A Hot Mess Read online

  Mike stood up and dropped his pants. His dick wasn’t really hard. He didn’t know all this was gonna go down that night, so he wasn’t prepared. He had no condoms, and he hadn’t taken his blue pill.

  He begged her for head, but she denied him, so he eased in her raw, which she allowed, believing he hadn’t been nowhere since his wife. He was semi-hard, but after he got in, she felt him begin to swell, and he began to pump. After three minutes she heard him let out a deep moan.

  He was done and smiling, beads of sweat sprinkled on his forehead, but he could tell she hadn’t cum. He did something that surprised her, that no man had ever done to her: He began eating her again, trying to make her cum after he’d cum in her.

  Joy quickly faked an orgasm. She was done. As long as he was happy, she was okay. She just wanted someone to want her, someone to compliment her, someone to keep her company, so she wouldn’t have to be alone. And Mike was it. And they laid together and fell asleep.

  The next several days Mike showed nothing but concern, as if she had him open. He came to her job and took her to lunch. He came by each evening to keep her company.

  Then the weekend came, and he got a room down the beach, where they walked and talked, and took pictures as if they were a couple. They went to the room, sat in the Jacuzzi, and smoked and sipped on Patrón.

  Mike began a repeat of the other night, but tonight he paid all the attention to her asshole, licking and sucking it raw. He pulled some liquid KY from his bag and put on his finger, to ease in and out of her ass. Joy didn’t care too much for it, but it made him happy. Then he grabbed a condom. Tonight he was ready. His dick stood straight up.

  He eased inside of her then turned her over as he hit from the back. Then he slid his finger in her ass before pulling out, putting some KY on his dick, and trying to ease in her ass. She jumped, but he held her, letting her know that it might hurt a little but he was a pro at it. Fucking in the ass was his thing.

  Joy was hurting, but she wanted so much to satisfy him, she did what he wanted. And Mike never saw the tears in her eyes from the pain, but she didn’t want him to leave her. Over the next few months, they got closer, and Joy noticed he just loved to eat her then go straight to her asshole. In fact, he’d cum in her ass much more than in her vagina.

  One day, while Mike was chilling at her house, she was preparing to get a shower, trying to get ready for one of their escapades. She forgot her shower cap, so she yelled for him in the living room, but her call went unanswered. She wrapped a towel around her and walked out the bathroom, but didn’t see him. She went to the door and opened it, hearing him on the phone outside her apartment door. She quickly shut the door and went to the window and cracked it.

  “Naw, baby, can I get this money? I gotta work late, so I can finish this paperwork, so I can make this extra change. If I don’t, who gonna pay the mortgage? We already behind,” he said. “Soon as I finish this paperwork, I got another customer. And you know I can’t afford to let nothing slip by me. Love ya now. I’ll be home in a bit. Put me a plate in the microwave. Love ya. Later!”

  Joy ran back in the room and into the bathroom.

  Mike came back inside. “You all right, baby?” he yelled.

  “Yeah!” she said through the pain.

  Then she heard the front door open and shut again. She walked back to the window.

  “What up, bro? What you doing?” Mike asked on the phone.

  “Who? Tamil? She over there now? Sucking dick? Nasty bitch!” he said, laughing. “When we gonna fuck her again? She think because she turned me on to this fat bitch, I don’t want no more of that white pussy, but her roommate don’t suck dick on a reg.”

  Mike listened for a bit then said, “Nigga, shit! You know me. Don’t make me a difference, man or woman, boy or girl. I’ll fuck ’em all in the ass. Keeps my KY jelly to lube ’em up.” He laughed hard. “At the end of the day, you know I carry my ass home to my wife. Fuck these hoes and these gay-ass niggas! Nobody ain’t getting in my ass,” he said seriously. “I’ll be there in a few. This bitch in the shower. Soon as she come out, I’ma get this quick nut and I’m out. Tell Tam thanks for the hookup. Holla in a bit, man.”

  Joy ran to the shower and allowed the water to camouflage her tears. She didn’t know what to do, but it quickly hit her.

