“I prefer white grape―White Owls only though.” she said, sealing the blunt with a teasing lick. She passed it to Benji giving him the green first hit. “That’s love….” Benji thought. He took a long drag and attempted to pass it to Ashley but she declined; choosing rather to mount him and draw her hit from his exhale―a sultry shotgun. His cock sprang to life. She exhaled blowing a smoke ring for accent.
“I’m going to smoke a Black and Mild and make
breakfast.” She popped off his lap and strode towards the kitchen; her
hips showing Benji no mercy. He followed―no he stalked her―into the kitchen and continued his
anecdote in his rapid, breakneck fashion; only pausing long enough to haul a
bit more smoke into his lungs. Other than the occasional ‘Hmmmm..’ or “Damn!’
Ashley contributed nothing to the conversation. She just went right along
smoking her B&M and cooking.
Benji prattled on about his tragic, self-fulfilled prophesy
of a life and Ashley just listened―a perfect outlet―while flipping pancakes and
frying bacon so thick it should come with bone. It wasn’t long before she
dropped a bomb of a plate in front of Benji―stifling his bitchery. She
poured him a glass of juice, and rescued the now dying blunt.
“Damn, this is all ashes. With your weed wasting
ass!” she said, tapping almost 3 inches of ash from the blunt. “Like I got
money to be wasting weed! You for real talk too much B. My apartment―no space just smoked most of this weed because
your ass is too busy talking about a bitch who clearly doesn’t want you, so
I’ll tell you what―” she said, disregarding his averted gaze. “―I am going
smoke what little of this blunt is left in my room while I rub my pussy; so when
you are done being a little bitch, finish your plate, brush your teeth and come
to my room and I’ll see about fixing you.” she said with deadpan sincerity. She
put out her Black & Mild and walked away; sparking a fire that returned
life to both the blunt, and Benji’s heavy heart.
She was a stunner. She wore a slightly wrinkled gray
tee with her name embroidered on the back, and what began life as a shell pink
pair of panties had been completely devoured by her meaty and generous ass. She
wore nothing more. Albeit no more was required; as by by Benji’s standards, she
was overdressed. The stereo came on. Lauren Hill and D’angelo’s voices filled
the entire apartment.
“See I don't need no alcohol. Your love makes me feel
ten feet tall. Without it I'd go through withdrawal. 'Cause nothing even
matters at all. “
Benji began singing along as he maxed. “I wonder
when black people decided ‘maxed’ was an apt replacement for ‘eat’?” he thought to himself. Then,
an epiphany smashed through his psyche like a juggernaught from the land of duh.
“Benji! Fam! You dumb as fuck. You just won $100,000,
a thick thick thiiiiiiiiiiiiiick ass broad just smoked you up, made you
breakfast, and is in the bedroom rubbing her puss’ right now―and probably being
forced to roll another blunt because your dumb ass talks more than you
smoke―not to mention you are sitting here thinking about Veronica Dauterive’s
bourgeois ass who has made it clear she wants nothing to do with your thirsty
ass by sucking her exes dick and telling you about it―so my question to you now
is are you FUCKING GAY OR YOU ARE YOU SMASHING THAT BITCH? NIGGA YOU
WINNING! DUH?!” he thought.
Or rather it seemed like himself. Who could tell these
days. Things had been odd as of late. He sometimes felt like a completely
different person. It all began with realizing several of his closest friends
were ghosts; and that he was a highly improbable member of
a minuscule number of humans who could actually see them.
“I wonder when black people started saying smash
instead of fuck I mean―”
“Are you fucking talking to yourself?” Ashley asked
“No.”
“Ok, I rolled another blunt you owe me a sawbuck.”
“On my way. Wait, you are the only white girl I know
who says sawbuck”
“Ha! Hurry up or I’ll smoke it all.
Benji dropped his fork, drained his glass and headed
to the bathroom. He fumbled around the cabinets looking for mouthwash. It was a
tiny bathroom and various items were strewn everywhere, Girls are slobs. He thought. He found a bottle of
Listerine, half assed rinsed and ran to the front room. He found his backpack
in the corner, and grabbed a few rolls of cash―all C-notes. When he arrived to the bed room he
found Ashley drowning in pillows; her right hand stroking her peach and her
left sporting a fresh blunt. She exhaled. The smoke billowed; catching a ride
on her moan. Benji snapped the rubber bands and tossed the cash into the air
hoping to make it rain cash, however the ceiling fan―apparently feeling left
out of the party―decided to assist.
**CKKKRRRRRRRCCCHCHCHCHCH**
What the fan didn’t damage (Money and property alike)
rained over Ashley’s bed. “Bitch, have you not heard what happened? You need to
Google me! I owe you a sawbuck? A sawbuck aint shit to me!” Benji raged. He was
overcompensating, hoping to distract her from how stupid of a move that was.
“You know what? At first I was like, ‘I’m a slap the shit out of him…’ and part
of me still wants to and I should be extremely offended right now, however, the
other part of me is like ‘That is $5600.' so right now I just decided I can’t
even be mad at you.” she said. In a short span of time, Ashley had already
stacked every single bill near her, and had did so without putting out the
weed, or Benji even noticing. She resumed masturbating as if he wasn't in the
room. Her panties were soaked. Money tended to have that affect on her.
“There is no way you knew that was that was exactly
how much I had!” Benji objected “Negro please! I counted that shit before your
dumb ass threw the money. Why are you showing out anyway? You know you can get
it right?” she said, speeding her stroke.
“If it’s like that―” he
paused to remove his clothes. “―then bitch you need to call off work―no fuck
that―call off life!” he said.
“I bet you ain’t shit. You probably all talk.” she
replied
Benji wanted to violate this broad. Every part of her
was perfect in his eyes. Her hair was so thick she may as well have been
black―with the exact same sentiment applying to her ass. She had pulled her
panties aside and given him a full view of his future. She really was a perfect
outlet. He decided to plug in. She was already soaked.
