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LUV in the Projects


Tremayne Tillman

© Copyright 2018 Dragon Fire Publications.

All Rights Reserved.

Around my way, niggas didn’t show love. As a matter of fact, love might as well not even been a thing. Love would get a nigga eaten alive out here. All I knew my whole life was gang shit. I came up with the same niggas since day one. That was the fam’ and the only niggas I could ever trust, ‘cause you see, out here, shit was simple: trust no one, especially not any of these trifling hoes.

Yet, despite all this street shit that I was brought up on, there was still this one shawty that happened to capture my attention. Her name was Lyla. I don't know what it was about Lyla, but she managed to evoke some type of feeling from me. That shit was crazy, ‘cause I done fucked my share of hoes before, a lot of bad bitches with Coke bottle figures, yet all of them always seemed to be the same. Most of my life I’ve been numb to feeling, yet somehow, someway Lyla’s calming smile managed to reignite some sort of fire within me.

It started off as a regular day in June. I was putting in the usual work off the corner of Tut Ave and Makeba Blvd.--that was my squad’s territory; every nigga around the way knew that if they came over to this block and wasn’t fam’, then they were going to have some problems. Anyway, it started off as just another day. I had feens lining up on the block to get their fix of all types of shit, ranging from coke to heroine, and from molly to moonshine; my squad had the block covered. About an hour into the daily hustle, I saw this fine young female turning the corner. She looked like she was lost or something, her face resembling a puppy and shit.

“Well how you doing lil’ mama,” I couldn’t resist hollering out as she passed my way.

She turned and glanced at me nervously. Her hair was of a natural curly texture that had a deep brown almost black color to it. Her skin was that of a very light copper, and as she looked at me, I couldn't help but marvel at those hazel eyes. Her body was too right. Shawty had some serious swag too, with her short blue dry-washed cut off jeans that cupped her thick gargantuan thighs, along with her small black t-shirt that cut off at her belly button, and showcased her rather toned stomach. Even her shoe game was on point; homegirl was rocking some red, blue and black high top Jordan’s.

I eyed her like she was already mine. She didn’t know how to respond to my welcoming call, so she just continued to walk by as she dropped her head, pretending to be engrossed in her iPhone screen.

“Well damn gal, don’t you got any manners?” I impatiently spoke for a second time, feeling slightly disrespected that she chose to not even acknowledge me.

At this point, she had walked past me, trying her best to act like she didn't want to fuck with me, as I worshipped the aesthetic of that ass bounce through them jeans. Suddenly, to my surprise, she stopped in her tracks and began to literally walk backwards towards me.

“Look, I’m just trying to get home, okay, so you can chill with all this cave nigga shit?”

Her fire turned me on even more, cranking up my interest just a couple of notches.

“Where’s home, shawty?” I asked as I took out a blunt and sparked it up.

Lyla looked at me like I had lost my mind.

“Now I know you must be tripping, nigga. I never seen you before a day in my life and you fixing to ask me where home is?” she scoffed. “As if…I gotta give you an A for effort, but no, my nigga, you ain’t hitting this!”

I got a kick out of this as I puffed on my blunt.

“Whoa now!” I exhaled. “You was the one carrying on about trying to get home, and to be fair, you look hella lost, and I was just trying to look out. That’s all, little mama; no need to get all bent out of shape.”

“Okay, first of all, my name is Lyla!” she insisted. “Second of all, I don’t need some random fuck boy to pretend to be my friend! I wasn’t born yesterday, nigga! I know mighty well how you niggas operate; you all the same!”

“My bad, Lyla, my bad,” I backtracked as I hit another drag from the blunt. “True, you is a grown ass woman, but at the same time, you don’t know these parts like I do, was all I was saying. This been my block pretty much my whole life. I seen a lot of shit go down around these parts, especially when it get hot like it do now. Shit can get real, and niggas don’t got no AC, so they go crazy and kill anybody in they path. It’s a war zone, for real. It ain’t no place for a pretty girl as yourself to be wandering around.”