  When they’d first met online and started talking, they had gotten close, and one week he called and she really couldn’t talk because she was in so much pain from her period coming down. So Tamil had told him she would have to call him back. When they did talk, he acted so concerned about her monthly pain. She even remembered him making a comment about the shit women have to go through, but actually she was one of those women who only got a period twice a year, and then she had to make it come on. She hadn’t had one since they’d been fucking around and remembered he went raw the first time, and a couple times after that in her pussy and in her ass.

  She got out the shower and dried off, grabbed her purple robe and slipped it on. Soon as she walked out, he grabbed her from behind.

  “What up, baby? You know I miss ya. Been on my mind all day. Couldn’t wait to get to ya,” he said, pants off, dick in his hand already lubed up with the KY, and his right hand looking greasy.

  He quickly slid his hand under her robe, and before she knew it, she was on her bed, face down, his hand in the crack of her ass, and his middle finger easing in her asshole. She turned quickly and sat down, holding her stomach, looking at him, his manhood sticking straight up and his hand in an upward position.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, not used to her stopping him.

  “My stomach been fucked up. I know this feeling. I think I’m pregnant, Mike.”

  “Pregnant? What?”

  Joy watched his dick go soft.

  “Yeah, baby. It’s a blessing. Your mother passed away about a year ago. This could be her way of sending you someone to really love and call your own. I’m getting over my ex, you’re getting over your past. This is gonna be our connection,” she said, staring in his face. “I love you.” Joy smiled. “Come make love to me,” she said, pulling off her robe, laying back, and spreading her legs. “Let me feel you in here.” She brushed her hand across her vagina and stomach, not caring about him seeing her belly.

  “You sure, Joy? ’Cause I ain’t ready for no baby. You got kids and me too. This ain’t the time.”

  “Mike, don’t do this. Please don’t do this. I love you, Mike. I wanna keep it. I want us to be together, to be a family.” Joy began to cry.

  “Baby, I got to figure this out. Damn! I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he said, putting his underwear and slacks back on.

  “Please don’t make me go through this by myself. We a family.”

  “I got to think, baby. I got to put this together. Give me a few. I got to get up to the lot.” He kissed her and gave her a hug.

  She placed his hand on her stomach. “We love you. Will I see you later?”

  “Yeah!” he answered and was out the door.

  Joy saw him once more after that, a week later, when he dropped off $700 for her to get an abortion and then get a room for a couple days so they could have some privacy to deal with the situation. They hadn’t talked since.

  Now she was calling him to help her get a car. But her license and credit weren’t good, so she was gonna have to get it in Omari’s name. To her surprise, Omari gave her $1,500 down. Mike took it to a couple finance companies he worked hand in hand with and got it done, and they drove off with a new Impala.

  The $1,500 rekindled what she felt for Omari, and for another year, she put up with him and the shit that came with it. But when her lease was up and she wanted to move, Omari was doing bad, and she needed some help.

  Joy eventually found a place, a three-bedroom town house, in a section of VA Beach called Lake Edward. She could handle the $800 monthly rent, but she didn’t have $1,600 to get in the place. She had two weeks to move out of her place, and her back was against the
wall. She did everything she could to get the money, but nothing, and nobody, came through.

  She tried to force Omari, giving him an ultimatum, making her home as uncomfortable as possible. She stopped cooking, packed up all the dishes, stopped fucking him, and even had other niggas calling the house.

  Omari was furious. He had nothing to give, so he began staying back at his moms more, but never gave up on Joy.

  Joy stayed on her grind, but she couldn’t find this money nowhere. She swore she would never be without again. Not wanting to go to her moms, she went to her last resort, Brooklyn Cuts.

  CHAPTER 8

  Minke had turned most of his drug money into legitimate businesses, opening up a barber shop, rim shop, and a restaurant. But he couldn’t stay out the streets. They had him. They were who he was married to.

  Joy had gotten right this day, making sure that when Minke saw her, he would definitely want some pussy. As she got closer to the shop, her stomach kept churning. She hadn’t seen him since he shitted on her, and she hadn’t talked to him, but through the grapevine, she’d heard what he was up to. She even knew in the last six years, he’d been locked up for two, but came home and got his shit back. He had caught his charge in VA and was sent up to Indian Creek. She thought he was gonna try to reach out to her then and she could get the chance to shit on him and pay him back, but he never did.

