And if that nut monster does come back, you will be a Goddamn fool if you run up in her raw, and your ass damn better not sign a birth certificate before there has been a DNA test.”
“Mama, Please!” yelled Breon massaging his throbbing temples. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. There is just a lot going on.”
In the fall of 2019, Montez Caraway was broke, homeless, and selling his body in order to cover the cost of food and his weekly stay at the local motel. A year since aging out of the foster system and he already had a felony conviction on his record, having served six months for punching a Walmart employee in the face for trying to stop him from stealing a fucken box of pizza rolls.
Montez was out on his scroll when he met the man who would not only change his life but give him a new identity.
“How much?” asked the extraordinarily handsome older man.
Montez was completely enamored by the specimen before him; he was light brown, bald with a perfectly trimmed beard that had a slight hint of grey. His body was an impressive complement to the expertly tailored suit he wore. His smell was an intoxicating mix of cherry cigar smoke, bay rum soap, and some high-end floral musk. Montez was so smitten by the man’s appearance that he gave the most ridiculous answer.
“I’ll take whatever you give me, Sir.”
“Oh, so I can fuck you for a penny?”
“No, Sir, I um… $100. I got a room at the Red Roof.”
“I wouldn’t be caught dead in no Goddamn motel.” The stranger looked thoroughly insulted. “God, there is so much work to do.” He muttered.
“Sir?”
“My Lexus is over here. I am going to take you to an expensive hotel, fuck the ever-loving hell out of your young stupid ass, then I am going to upgrade your life.”
All three things sounded better to Montez than anything he had experienced in the past year. Montez’s first time ever riding in a Lexus was indeed life changing.
Montez lay in the most comfortable bed his body had ever experienced and stared in awe at the sprawling luxury hotel room. It was damn near the size of an apartment. The rug, the furniture, and the bedding were all pristine clean, a stark contrast from the over-priced, pissy-smelling motel room where he sold his body in order to stay from week to week.
The older man was in the shower. So far, he had kept his promise: Montez was in a luxury hotel room, and he had indeed fucked the ever-loving hell out of Montez. Two Hours. Montez was both amazed and impressed by the older man’s stamina and extremely athletic approach to sex. Montez could have easily stolen the man’s wallet and jewelry and ghosted him, but he decided that it would be to his benefit to see if the man kept the third part of his promise, besides, something told Montez that this man was not anyone that he should try and fuck over.
He came out of the bathroom wearing only a pair of burgundy Fenty Beauty Boxer briefs. The thick cock that had stretched Montez’s asshole for nearly two hours, now stretched the burgundy silk and lycra blend of the briefs.
“I know your Daddy.” He said sitting on the foot of the bed casually applying lotion to his well-defined legs and beautifully pedicured feet. “We are actually good friends me and Amad. He’s a damn good domino player.”
“You know my Dad; has he ever talked about me?”
“He doesn’t give a shit about you or your brother.”
“I have a brother…wait... what?”
“You know even though I turned your ass in every direction while I was fucking you, I never noticed something; do you have any tattoos?”
“No, Sir.”
“Good, neither did your brother. Let me ask you something, where do you see your life five years from now, especially with a felony record, no formal education, and no legit earning potential?”
“I do not know, Sir.” Montez was taken aback. He had never even contemplated those important life questions.
“Hmmm. I am so glad my Son and my Favorite are nothing like you. My son is in his early twenties and owns his own business. My favorite is in his mid-thirties, has a college degree from NC A&T, and is a licensed architect who owns and operates a successful construction company. Your brother was well on his way to becoming something great in spite of not having his father or even a strong, confident male role model like me in his life. He made one fuck up, by getting a fast ass girl pregnant before he finished high school, but he was dead set on finishing his education and making something of himself.”
“You keep speaking of my brother in the past tense. Did he pass away?”