“Well, I appreciate your insight, but I really think I will be just fine!” Lyla dropped her head back down to her phone again as she continued to strut on by with grimace; she walked with such purpose and confidence.

As much as I wanted to chase after her, I knew that I needed to stay on the corner until the day’s work was done. After all, that seemed to be a common thing that happened to niggas out here; they would always get distracted by some random hoe, and that would end up being their down fall. Some of my OG homies told me horror stories of how young niggas came up off the block and made a decent living pushing some serious weight in the streets, and it all went away right after they decided to fuck with one of these bitches. I wasn’t about to be one of those niggas. I worked too damn hard for mine, and it would be literally insane to drop all that shit for some stuck-up bitch.

A few minutes after Lyla went by, I found myself back on the same grind, serving up customers as they came up the way. All the while though, I couldn’t shake Lyla from my mind. I couldn’t explain it, but her swag, her physique, even her voice, all seemed to stick like glue to my psyche.

The next thing I knew, I overheard the most horrifying scream, just a few blocks down from where I was hustling. The voice was clearly a female’s. It wasn’t unusual to hear shit like that; in fact, it was more commonplace. Everyday something went down with somebody, but on this particular occasion, I felt inclined to investigate.

I hustled in the direction of the hellish holler. Sure enough, as I get a few blocks down, I came upon a rather horrifying scene. A group of four young niggas were savagely beating and groping a young woman in plain view in the middle of the street. I inched my way closer. They showed no mercy, alternating between kicking and punching the young woman badly bruising her body all over. I couldn't quite make out her identity as I crept up behind for an even closer look.

“You a dumb bitch!” yelled out one with a sloppy afro as he pulled her by her hair from the asphalt pavement.

“Hell yeah!” agreed another attacker. “You just wait ‘til we done with you! We fixing to give you what you looking for, hoe!”

“I need some of you niggas to hold this bitch down, while the rest of us start tearing off her clothes! This cunt fixing to learn today!” the seemingly leader of the group commanded.

I remained hella low key. None of these niggas could’ve known I was behind them. They were all too obsessed with tormenting this young woman. I just couldn’t watch this shit no more, so I pulled my glock 40 pistol right out of my waist band. I carefully aimed at these niggas, trying to find the best way to take all of them out. Shit was kind of personal too, as I quickly noticed that each of these niggas had orange bandanas that hung from their jeans. They was repping that Hollow Goon Squad from a few blocks over. I didn't fuck with them niggas at all. As far as I was concerned, my squad was at war with these punks. They were way too close to my block, and on top of that, took it upon themselves to attack someone that wasn't even in their territory.

Call it how you want, but where I’m from, that shit was mad disrespectful, and I damn sure wasn't about to be disrespected in my own hood, so without any further hesitation, I pulled the trigger and started letting these niggas have it.

As soon as I started shooting, the young woman started to scream even louder, as her attackers frantically began to try to escape from the gun fire. I immediately popped the alpha nigga that was giving all the orders in the back of the head, letting off the first good shot of the day. He instantly dropped to the concrete, blood oozing everywhere. The remaining three niggas proceeded to run, terrified that their leader had been hit. I kept on spraying, hitting another one of them fuck niggas in the upper back as they tried to run, having their body thud with great force on the hot summer asphalt.

The other two niggas were gone, splitting off in opposite directions as they literally ran for their lives. I put the safety on my pistol and tucked it back in my waist band. I walked closer towards the woman who’d been violated by them. Come to find out it was Lyla, who was literally balled up in the middle of the street; her hands were on top of her head, acting as a shield of sorts, with tears flooding her face. She was visibly frightened, her body shaking uncontrollably, along with her teeth which were chattering impulsively. She was bruised up pretty bad all over, though not in need of serious medical attention.

I leaned over her and held out my hand. She gazed at me with the most terrifying glare; she was still in a delicate emotional state.

“Hey,” I uttered, “My name is Tarim, and I want to help you, okay. So just bear with me; I want to get you to my spot to get you cleaned up, and after that, you can be on your way, sound good?”

