CHAPTER XIV

20:20

Jay Miller, aka "Blue Boy," was in his room in his mom's apartment with his mom, his shorty and his little sisters. Him and shorty were making out while his mom was watching t.v. in the living room while braiding his little sister's hair. His t.v. was on too but he was trying to fuck tonight. She pushed his hand away when he tried to put it up her skirt.

"What's up, Cassie?" Blue Boy asked, befuddled. "You ain't tryna fuck?" She leaned back on the pillows and crossed her legs.

"My period came today," Cassandra replied. He stood up and looked at the calendar on the wall, where he had recently been recording the dates her period normally came. They had secretly been trying to make a baby because Cassandra had opened up to Jay about being brutally sexually assaulted by her dad's coworker a decade ago and was afraid she might not be able to have children. This was the reason her father was still in prison, having beaten his white coworker to death when he found out what had happened a couple of times. That revelation to Jay had been a few months ago.

Since then, Jay had started tracking her menstrual cycle and told her he wanted her to have his baby. So far though: no dice; it was seeming to Jay like Cassandra might really not be able to have children. He had been coming in her almost every other day for weeks now. What Jay didn't know was that she was already pregnant and was waiting for the perfect time to tell him.

"Hm," Jay murdered, studying her cycle. "That's strange, baby. You not due for your cycle at least another week." Cassandra felt sorry for Blue and wanted to burst out laughing when he took a pen to jot down a note about this newest development.

"Sometimes it does that, baby."

"That's obvious to a duck," he replied testily, finishing the calendar notation and sighing resignedly.

"You want some head?" He spun around with such a look of surprise on his face that she had to laugh.

"Hell yeah, baby," he accepted. No sooner were the words out of his mouth than his pants and boxers were already down at his ankles. She kneeled down in front of him and started sucking his large and uncircumcised dick. It took little time for his clean shaven dick to straighten up. Her mouth working its magic, Blue Boy's manhood started dripping small amounts of pre-come. She swallowed those without a thought. She was fondling his balls and nearing the five minute mark when she started twisting his wet cock with her other hand. Her head game was mean and she could swallow almost his entire shaft. She continued with the fellatio, neck moving rhythmically back and forth. Then she pause to gently nibble at and tongue-tease the tip of his dick for a little while which always drove him crazy!

Ten minutes in and Blue Boy began moaning softly, holding the back of her neck and softly pumping into her marvelously warm and inviting mouth. Cassandra managed to get eighty to ninety percent of his phallus into her mouth before gagging and holding her position. The sight of the length of his dick disappearing into her mouth made him go cuckoo for Coco Puffs, as the commercial went. He pushed his dick into her mouth, making her gag. Even that gagging sound was so lovely in the ears of men: an opera of fellatio.

He started face fucking her until she had to keep her hands on his hips to keep him from destroying her throat. It was a phenomenal event, sucking dick. Women had so much power over men when it came to this sexual act. It should have been an Olympic sport. There were men who were actually proud that no matter how long they got head, they couldn't ejaculate. Blue Boy wasn't one of those men. His was a hot dog in a warming oven - it was bound to explode. Chills trickled down his spine and his knees buckled.

Cassandra knew Blue Boy like her Fendi bag: intimately. When he started to go all atremble like that he usually thought she couldn't tell when he was about to come. He was usually always wrong on that score.

He tried to put his whole phallus down her throat as the chills mounted. She held onto the backs of his thighs looking up at Blue in increasing ecstasy. He couldn't fit his entire dick in her mouth, but that was okay. He unloaded a thin and continuous squirting stream of come directly into and down her throat. There wasn't too much come this time but she still would have swallowed it to the very last drop, as she did now, lubricating his dick with it and then licking it off. His legs trembled and then she finally removed his limp biscuit out of her warm mouth, sucking on just the tip again and swallowing the come runoff.

His stomach shivered and he bent down to pick up his boxers and designer jeans. She got up to go to the bathroom and wash up as he zipped his fly, watching her slender figure and round ass sashay out of the room. He briefly thought about the Black chick built like Cassie he had tried to holla at earlier at the McDonald's on 125th and Lex. Shorty was slim and dark skinned with large but not over large, round and perfectly pert titties. And a perfectly rounded ass. If not as huge as those of a bunch of other fine women nowadays.

When shorty had ignored him, he had reached for her and she stepped away from him. The "oh's" of derision from his crew angered him. Seeing her walk to the driver side of the Tahoe directly out front, he hurried to try to help her but she just put her food onto the hood of the full-size SUV. He reached for her and squeezed her nice ass this time, and she went off, talking filthy to him and attracting the attention of passersby. He just laughed, enraging her even more, so she threw her food at him. The food and juice spilled on him and some of his crew, who were in full hype man mode. That's when he stepped forward and smacked her. She had held her stinging and swelling face while looking at him with loathing. He had been deeply ashamed of slapping her like that but there was a small crowd and he would be damned if a bitch threw food on him in public and he ain't do shit.

No retreat, no surrender.

But why had he grabbed her ass, though? Could he not control himself? If his mom or, God forbid, his dad found out what had hap-

"Jay, can you go to the store for me, baby?" asked his mother, Charlene Miller, from the living room.

"Sure, ma," he replied. He grabbed a hoodie and threw it on as he left his room and decided he was wrong for touching shorty like that earlier. If someone grabbed his mom or any of his female family members like that, what would he do? He asked his mom what she wanted but wouldn't take her money. Cassandra caught him on his way out and asked if she could go with him.

"Nah, it's cool, baby. Go rest for round two. I'll be right back." She went back to his room and lay on the bed. But suddenly, something didn't feel right! Cassandra thought about calling him back or rushing to go with him but he would think she was stupid or being too "clingy."

Blue Boy made it downstairs and gave daps to some other Crip niggas in front of just one tiny section of Johnson projects at 110th and 3rd Avenue. He crossed the street to the habibi corner store and started buying up shit. That was when two niggas in deep and dark hoodies with them stupid ass COVID masks playing dice just to the side of the store walked into the bodega just as Blue Boy made it to the counter. One of them pulled out what looked like a Desert Eagle and pointed it at the store owner who, though behind a thick plastic partition, just knew any round coming out of that gun would shatter that partition like brittle ice. The store owner's arms and face went straight up.

"Don't fuckin' move and don't fuckin' look at our faces," said the nigga with the Desert Eagle. Habibi nodded as best he could with his face to the ceiling. Meanwhile the other nigga also pulled out a gun and pointed it at a frightened Blue Boy. The first gunman with the .45 called out to the few patrons in the store to get on the floor, arms outstretched - it was a small store and you could see damn near the entire store from up front. The patrons complied.