“You know, you could have the life that your brother Breon was going to have. It is ten times better than the one you are currently building for yourself. Montez Caraway ain’t shit, you could drop off the face of the earth, and no one would know, much less give a shit.”
As crude as the man’s words regarding Montez’s life had been, Montez could not detect a single untruth in them.
“A lot of people would benefit from you being Breon D’Wade Caraway, but you would benefit most of all.”
Montez looked into the man’s eyes to see if he was being serious. All of his life Montez had secretly wished that he could close his eyes and wake up as someone with a better life. Was this candid, egocentric, aesthetically pleasing, older man his real -life dream merchant?
From October of 2019 to that faithful Saturday in June of 2020, Montez Caraway undertook the brutal task of transforming, or as the man he now knew as Unc referred to it, upgrading himself into Breon D’Wade Caraway.
Unc set Montez up in a small condominium where multiple times a week he was drilled on everything Breon.
Montez was a quick and eager learner. Through videos of family gatherings provided to him by Unc, Montez learned all of Breon’s mannerism. Montez adjusted his own personal food likes to match Breon’s: Breon hated mayonnaise, hot chips, and ramen noodle, so Montez developed a dislike for them. He learned the names of every aunt, uncle, and cousin that were near and dear to Breon. Breon held a close bond with four of his male cousins; Cooley, Chris, Jabari, and Quamie. Though Unc had never said so, Montez had come to suspect that the four of them had a hand in whatever happened to Breon. Takeisha, Breon’s baby mama and Fendi, his mother shared the same sentiment. Takeisha’s accusations were blatantly stated on Instagram. Had she not been loud and rachet as hell and had more than a few hundred followers, she might have been taken seriously.
By the time that Saturday in June of 2020 rolled around, Montez Caraway was no more. Thanks to months of intense study and training, he was Breon D’Wade Caraway returning home with his heart in his hand ready to apologize to his mother and the mother of his child for getting over-whelmed and choosing to leave town rather than face his responsibilities like a man.
The Uber Driver had already pulled off when Breon noticed that he had been dropped off on Mockingbird Lane not Nightengale as Unc had instructed the driver. He knew he could not call nor text Unc for directions. Unc was already at the party that Breon was supposed to show up to. Damn!
Breon typed the address into Google Maps. Thankfully, he was only a block and a half away from Chris’s house.
“Breon!” the near soprano voice pierced his ear just as he rounded the corner onto Nightengale Lane. The little boy was screaming and running towards him. “It’s my cousin, Breon!” he called to the confused looking group of little boys he had been playing football with.
“Breon; where have you been?” asked the overly excited child tightly embracing Breon. “Everybody has been wondering where you were. We are having a birthday party for Cousin Jayson.”
The boy, who Breon remembered was named Premiere, was literally pulling Breon by his arm while talking non-stop. Breon doubted if Premier was even aware that he had not uttered a word. The closer they got to the house the louder the music and stronger the smell of meat cooking over charcoal became.
Breon’s heart was in his throat. He had prepared for this moment for eight months, but it was finally about to happen.
“Look everybody, It’s cousin Breon!” shouted Premiere
Chris dropped an entire pan of sausages in his rush to usher his excited son away from him. Chaos began to unfold. Jabari fainted as Breon was bombarded with questions that he was too nervous to open his mouth and answer. Watching it all, cool as a cucumber sitting at a picnic table filing his fingernails was Unc. When it had become clear to him that Breon had forgotten what he had been instructed to say, Unc screamed over the madness, “Goddamnit! Somebody call Fendi, tell her to get over here really quick!”
It had been three years since Breon had been in Unc’s man cave. Breon could have used a shot of Cognac from the crystal skull shaped decanter on Unc’s desk, but he knew better than to ask.
“It would be in your best interest to keep you and your son’s asses here in Queensboro for the next week, then permanently move back to this area after the funeral.”
“Yes Sir, Unc.” He said, his shoulders drooping in defeat. He did not want what was bound to happen to Takeisha to happen, but he knew that he was powerless to stop it.