Lyla had such a crazed look in her eyes, as she became frantic and overcome with raw emotion.

“Fuck you!” she screamed. “I don’t need you! I don’t need any of you niggas!” She began to ball uncontrollably as her voice shook.

“Look, I ain’t trying to hurt you, a’ight?”I bent over to gently pick her up from the ground. “I heard someone in trouble, and I decided to come check it out. I just want to get you cleaned up, a’ight? I promise you that I ain’t going to hurt you.”

I scooped her up from the pavement, her body snugly cradled in my arms.

“Put me the fuck down! Now!” Lyla began to protest furiously, pounding my chest with her fists, and flailing her legs forcefully, damn near almost knocking me over in the process.

“Damn! You’re pretty strong, girl. I’ll give you that!” I half-joked.

“You ain’t seen shit yet, nigga!” Lyla popped off. “If you don’t stop and put me down, I might just lay your ass out! Wouldn’t be the first time I busted a nigga’s face up!”

I couldn't help but smirk. This woman was something. I’d literally just saved her life and was trying to get her to my spot just to fix her up and here she was causing such a hissy fit and never bothered to once utter a single word of gratitude. I kind of fucked with that. She damn sure wasn’t from my hood, but she was without a doubt from a hood; I just didn't know where yet.

“Look, we literally almost there, a’ight?” I continued to carry homegirl as I found myself only a few feet away from my spot.

The closer we got, the more she resisted.

“How do I know you not just like them other niggas?” she demanded. “I don’t trust you, nigga! You can sit here and act all good like you really give a fuck about me, but all you niggas will say anything just to get ya knob wet! Quit the shit already, nigga! I ain’t fucking you! So let me just go the fuck home!”

I finally set Lyla down gently on the ground, feet first, as I reached in my left pocket for the keys. As I began to open the door, I immediately felt a forceful presence that impacted the right side of my face, nearly causing my head to sway back. This bitch Lyla had actually hit me! I turned to see her glaring at me with her fists squared up in front of her face.

“You still think I’m playing, nigga?” Lyla eyed me as if I were her prey as I opened the door to my apartment and went inside.

I glared back from inside, brushing my right hand against my face.

“Damn girl! Look, I’m honestly just trying to help you out, get you something to eat, and washed up or whatever, and then after that, you can go back to wherever, but I feel like you not in the best shape to travel by yourself, especially now that it’s getting dark.” I stared at Lyla and could tell that she was still heavily contemplating what to do.

Finally, she slowly started to walk into my apartment, her guard still noticeably up as she ventured inside. I closed the door behind her as she entered.

“Okay.” She took a breath. “So answer me this. Why the fuck did you save me? You’re this big time gangster and shit, so how come you don't just fuck me up like them other savages did, huh? It just don’t add up!”

“Maybe we ain’t all heartless, baby.” I sparked up another blunt as I went to the bathroom to get Lyla a wet wash cloth to help her with her wounds,. After I’d handed it to her, I sat down on my tan colored couch. “It’s as simple as this is my hood. It’s been my hood my whole life. Those niggas that was fucking with you were not in their proper hood, point blank. You obviously not from here either, but you was just passing through. Didn't seem like you was trying to cause any trouble, and once I heard that you was in trouble, I couldn’t just let that shit happen on my block.”

“Whatever. All I know is if I learned anything over my 18 years on this planet, it’s to never trust any of these niggas. I literally been in more fights with niggas than I have with bitches. All of these niggas out here talk up this big game, but at the end of the day, they go ghost after they get that one thing that they was always after anyway, and don’t even try to pretend like you never been like that before. So you gon’ let me hit that or what?” Lyla eyed the blunt like her life depended on it while she tended the washcloth to her slightly bruised ribs.

“I thought you’d never ask,” I smirked.

I passed Lyla the blunt as she sat next to me on the couch.

“I didn't even know you smoked.”

“Well, you don't know shit about me, now do you?” Lyla exhaled.

“That’s the thing, shawty. That could change; we don’t got to be strangers or nothing.” I got up and walked toward the kitchen and started to cook up some hot wings. “You want some wings?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Lyla took another long drag from the blunt.

