Brooklyn Bombshells: Part 1

“Not too much, just five stacks.”

“Five stacks?”

“Five thousand dollars.”

She was quite taken aback by the amount. Five thousand was nothing to sneeze at.

“That’s a lot, baby.”

“I know, but I promise I’ll pay you back. I really need this. I got lawyers to take care of,” he lied.

She heaved a sigh and relented. “Okay. I’ll give it to you. But with one condition.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“I need for you to sign a promissory note,” she said.

A promissory note? Inside, he was cracking the fuck up. What the fuck good was a piece of paper? He didn’t have a job or credit, and he never planned on going legit. If he lived a long life then it would be a jobless life.

“I promise,” he said.

She smiled.

He was now hungry for something else. God kissed Kym fervently and threw her against the kitchen table, turned her around, ripped away her panties, and thrust his hard dick inside of her from the back. Kym gasped as God fucked her. The feeling of his big dick inside her, filling and stretching her, it was the way she liked it.

“You like this dick?” he teased. “Tell me you love this dick.”

“I love your dick,” Kym panted.

He entangled his fist around her hair and grabbed her side and continued to fuck the pretty bitch doggy-style. Their sexual movement forcibly shook the table. She could feel his muscles clench and release inside of her as he continued to thrust. It wasn’t long before she came, and he—breathing hard and excited—came too.

It was what he needed, sex—something to get his mind off the troubles in the city. And Kym happily gave him whatever he wanted.

Later that week, after another long and hard fuck, God was showering while Kym was tidying up. God’s cell phone rang in the bedroom. He couldn’t hear it due to the running water, but Kym heard it ring several times and curiosity got the better of her. A picture of a pretty, light-skinned female with red hair popped up and the name read: Charlie B.

She gladly answered his phone.

Charlie was stunned to hear a bitch on the phone. “Bitch, who the fuck is this?” Charlie bickered.

“Bitch, who the fuck is this calling my man’s phone?” Kym retorted.

“Your man?”

“Yes, my man,” Kym repeated sternly.

The two women started to argue, and Kym made it a point to tell Charlie how God had just gotten finished eating her pussy and fucking her sideways, and now he was taking a shower.

The information infuriated Charlie. “Bitch, you don’t fuckin’ know who ya fuckin’ wit’! I’ll fuckin’ kill you, bitch!”

“Fuck you, bitch!” Kym retorted.

But Kym, coming to her senses after briefly allowing Charlie to bring her out of her character, went on to explain how she would never fight over a man. She indicated that Charlie must have a low IQ to match her low self-esteem to fight over a man. The remark was a low blow toward Charlie, and it started to fuck with her head. Where she was from, everyone fought over their dudes.

“Kym, where you at?” she heard God calling her from the shower.

Kym smirked, and said, “You hear that, bitch? That’s him calling me right now to join him in the shower. Bye bitch.”

Kym hung up, leaving Charlie dumbfounded by the entire ordeal.