“Now, take off your clothes, I need to relieve this stress. Plus, I haven’t had any of your good ass in about two years.”
“Unc; your wife is home.”
“And she knows to mind her mother fucken business and keep her ass out of my personal space in my house that I paid for.”
Breon undressed as he had been instructed. He too needed to relieve some stress and welcomed the two or more hours of distraction that Unc’s aggressive love making would provide.
Chapter Seven
I woke up Monday morning with the heavy reality that I needed to talk to Chris. Chris had been at my house since Friday night. In the near 72 hours, he did not once call his wife to check on her and his kids. I enjoyed our weekend sexcapade, but I called my parents’ house every two hours to check on my fucken children. If Jerrod and Cooley were alive, they would have taken turns punching Chris in his chest for not holding his family down better than he was.
“Damn, I’m feeling submissible as fuck; a nigga could fuck me.” Said Chris stretching and yawning, before getting out of my bed, completely nude, to go to the bathroom and relieve his morning wood. “You gotta fuck me one more time before I go home.” He said.
Usually, the sight of Chris walking across a room naked would have had me on brick, but I wasn’t able to feel aroused, when I was really feeling disgusted.
When he returned to my bed, I did not object to him wrapping his arms around me and laying his head on my chest.
“You ready to give me some dick?” he asked.
“No.” I admitted. “I really don’t think I want to fuck you, let alone deal with you again.”
Chris’s eyes immediately became glassy.
“Quamie, what did I do?”
“Nigga, when is the last time you spoke to your wife? When is the last time you checked on your kids? I doubt if you can give an answer because your ass was drunk for days leading up to Cooley’s funeral and you have been over here since Friday.”
“Damn, Quamie, where is this coming from?”
“Do you even love your family? Do you even know how blessed you are to have a woman like Vashti?”
“What the hell Quamie, it sounds like you love her more than you do me. Are you in love with my wife?”
“No nigga, but the sad thing is I respect your fucken wife more than you do.”
“You’re way the fuck out of line!”
“Am I? Do you even know or care that your wife is thinking about divorcing you?”
“Man, Vashti ain’t going nowhere.” He said dismissively, then had the nerve to grab my dick.
I did not mean to slap him as hard as I did. Truth be told, I never intended to slap him at all, but here this nigga was about to lose every fucken thing I ever wanted, a normal family with a wife and kids, and all he was focused on was getting dicked down. This is the type of shit I was not going to do in my 30’s. Normally , I would have babied the hell out of this crying ass grown man then pacified him with sex, but shit wasn’t going to change if I didn’t change, so I stood on business.
“Get the fuck out of my bed and get dressed, I will call you an Uber.”
“What?” he sobbed, looking genuinely confused that I hadn’t apologized or wasn’t sucking his dick.
“Get the fuck out of my bed and get dressed. I am calling you an Uber. I don’t want shit to do with you as long as you are like this, Chris. Get your ass in rehab before you drink yourself to death, get your ass in couple’s therapy before you lose a good ass woman and your three sons wind up hating the fuck out of you.”
“Quamie” he reached for me but quickly withdrew his hand because I am sure the look on my face told him that I was fully prepared to slap the shit out of him again. “Damn, I never thought I would see the day that you would kick me while I am down.” He sat up in my bed in the knee-chest position “You judge me for drinking, but why the fuck am I doing it? You don’t understand the half of what I have been going through.” He started rocking back and forth. He was crying, ugly ass, snot slinging tears. “It was fucked up what I did, but they made me cut him up. They didn’t have to do that shit, Cooley could have just buried him, but they made me… It was to teach me a lesson for being reckless and impulsive.”
Who the fuck was they? Chris had not consumed any alcohol the entire time that he had been with me, so I knew he was not drunk. Why was he saying they? For six years I thought only Chris and Cooley had disposed of Breon: Chris got rid of the car and Cooley buried the body.