  She walked inside Brooklyn Cuts, wearing a white flowing skirt, navy blue open-toe sandals with three-inch heels, and a navy blue shirt with the top buttons open, showing her forty-two-DD’s being held by the navy blue bra. Lady had weaved her head up so that the wrap was super tight as it came around and rested on her chest.

  Every barber’s mouth dropped at the big girl coming in, even Sizemo, who was cutting in the first chair. When he realized it was Joy, he stopped staring, and they hugged each other.

  Sizemo was Minke’s man, running all his shit while he was away and out of town. He was with Minke and Hitler the day they’d met her, Malaina, and Queen.

  He stared at her up and down again, and then at her breasts. They looked as if they were trying to get at him. “Gotdamn, girl! Got me ready to snatch you up,” he joked.

  He knew she would always be Minke’s girl, but if she let him, he would fuck her. She was always like that to him since the first day he saw her, and now that extra weight meant nothing. After twelve years, who hadn’t gotten bigger? He was a 200 solid beast when she last saw him, now he was pushing 350, mostly fat.

  “Where my baby daddy at, boy? You crazy.”

  “In New York,” he said.

  “Well, I need you to get him a message for me. Can you do that?”

  “Yeah. Fuck you been up to? Don’t act like we strangers, girl. We done hung. You used to stop by and holla, even when you and Minke was together. He ain’t never mind you coming by, smoking and hanging with the god. Don’t get new!” Sizemo smirked.

  “I know. You know we always been cool, Sizemo. You know I been through it.”

  “All right, all right. What you doing later?” he asked, not wanting her to get started on personal shit in the shop. “Well, hold tight. I’ll be finished in a few. We can put one in the air and catch up.”

  “Sounds good. Hope you gonna feed me,” she said seriously. “Shit! Ain’t nothing change.”

  “Give me a second,” he said smiling and shaking his head.

  When Sizemo finished his last appointment, him and Joy jumped in his Tahoe and headed to Applebee’s. As soon as they got in the truck, the sounds began to blast, and he lit the Dutch that sat in the ashtray.

  “Ain’t nothing change, baby, but the weight.” Sizemo passed her the slow-burning Dutch.

  “I see, nigga. You know I know how you do.” She laughed. “I also know you better not make me fuck a bitch up for rolling in the street with ya. Know you still running hoes.” She laughed as she passed the Dutch back.

  “Naw, ain’t shit change, but now I want my own bitch. Got to have my own,” he said.

  “So whatever happened to Pat? That was yo’ bitch. You two muthafuckas used to go at it.”

  “You ain’t lying. She was one of the good ones, but you know, I felt I made a better choice when I met Rhonda. And I did. Then I felt I did better when I met Carmen. And I did. Then came Lelani, and she was the fucking bomb. But ain’t none of them hoes make me marry ’em. So then came Kamrin. Kam-Kam. That’s my baby. She at work right now. RN. Bitch really got it going on, so I’m moving slow right now,” he said seriously.

  “Shit, yo big ass ain’t got no choice but to move slow.”

  “Look who talking. When you walked in the shop, I was like, Damn! Who’s this wobbling in here with those big-ass titties?” Sizemo laughed as he parked.

  “Shit! Nigga, I was like, Who this fat dike-bitch with big-ass titties? Then I said, Oh God, that’s Sizemo. Nigga, you need a bra.” Joy laughed.

  “Fuck you, girl! But yo’ ass right. I should’ve been back in the gym. This shit is pathetic,” he said, grabbing his stomach and chest. “And now both our big asses going in here and get bigger.”

  Sizemo and Joy bust out laughing together.

  She closed the door. “Niggas still on the cute face and begging to touch the girls.”

  “And bitches still giving me pussy and fighting over this dick, so I’m all right.”

  “Picture yo big ass fucking. All them hoes see is money. The cool fat guy in the Jordans, Rocawear gear, New York fitted, pushing the nice truck, and they see money.” Joy smirked.

