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I went to the nightstand and pulled the drawer open to grab a bare skin Magnum. She cocked her head to the side, looking at me.

“After all these years of fucking, we still gotta use a condom?”

I knew she was mad, but I didn’t give a fuck if we had been fucking for a thousand years. I wasn’t fucking her raw, and she knew that shit.

“You know I’m on birth control, and you the only nigga digging in this pussy,” she finished, but that shit went in one ear and out the other.

“I don’t give a fuck if we been fucking since 350 BC, I don’t trust nobody’s pussy enough to go in raw. Nah, you want some dick or not because we got other shit to do?”

I hated to talk to her like that. This wasn’t how we were with each other, but I knew the day we had ahead of us, and Iwasn’t trying to delay shit. Plus, I was already tired. She rolled her neck and lay back. I was gon’ give her head, but she fucked that up with her mouth. After I pulled the condom down my dick, I grabbed her ankles and spread them wide as they could go. I kneeled on the bed, dick already hard and ready for her wet pussy. Her shit was glistening with her juices, so I knew she was waiting for me. My eyes scanned the room, trying not to look at her pussy because I knew I would bust on contact. I rubbed my tip up and down her clit as she moaned my name.

“Calliope, please put it in.” Her head rose from the bed, and we locked eyes.

Tears formed in her shit. She was getting emotional, and I didn’t understand why, but I ignored it.

I slid inside her inch by inch until I filled her up. I stroked her slowly and long until I hit some shit that made her jump. The tip of my dick jumped, too.

“Fuck, Klarity.” I raised her feet to meet my mouth and bit her big toe. I surprised myself. I didn’t suck toes. She liked that shit. Her pussy got wetter. I moved faster.

“Ummmm, fuck, just like that. Hold my feet just like that. Harder. Faster. Deeper. Use that combo, baby.”

I hated when she told me how to fuck her, but I kept my mouth closed because I knew I was about to nut. My dick got bigger as she started fucking me back. Her walls contracted around my girth as my nut rose to the tip of my dick, and I almost lost my mind.

“Suck it out,” I groaned as I felt my shit about to spit. I pulled out of her swiftly, and she sat up.

I pulled the condom off, and she took me into her warm, wet mouth. She used her hands to bob up and down on the rest of my dick until I emptied my seeds down her throat. I pulled my dick out of her mouth, making a popping sound. I got dizzy as I backed away from her.

Klarity was home for me. She knew how to handle me when I wanted to kill the world, but she also understood when I didn’t want to be touched. She knew how to wake me when I was having a nightmare and rock me back to sleep like a baby until my nightmares went away. Her head had that effect on me more than her pussy did. She sat there staring at me, wiping the nut from the creases of her mouth. She still had an attitude.

“What the fuck is wrong now, Klarity? Damn.” Her little attitude was working my fucking nerves.

“Nothing. I just don’t understand how the fuck you cannot remember what the fuck happened last night.” She was still on this shit when I had better shit to do than to sit there and try to remember what the fuck happened.

I bent down and pulled my boxers and jeans up. I was pissed off but wouldn’t show it. I had a mean poker face, and she wasn’t about to get under my skin; I wouldn’t let her. I stared down into her eyes, not blinking.

“Okay, this what the fuck I remember. I went to the club with Hellcat and Hollygrove. I had one fucking drink. That’s the last thing I remember before I woke up to two bitches lying naked on each side of me. I knew I fucked them. I had a condom hanging from my dick. You wanted to know what I remember, so there you go. That’s what I remember, but I don’t recall fucking them, so they fucked me,” I told her, not missing a word.

I had no fucking reason to lie. I didn’t believe in lies anyway; I would rather hurt a person with the truth than pacify them with a lie that I couldn’t keep up.

“Damn,” was all she could say. She knew how I moved and also that I was honest.

“How the fuck you don’t remember fucking two bitches, Calliope?” The way she said my name, I knew this conversation wasn’t over, but I would wrap this shit up quick.

“Look, I told you what the fuck happened. It’s up to you to fucking believe me or not, just like it’s up to you to stay in this relationship or not. I told you what the fuck I remember, and now the shit is over. I’m about to hop in the shower, so I can join the crew at the second line, then I have a family meeting with my parents.”

That made her antennas go up. They knew her from when we were younger, but they didn’t know we were together or even fucking. It wasn’t their business. They knew I lived my life very privately, but they were in for a surprise tonight because she would be riding with me all day.

“You sure you ready for all that?” she asked in her whiny voice.

“You must have forgotten who the fuck I am. I live the way I wanna live. You riding or not?” I asked.

She stood from the bed and followed me to the bathroom to shower.

I washed her, and she washed me, then we hopped out of the shower. We would eat out there because we didn’t have time to cook. We both had an image to uphold, and I knew it would take hours for us to get dressed. Klarity had to put all that pancake number five on her face, and that shit took forever. That’s the one thing I hated about her. She didn’t need that shit but insisted on wearing it like a second layer of skin. I knew New Orleans was coming out today because this was the biggest second line in the city. It was our culture, and we owned it.

Food vendors, DJs, Indians with handcrafted feathers, and different tribal designs covering their bodies. Niggas were gonna have their choppas by their side for protection and dressed to perfection in their Sunday best. Bitches were going to be walking around with fucking bathing suits on with stiletto heels like it was a fucking outfit, looking for attention from hood rich niggas. I couldn’t hate because I was once in the niggas’ shoes, wantingto be a part of something so bad and didn’t even know I was part of something bigger than the streets while I was being nurtured in the womb. I didn’t really want to be in this type of life. That’s why I kept a low profile, but Melph wanted my presence felt, so I had to step out today. Plus, Hellcat lived for the attention, and I was my brother’s keeper. Hollygrove was his right hand, but I had my own back unless I needed my brother.

I dressed in my black Inia Key Closet jeans with red guerrilla and tiger designs of Swarovski crystals down my left leg. I had my shit custom-made. When I showed my face, I always went extreme, so they knew who the fuck I was. Those jeans were paired with a red Gucci T-shirt and my custom Guerrilla Mafia bomber jacket over my shoulders. Matching sneakers created my look. All our jackets were custom-made by a boutique that we paid yearly to keep our shit right. My color was red because it exuded power, silence, passion, and authority. My silence could kill a nigga or bitch. I didn’t speak too much in the streets. I didn’t have to. My presence was enough.