“So where is home for you, huh?” I asked from the kitchen.

“I’m from here. Just over on the Eastside.” Lyla took another big drag.

“What was you doing over here, if you don't mind me asking?”

“I was going to run an errand for a friend and then ended up getting lost. I think that I took a wrong turn somewhere. And those animals just attacked me like a fucking pack of wolves or some shit!”

“It’s politics.” I began frying the wings over the stove.

“The fuck does that even mean?”

“It’s as simple as you clearly look like you not from here. And some of these niggas don’t take kindly to folks that got that look like you do, you know.”

“No I don’t know!” Lyla snapped, “The fuck does that mean? They don’t like my look! I’m a woman for fuck’s sake! I already got it hard enough!”

“It’s just that a lot of the niggas over here be at war with a lot of the pale niggas that live over in the Eastside. They got their own gangs and shit like we do; they do the same shit like we do, and try to come up. But the difference is that we got melanin over here, and over there them niggas pale as fuck looking like ghosts and shit. We just don't fuck with the other side like that. It’s just how it’s always been as long as I been living, and that’s probably how it’s always going to be.”

“So you’re saying that I was attacked because I’m fair skinned? Is that what you’re literally saying, my nigga?”

“Well yeah, that’s why I was trying to tell you to stay woke earlier, ‘cause anyone who’s not from this specific area never know what they getting in to. It’s the same shit if me or one of my homeboys decided to fuck around on the Eastside for a bit. We’d be going into a death trap. They hate us so much over there. Hell, the gangs may even cease fighting each other just long enough to unite to fuck one of us up. That’s just how it is, yo.”

“Oh okay, and that’s just supposed to make everything okay? Knowing that is fucking politics?”

“I ain’t make these rules up. They been here as long as I can remember, and as long the old heads can even remember, it’s always been the shit we living.”

“That’s stupid as fuck to me, to have to choose sides over dumb shit. My mama’s white and with dark hair. She grew up on the Eastside. Her brothers are all into that gang shit. But then my pops is from this part of town. He’s black, yet grew up in the same struggle as my mama as far as I’m concerned. Yeah, they were both from opposite ends of the city, but both of them was brought up in the struggle. Them white people on the Eastside are just as damn poor as the black people over here, but nobody wants to think about that. Instead, you all are so fixated with how people look!”

I stepped out the kitchen with a hot plate of wings and placed it on the table in front of the couch.

“That’s all we know.” I picked up a wing and blew it to cool it off first

“I had to fight nearly every day when I was a little girl. These white people that I grew up with got the same mentality as over here. Ain’t nobody give no fucks about nobody’s life or nothing. I hate this fucking city, and I’m just counting down the days ‘til I finally get to peace out of this fuckhole!”

“Where you about to go?”

“I have a scholarship to go to Macon-Stife University in the fall.”

“Oh shit! You one of them?” I laughed

“Okay, this is exactly the shit that I’m talking about! All these vague generalizations! The fuck does one of them mean, huh? Do you mean someone who actually wants to have a better clean life, or someone who, God forbids, actually wants to do right in life? I’m sorry that I don’t have aspirations of being some trap queen!”

“You really got no chill, do you?”

“Well, what about you, Tarim?”

“What about me, shawty?”

“What is it that you want out of life? What are your deepest aspirations, your dreams?”

“All I know is how to get paper and maintain. I got my street hustle, and I got this little SoundCloud rap grind going on, so I gets my respect, you feel me. Tomorrow ain’t promised, so I don't do much thinking about the future to be honest, yo.”

“Well, that ain’t really a way to live.”

I went ahead and pulled out another blunt and began to spark it up. Homegirl was starting to get mad deep on me, and I didn't really know how to handle it all.

