Page 44 of Save Room for Us

She sent crying laughing emojis, and as I awaited my answer, Milan came outside and climbed into my passenger seat.

“Is it cool if you drive me home?” she asked dryly, clearly upset, but I didn’t give a fuck.

Baby girl: They claim squirting is pee so if you can make me do that then…

My dick instantly got hard thinking about Anastazia laid out on my fucking bed, squirting after letting me lick that pussy.

“Mm.” I groaned out loud in sexual frustration as I started the car, pulling out without even answering Milan’s ass.

As I started to drive, Milan reached over to pull my dick out, moaning happily at the fact that it was hard already. Little did she know, it had nothing to do with her ass. She wasted no time taking a nigga into her mouth, slobbing on my shit perfectly.

Baby girl: I’m joking.

Me: Nah now I’m on a mission to make you squirt.

I sat back at the red light, Milan still slurping, until she noticed me texting instead of basking in her services.

“Are you the one the news claimed she was cheating with and why she wanted to kill her man?” Milan sat up, wiping her mouth.

“Nah, all that shit is lies.” I put my dick away. As good as her mouth felt, I wanted to fuck Anastazia, and unfortunately, another mouth or pussy wouldn’t satisfy my need at the moment.

“You think so?” She folded her arms. “I think she just wanted a new man because I seen the photos of her ex, and he looks like a nice man. I can’t imagine him beating, drugging, and raping her as she claims. Nope.”

Instantly irritated, I asked, “Since when do muthafuckas look like the personality they portray? I know niggas that’s all of five feet three with pigtails that will knock a nigga out and got more bodies than Ted Bundy.”

“No, I know, I was just… You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Stop always being sorry and just think before you say shit.” I shook my head.

“She’s so basic, by the way.”

“Is she?” I was over this conversation, this fucking car ride, and especially Milan.

“She is. Every time I see her, it’s giving nothing.” She laughed. “She’s pretty in that normal way. She’s no great beauty. But that’s what you niggas like… I guess.”

“Let me guess, you not basic?” I glanced her way.

Slightly caught off guard, she replied, “Well… um, no. Ask the internet, and they will tell you.” She pulled some gloss from her bag and covered her lips.

“You ever think a bitch could be basic due to how she think and carries herself? Or the shit she doing with her life?”

“I guess so, yeah.” She looked my way briefly.

“You got a boutique that can’t even send out orders, but she got several nursing degrees. You gotta have ya ass out to get niggas to pay you any attention, and all she gotta do is walk by, maybe smile if she want to. Yo’ five-year plan is having a baby by a nigga with clout so he can take care of you, while hers involves another degree and making sure her daughter is set.”

“Asif, I didn’t mean?—”

“Nah, you did.” I pulled over in front of her building. “The biggest thing, though, is how basic yo’ thought process is in comparison to hers. You almost thirty, still thinking a fat ass and pretty face can’t make you basic. You got that fat ass, you got that face, and I still don’t fuck with you like that.”

“I’m sorry!” She sobbed.

“I ain’t mean to make you cry, love, but understand some shit. Don’t you ever call that woman basic in my presence. And if you do it behind my back, make sure word don’t get back to me.

“You jealous and you hatin’. That’s normal ’cause yo’ feelings is involved, no matter how much you say they ain’t. But I ain’t the nigga that’s gon’ allow you to disrespect anything or anyone I got the utmost respect for.”

“I get it. Again, I didn’t mean it.” She touched my shoulder. “Come upstairs and I will show you.”

“Nah, I’m on some other shit tonight, M.”

---