“They? Who else was involved, Chris?”
He looked at me startled. He was so emotional that he allowed some shit to come out of his mouth that wasn’t supposed to.
“Nobody, I am just fucked up in the head right now. You’ve pretty much told me that I ain’t shit and you don’t want nothing else to do with me so_____”
“Chris, you know that anything you tell me, I am not going to blab to anyone else.”
“Quamie, leave this shit alone.”
“Chris, you know I am not about to let nobody hurt you.”
“Quamie, please leave it the fuck alone. I am sorry I even let that come out of my mouth, because I swore that you would never know about it. This Circle of Amor shit is a lot deeper and a lot darker than you know. There is a lot of shit that you and Jabari don’t ever need to know and if I hadn’t been a stupid ass wanna be thug nigga that night, I would have never known. Jerod and Cooley trained us and they’re dead, but the mother fucker who trained them is alive and heartless as fuck.”
“Who is he?”
“Go ahead and call me an Uber, Quamie. I need to go home and work on myself and my family.”
“Chris, tell me!”
“No. I love you too much. This shit is so serious, Quamie, that I would rather us never be intimate again, than tell you who it is. Please, stop asking. Now I am going to take a shower, either you can take me home, or call me an Uber.”
“What if we make an even trade; you tell me, and I give you the dick down you wanted.” I said caressing his arm in a desperate attempt to cajole the answer out of him.
“Nah,” He said getting out of bed “I ain’t in the mood anymore and the first step in me getting my shit together is not let a nigga look down in his nose at me, then fuck me when wants me to do something that he wants. I am growing the fuck up, Quamie.”
He went to the bathroom to take a shower leaving me with yet another damn thing to wonder and worry about. All these years, it never dawned on me that someone had to have groomed Jerod and Cooley. I was too young and too enthralled in the sexual pleasure to think that something had to be wrong with two grown ass married men in their twenties starting a gay sex club with their teenage cousins. Yeah, maybe me and Chris would have ended up fucking anyway, but Jerod encouraged it and Cooley liked watching it, and as much as I loved and missed both of those niggas, as a 30-year-old father of two sons, I recognize that that shit was wrong.
I was not wrong for what I said to Chris, but I was dead wrong for how I said it and for lacking the empathy to see that he was the most fucked up out of all of us. He went to the extreme to keep a secret and protect the name and reputation of Jerod who had groomed him since the age of 14 that what went on between us needed to be protected at all cost. He killed his cousin, our cousin, and then was made to dismember him. Goddamn! No wonder he had spent the last six years rapidly becoming a poorly functioning alcoholic.
This Circle of Amor shit is a lot deeper and a lot darker than you know.
Chris warned me to leave it alone, but I had to get to the bottom of things. I knew that I would not have any true peace until I had all the answers to the questions that damn near had me on the verge of insanity.
Chapter Eight
I was on my way to pick up the twins from my parents’ house when my Daddy called me asking if the boys could stay with them for the rest of the week. I really did not want to agree, because I missed the fuck out of my kids and did not like to spend any more time away from them than need be, but I knew Mama and Daddy were having a hard time with Cooley’s passing and they really needed two beautiful balls of sunshine like Quamie and Quame to keep their spirits up.
It wasn’t a secret within our family that when Cooley was a child, Aunt Bernadette and Uncle Harold had serious drug habits, and my parents were the ones who took care of Cooley off and on. When I was younger, I low key harbored some jealousy towards Cooley because of the way that my father always doted on him. Cooley was a varsity letterman in high school basketball on top of being a straight A student. He graduated from an HBCU with a 4.0 GPA, married a fine ass woman, and had three beautiful children on top of running a successful business.