“Who are you to tell me how to live, shawty?” I inhaled feeling myself become slightly stressed out by this conversation. “When I was three years old, I seen my daddy get his goddamn head cut off by a nigga waving around a machete at the convenience store. I lost count of the number of niggas I personally knew who I saw laying in the middle of the street with fresh bullet holes ripe with blood leaking from they bodies. I seen what happened to you today happen to other females countless numbers of times. I seen the pigs kill my five-year old nephew, shot him right in the head just because he was supposedly blocking the road, but all the little nigga was doing was playing with his football in the street. But even shit as simple as that can get you murked out here. I didn't even finish school. I had to drop out when I was like eleven just so I could go to work to help mama keep the lights and AC on. So with all due respect, before you so quick to judge me and look down on my life, try to think how would you be if that was your life?”

Lyla remained silent for a moment as it finally registered to her how real this shit was to me.

“Damn, my bad.” Lyla’s words were shy. “I had no idea that you went through all that.”

“Well, that’s just life; some niggas go through worse.”

“Worse?” Lyla’s pitch heightened.

“Well, yeah. Shit’s always been real out here. You constantly got to look over your shoulder. You got to be the one to get niggas before you get got, you feel me? Look, I may not be some smart college nigga, but I seen a lot over these 20 years that I’ve been alive and shit. I’m blessed to see 20, when I know so many niggas that were gone before they hit 18. I ain’t trying to preach to you or nothin’, ‘cause I ain’t about that, but all I’m saying is for a nigga coming from where I come from, I did pretty well for myself. This crib we in, paid for by me. I got a nice whip, fresh clothes, food to feed me and mine, all this shit that niggas literally dream of over this way; I got that shit. You just gotta get it how you live out here. Ain’t nobody got time for college out here. We too busy trying to survive, shawty.”

“You know…” Lyla inched closer to me on the couch. “I hear what you saying, Tarim, I do, but at the same time, you got to understand that you ain’t talking to some little blonde school cunt from the ‘burbs, okay?”

I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Shawty was a straight savage. She didn't give a flying fuck, and there was something about that fire that I loved in a woman.

“The fuck you laughing at, nigga?” Lyla asserted.

“Yo, chill, chill. It’s all good; you just had me geeking with that last comment though.”

“It’s interesting that once a woman tries to open up about her truth, you laugh at it? But you just gave me your life story and expected me to be empathetic towards it, yet you won’t even let me finish a damn sentence?” Lyla became noticeably frustrated.

“Nah, it’s not even like that, shawty; you tripping.” I started to become a tad bit irritated with homegirl’s antics.

“Nah, nah, player, you the one who tripping!” Lyla popped off. “Now look! I really appreciate your kindness, and for essentially saving my life. Like, yeah, good looks on that, but I’m really starting to feel like you just want to judge me! Like I said, I may be half-white, but I come from the struggle too. When I was coming up, it was pretty common for there to be a few days each week where the fridge would be completely empty. When I was 5 years old, I trained myself to be able to read and write in the dark because the lights were off for most of my early childhood. Yeah, shit went down out on the block; I got numb to the sound of gunshots and just found it easier to get lost in a book. Reading, writing, and just learning something different, that’s always been what I’ve been into. Sure, all these lame ass hoes made fun of me, called me a nerd and all this shit. But you know what? They can talk all the shit that they want to, ‘cause at the end of the day, I was one of the few people in my hood that actually went to school. Most of the folks on my block dropped out like you did, but I didn’t. It doesn't make me any better than you, but I’m just saying, you talk about working your ass off on the block. Well, I worked my ass off with the books, and I’m damn sure going somewhere with that!”

That was admittedly a lot to process. I got up from the couch and went back into the kitchen to retrieve an unopened bottle of Muscatel. I sat back down on the couch after pouring a glass for myself and my guest.

“So what is it that you want to do?” I asked as I handed Lyla her glass of wine.

“I want to change the world, inspire others, especially young women, let them know you don't got to be in the hood your whole life. I want people to know that they can be something.” Lyla took a whiff of her cup of Muscatel. “Look at you, keeping it hood classy with the Muscatel.”

“Well, you know, that’s just how I do,” I joked.

Lyla took a sip.