  “All they better see is this dick, because that’s all a nigga giving away,” he said, smiling as they sat down.

  “You right. You ain’t change.”

  “Never will, my nigga, never will. Let’s sit at the bar. Double Patrón!” he yelled as he sat down. “What you want, Joy?”

  “Same thing, nigga. If I’m hanging, I’m chilling.”

  “That’s what it is. Know what? When we leave here, I got to go to MacArthur Mall. I got to get my shorty a birthday gift. You with me?”

  “Hell, yeah! I ain’t got shit to do today.” Joy was feeling good about hanging out and having a nice time with a real friend.

  “So what’s the deal with you? What you been up to, Joy? Where you been? And what made you come up in yo’ husband shop?”

  “That nigga ain’t my husband. He’s my kids’ father. My baby daddy,” she said with a smirk. “But I need him now. I ain’t came at him in years, but my back against the wall,” she said, staring out in space.

  “Well, what’s the word you want me to get to him?”

  “I ain’t one of his bitches, trying to hunt this nigga down because he won’t return my call. I was his wife, I had his kids. This muthafucka decided to just shit on me and his kids one day and left me fucked up. I made it through, and made sure these kids kept food in they mouth and a roof over their head, but I need some help. My lease up, and I need some dough to make this next move.”

  Sizemo smiled. “And you say all that to say?”

  “Call that nigga up. You got that direct line Size. Don’t play. Hit him now,” Joy said seriously.

  Sizemo pulled out his phone and dialed Minke, who answered on the second ring.

  “What it do, my dude?”

  “You know . . . what I hit you about, it’s good?” Sizemo asked.

  “Yeah, yeah, perfect timing. Put her on,” Minke said, his stomach feeling funny.

  “Here ya go.” Sizemo handed Joy the phone.

  “Hello.” Joy’s stomach was churning too. She didn’t know why she was feeling funny about talking to him, and her voice had a slight crack in it.

  “What’s up, mommy? How you doing today?”

  “I’m doing good today. And you, Minke?”

  “Okay now,” he said softly. “I went through it for a sec, but getting back on my feet.”

  “You back, nigga, and running.”

  “You crazy, Lecia,” he said in a soft Northern tone.

  Nobody called her
Lecia but him. Her whole world became a daze, as she listened.

  “What I’m trying to figure out, what the fuck going on in your life that would make you come look for me?”

  “Well, I got a two-bedroom off Little Creek. Your son is too big to be sharing a room with his sister,” she said, stepping away from the bar and going outside. “Excuse me, I had to walk outside. Don’t need everybody in my business.”

  “You got business now?” he asked, laughing.

  “You made me get some business. Or fucking drown!”

  “Why you cussin’, Lecia? See, you getting fucking mad. Then that attitude shit come out, and—”

  “And what? What, Minke? You left me fucked up, and I ain’t supposed to have no attitude? Tell me this, muthafucka!”

  And for twenty minutes straight, it seemed, without taking a breath, she went through all his wrong, her shelter life, her moms’ house, and her struggles with two kids. She was breathing hard, ready to cry.

  “And all that ended in divorce. You said it, I heard it, and maybe I deserve that. But that’s the last time I want to hear it. And let that be the last time you ever disrespect me by calling me out my name.”

  “Fuck you, Minke! You ain’t shit,” Joy said, forgetting everything. “You can’t do shit else to hurt me. You can’t—”

  “Hey!” he yelled. “You got me fucked up, bitch! I will come down there and beat yo muthafuckin’ ass! Wife or not, try me, Lecia! Test me!” he said loudly.

  They shared a moment of silence.

  “You ain’t gonna put yo hands on me,” she said softly.

  He mocked her. “You ain’t gonna put yo hands on me. Shut your country ass up! What’s up? What you need?” he asked directly.

  “I need to move by the first, and I need two thousand dollars.”

  “Where you moving to?”

  “Lake Edward. Town house, three-bedroom on East Hastings. It’s eight fifty a month, but I got to pay water, get shit on, you know.”