I thought about maybe opening the shop up. Lord knows I was getting a hell of a lot of texts from some of my inconsiderate ass customers asking me when I was coming back to work as if I wasn’t dealing with a major loss. As soon as I headed in the direction of the shop, I changed my mind. Giving Cooley his last shave and haircut before his funeral really had me questioning whether or not I still had the passion for hair cutting.
My phone rang. A smile crept across my face when I saw who it was.
“Yo, Quamie, Yo Quamie,” said Jabari soon as I answered the phone “I was just checking up on you, trying to see if we can meet up before I head back to Greensboro.”
“You and Jayson ain’t headed back yet?”
“Jayson’s headed back already. Taheim had football camp at ECU, so Jayson drove him up to Greenville then he’s headed back to Greensboro.”
I was surprised that Taheim went to camp so shortly after his father’s passing and funeral, but Cooley would not have wanted him just sitting around grieving.
“So Quamie, what are you up to man; you want to hang out?”
“Hang out and do what?” I asked using my seductive voice.
“Yo Quamie, you know we can... you know how we …”
“Nigga, I am going to fuck the taste out of your Goddamn mouth!” I said, “I am headed back to my crib; meet me over there.”
“Bet!” He said hanging up.
I couldn’t help but laugh. In my head I could see that horny ass nigga’s leg shaking.
I pulled up to my house and Jabori’s ass was already parked in the dive way. Poor Jabari. That nigga was never going to not be horny. He grew out of his slacker mindset. Five years ago, when he and Jayson moved to Greensboro, Jayson talked Jabori into enrolling in A&T where he completed his bachelor’s degree in communications. Last summer at their graduation, Dad bragged there were now four Aggie men in the family: himself, Cooley, Jayson, and Jabari. I ain’t gonna lie, my Dad saying that made me feel some type of way, like I wasn’t good enough, even though I ran a successful business and owned my own house.
Jabari ran and hugged me the minute I got out of my car. His cock was already rock hard.
“Let’s go inside before the neighbors notice your dick is about to bust out of your shorts.” I whispered.
Damn, I hadn’t changed the sheets from my three-day weekend romp with Chris. Thank God I had a guest room.
In the bed I had intended to fuck Olivier in three days ago, I did my damnest to wear Jabori’s lil freaky ass out. I had that nigga screaming, squirting, and creaming like a mother fucker from the monster stroke I was putting on him. I didn’t get to fuck Jabari too often, but when I did, it was always hot and nasty and hell.
“You always do me right.” Said Jabari after we both came. I didn’t object to him snuggling up to me. The more comfortable I had become with living my truth, the more accepting I was of all forms of male intimacy, not just sex. It felt good being in the arms of another man, and though I wanted to be in the arms of Olivier, Jabari’s arms were just fine.
Vashti was teary eyed as she watched her sweaty, trembling husband pour bottles of liquor and cans of beer down the kitchen sink.
“Baby, let me take care of that.” She offered
“No, I have to do it.” He protested
“Baby, you can barely stand up. Come on sit down. I will take care of the rest of them for you.” She guided him to a kitchen chair, “Come on sit down, you are sweating like a racehorse.”
“I’m trying to get better.” He panted, “I haven’t had a drink in three days.”
“That’s good, baby, but you are trembling, you are sweating heavily, and I can tell you are in pain. You are going through DTs; I need to call the rescue squad.”
“No, just help me get to the guest room. I need to lie down and tough this out.”
“Chris, I am proud of you for trying to stop drinking, but I am scared for you to do it this way.”
“Come on now, you’re Vashti, you ain’t scared shit.” Chris attempted to smile but the abdominal cramping caused him to grimace instead. “Pleas just get me to the guest room, help me lie down and let me get through this.”
“Your ass better not die and leave me and these hardheaded ass boys alone.” She said helping him to his feet.”
“I promise you, I won’t die, if you promise not to give up on me.”
“I promise, baby.”
Chris threw up as soon as they crossed the threshold to the guestroom.