“Thank you though.” Lyla studied at me with her hazel eyes. For the first time, it was a look that wasn't of pure frustration and aggression but one which read of admiration.

“Aww, it’s no problem. You know, I got to keep it 100 with you Lyla,” I began. “Ever since I saw you walk by my corner, I felt something that I ain’t never felt before.”

Lyla’s eyes grew wide with surprise.

“Really now?” Lyla brought her left hand over her mouth as she couldn't help but geek. “I’m sorry, I just didn't expect all of that.”

“I think you one in a million, like a diamond in the rough type shit.”

“Oh okay, nigga,” Lyla scoffed. “Now how many times you reckon you said that same line to these other heifers out here!”

“You not the others.” I smiled sincerely into those gorgeous eyes of hers, finding it hard to believe for myself what I was feeling toward this broad.

Lyla blushed slightly as her facial expression turned more stern as it finally dawned on her that I wasn’t fucking around. She pushed back a curly lock of hair as she took another sip of wine while giving me a look. I boldly got even closer and decided to say fuck it and try a move. I gently touched her right thigh which rested so delicately on the sofa. Her pores were so defined and smooth, as they made up such a delicate texture that was her skin.

She gave me this look when I first touched her leg. She took another sip of wine, and then before I knew it, she had her hands strategically placed in my lap, inching their way towards my cock. Those hazel eyes hypnotized my mind as she stared into my own eyes. Meanwhile, she intimately groped and coddled my cock from inside of my denim blue jeans. Damn! Shawty wasted no time! I feel like that’s why I fucked with her so hard, ‘cause she was so direct and to the point with everything it seemed.

As she continued to play with my member inside of my pants, I couldn't resist the temptation for a second longer, and magically found my lips coming in contact with those of homegirl’s. I could tell she was shocked at first, and there may have been part of her that wanted to resist my advance, but ultimately, our lips met and had a nice long dance with each other. Lyla’s lips were some of the softest things that I had ever had the pleasure to touch. The taste of lemon honey lip balm flooded my taste buds as I soaked up every last bit of flavor that spewed from their plushness.

Gradually, the moment was heating up, and I had low key been waiting for this since I had first laid eyes on this dime much earlier. The crazy part was that I never really expected to get nasty with her today, but it looked like fate had other plans in mind. Before I knew it, one thing led to another, and my fingers managed to creep into her shorts and effectively take them off. I started to penetrate that pussy in a circular motion with my fingers, easing my way past her cheetah print panties.

The more I played in her cunt, the wetter she got. I took two of my fingers and started to squeeze the inside of her juicy pussy, jugging them in in the shape of a trigger; ripe fluid began to drip then flow from her coochie.

“Oh!” Lyla exclaimed, “Fuck! There you go, player! There you go!”

Feeling the heat of the moment, I flung off my red graphic t-shirt and dropped that shit to the ground. I knew my body was right. I had been putting in that work in the gym, and I low key lived for moments like this, just to give all of me to someone who was equally fine.

She was digging me without a shirt on; her eyes were fixated on my 8 pack. It wasn’t too long before she started to kiss and lick my body, starting at my neck, her body right on top of mine as both of us lapped at each other on the couch. She was getting me excited with the way she was working her tongue. She was biting at my neck like it was a tootsie roll or some shit, like she could easily have been a vampire bitch if she wanted to. After she got enough of my neck, she worked her way down my body with her tongue, taking the time to lick and suck my chest; my nipples couldn't help but to become erect.

As she enjoyed the aesthetics of my body, I soaked in some of her pleasure as well. I ripped off that flimsy t-shirt that barely covered her belly button anyway. She had been teasing me all day with her wardrobe. I knew that she knew that she was hot shit, and there wasn't too much that was sexier than that.

She kissed my abs and worshipped every last ripple of muscle; I snatched off her bra, allowing her D-cup tits to graze against my abs. A few minutes later, she got on her knees and ripped off my belt, popping the button on my jeans in the process. Shawty seemed mad hungry. She took her teeth and bit on the top of my underwear as she proceeded to take them off with her mouth. As soon as my underpants were gone, her lips flawlessly puckered on to the tip of my erect cock. Then she began to give me that fire Becky. Homegirl’s throat was deep, and she worked the dick like it was a chocolate popsicle, her hands helping guide her as she gripped on its girth.