“I’m sorry.” He cried
“Come on, lie down,” said Vashti helping him to get into bed. “I will deal with that in a minute. You just get as comfortable as possible.”
“I love you so much, Vashti.” He said, gripping her hand tightly
“I love you too baby, I’ll be right back to clean that up and bring you some soup and ginger ale.”
On her way to the laundry room to collect towels and cleaning fluid, Vashti noticed Premiere at the sink emptying the remaining bottles.
“Premiere, you don’t have to do that.”
“Goddamn Ma, will you let somebody else do something?!”
“Excuse your ass?!”
“I am sorry,” He apologized “Daddy hasn’t played football or basketball with me and Kyron in over a year. He hasn’t been to any of my games. All he’s been doing is drinking. Do you know how long I have wanted to come in here and pour all of this stuff down the sink because I wanted to save my daddy? Please, let me do this.”
“Okay, baby. Put all of the empty bottles and cans in the trash barrel outside.”
“Yes, Mama.” Said Premiere
Vashti’s heart nearly broke. She had been so wrapped up in her own frustration over Chris’s alcoholism that she never considered how it was affecting their children, especially Premiere who was now a teenager.
“Father God,” she silently prayed in the laundry room, “Please forgive me for everything that I have done wrong. I just wanted my family God; I just wanted my family.”
Chapter Nine
I had a smile on my face all Tuesday morning. It started with some spine tingling, toe-curling, mind-blowing sex with Jabori before he left to return to Greensboro. I had an invigorating shower, while “My Love” by Florence and the Machine played on repeat. I was toweling off and trying to figure out what I wanted, if anything, to do all day, when my phone rang.
“Hello, Quamie”
“Olivier; I didn’t think I would ever hear from you again.”
“I just wanted to check on you and to apologize.”
“You don’t owe me an apology. If anybody is owed an apology it’s you. I am sorry for the way that I behaved.”
“I accept your apology, Quamie, but I apologize to you as well. I should not have started a sexual encounter with you knowing that I did not intend to go through with it. I lied about one of my partners being positive in order to get out of it.”
“What?” I was starting to get hot. That nigga lied about one of his partners having the Ut Oh just to get out of giving me some ass after I sucked his mother fucken dick! That shit was mad grimy! I was tempted to slam the phone down on his ass and block the shit out of him, but Olivier was so Goddamn fine, and maybe this little conscience clearing session was the gateway to me finally getting to bang those guts.
“I am sorry Quamie. If you are not busy today, I was thinking maybe we could meet for lunch, that is if you don’t mind driving up to Greenville.”
“Will we be having dessert?” I teased
“We won’t be having sex,” He said to my disappointment
“Damn, thanks for ripping the band aid off quickly.”
“But… I do think it is only fair that I give you some head, because I ain’t gonna lie, that was the best blow job I have had in my life, and I have had my dick sucked by two niggas at the same time plenty of times.”
That shit had me feeling proud as fuck. Jerod had declared me the best dick sucker in our circle, and I owned the hell out of that.
“I will be up there around one. I will text you when I am in town, and we can decide where to have lunch.”
“Sounds like a plan. See you then Quamie.”
“See you, Olivier.”
My adrenaline was through the mother fucken roof. I wanted to look and smell extra good for him. I chose Tom Ford cologne and wore my peach and black plaid hoochie daddy shorts, peach tank top, and a pair of black Nike sandals.
“Oh, you’re either going to go get some bussy or give a nigga some.” Teased my Dad when I stopped by to drop off some snacks for the twins. I loved that my parents didn’t judge, which made me wonder why I spent so many years of my life feeling the need to be secretive about my same sex attraction.
“Stay in your lane old man.” I laughed
“Shit, I am probably in your lane more than you think. You had to get it from somewhere.” He winked at me before going back inside of the house.
I chopped that shit up to my Daddy just trolling me, because won’t no way in the mother fucken world, and if it was true, I didn’t want that thought in my Goddamn head!
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