After about 10 minutes of hands down the most fire head ever, she gets up from the ground with nothing on but her panties and lays down on her stomach, her booty teasing me, aimed and perched at my face. I was still hard as fuck and saw this as an invitation. Shawty had to have wanted it as much as I did.

The next thing I knew, before I could blink, I took those panties off and began hitting it from the back. Between each thrust, my hands accompanied the rhythm of the stroke, by slapping Lyla’s ass with precision.

“Oh! Oh! Yes! Yes! Daddy! Daddy! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh sweet fuck.” Lyla wasn’t shy with expressing her content.

We went on like this for hours. I spent some serious time in that booty, and throughout the night, we transitioned to various other positions, damn near acting out the whole Karma Sutra. I hit shawty with the old school missionary, then she got a little bit of cow girl action in as she rode the fuck out of my dick; she even had me doing some new shit that I didn’t even know existed.

“Damn girl! It must be true what they say about mixed girls.” I had Lyla on the kitchen counter at this point, still putting in work deep down in her.

“What’s that? Oh, Oh!” Lyla’s eyes rolled to the back of her head.

“Yall do it best! You got the best of both worlds, girl!” I grinned as I felt Lyla’s pussy clench up again. I sped up the tempo of my stroke. I aggressively fucked her so deep you would have thought that she stole something.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh! Tarim! Tarim! Baby! OH! OH! OH!” Lyla’s pussy was the wettest that it had been all night, and that was saying something, ‘cause homegirl didn't have a single dry moment throughout the whole evening.

We finally found a resting point, after losing track of time. Lyla remained on the kitchen counter naked and partially slain from taking hours of so much good dick.

“Oh damn, baby,” she said as she tried to catch her breath. “That was probably some of the best dick that I’ve ever had, shit! I don't remember the last time I came so much.”

“Oh word?” I was playing it cool, but inside I was low-key feeling like the fucking king of the universe.

“Yes word!” Lyla smirked. “I done lost count of how many fucking times I came.”

“Don’t sweat it, yo. We had fun.” I rubbed my hand over her legs.

“And here I swore that I wasn’t going to fuck you!” Lyla slammed the palms of her hands over her face.

“Yeah, I noticed the dramatic change of heart,” I laughed.

“Oh you think you so funny, nigga.”

“I just know that I got it good, that’s all.” I gave homegirl a prideful wink.

“Okay, well now what?” Lyla’s demeanor transformed to a very serious one.

“You want me to take you home?” I asked.

“So we doing that now?” She sounded frustrated.

“Doing what?” I asked her confused.

“We just had some of the bombest sex of the damn century, and now you want to just send me on back home so you can polish your dick off to accommodate the next hoe?”

“What? Are you serious right now?” This was the part I hated the most when it came to females. “Okay, look, I ain’t trying to cause no drama, like real shit. If you want to stay over, that’s cool, but I just figured that maybe you wanted to go home.”

Lyla got down from the counter and began to put on her clothes.

“I’m getting an Uber. They’ll be here in five,” she said without hesitation as she found her shoes.

“Okay, well, stay safe, yo.” Part of me didn't want her to leave and was honestly shocked that she was so willing to depart.

“Don’t worry about me, nigga. I’m good.”

Lyla started walking to the door to make her exit.

Just as she was about to leave, she came over and gave me a hug, followed by a small peck on the cheek. Moments after that, she disappeared. The woman of my dreams had came and went. Admittedly, I felt some type of way. But five minutes later, I received a text. Surprisingly enough, it was from her. I read through all of her words in a haste.

U didn’t really think that I was going to pass up on that magical piece of cock you got did u ;) Congrats my nigga, we now in each other’s lives :)

I really good help but smile to myself. That’s just how love seemed to go in the projects!!!

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(Pages 1-18 show above.)