Page 2 of He Snatched My Soul

For the rest of the night, we popped bottles, got lifted, tossed a few racks at some strippers, and partied until around four in the morning. Everyone was having such a good time, niggas ain’t want to go home. Omar had to shut the club down and kick people out. A night was definitely had, and it showed when I woke up the next afternoon with a pounding headache. I was so fucked up, I didn’t even remember how the hell I got home.

Still feeling the effects of all the drinking had done the night before, I headed to my parents’ house for Sunday dinner. I knew my mom was going to flip because I was late. After getting up around noon, I fixed a sandwich, took two Tylenol, went back to bed, and tried to sleep off my hangover. When I woke back up, it was around four-thirty in the evening, and dinner was at five.

I was pulling up at my parents’ house at six o’clock, prepared to hear her and my father’s mouth. Stepping out of my Lamborghini Revuelto, a red Convertible pulled up the driveway and parked behind my ride. When the passenger door opened, and some white boy stepped out dressed in a gray suit that looked two sizes too small, my face balled up.

Who the hell was this opp-looking muthafucka coming to my parents' crib? I thought as he walked around to the passenger side, opened the door, and some bad bitch stepped out. She had on an off-the-shoulder maxi dress, and I could see baby girl was thick as fuck! This dude had to be her driver. Ain’t no way this Ben Affleck-looking nigga was her man.

That thought went out the window when he placed a kiss on her cheek, and she blushed. Ain’t that a bitch. When she turned and walked towards me, I noticed she was the chick from the club that curved me. A nigga was confused about why she washere at my folk's place. Her man ain’t even wait to see if she got inside before he hopped in his ride and dipped.

“So we meet again, baby,” I smirked.

Stopping in her tracks, she lifted her Gucci shades from her eyes, with her nose hiked in the air. “Are you stalking me? I have mace,” she threatened and reached inside her purse.

“Naw, sweetheart. You must be stalking me. This is my people's spot. If you are, a nigga don’t mind. You can stalk me anytime.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she turned and made her way towards the house. Like the creep that I am, I watched that ass bounce while gripping my dick.

Baby girl was too gorgeous to be this stuck-up. She had her long jet-black hair in an updo, with a few strands hanging on both sides. Her golden-brown complexion matched her honey-colored eyes. She had some sexy, plumped lips that had me imagining them wrapped around my dick. Not to mention, she was thicker than a cold pot of grits, with hips for days. I wouldn’t say baby girl was a BBW, but she had some weight on her. I peeped the small pudge in her mid-section. A nigga like me didn’t discriminate. Big or small, I’ll gladly lay my forehead against that fupa while I eat the pussy, and that’s saying a lot because I don’t put my mouth on bitches.

Jogging up the porch steps behind her, I leaned close to her and whispered in her ear, “Ain’t no way that white boy hitting that right. All that ass, and he ain’t slap that fat muthafucka and watched it jiggle as you walked off. Yeah, he ain’t for you, baby.” I was about to push my hard dick against her ass, but I wasn’t trying to catch a charge. She looks like she would call the pigs on a nigga.

“Excuse me?” She looked at me with her face twisted.

“You heard me. What are you doing with that Ben Affleck-looking muthafucka? You are too fine. Ol’ boy must got bread.”She ain’t look like your typical gold digger bitch, but you never can tell nowadays. Even hoes go to church.

“Fuck you, asshole! I’m sure you don’t know anything about how to treat a woman.” She glared at me through slitted eyes.

“You talk like you know me or something, shorty.”

“I know your type. You the kind to fuck and duck. Now, can you back off of me?” She placed her small, manicured hands on my chest and pushed me back as Ms. Paulette, my parents' long-time housemaid, opened the door and greeted both of us with a smile.

“Boy, I’m beginning to think you like getting under your parents' skin. Get your butt in here! You’re late.”

“I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t,” I chuckled, kissing her on the cheek and stepping inside.

Ms. Paulette had been with our family since I was fifteen. We didn’t look at her as the help; we loved her as if she was family and treated her as such.

“And hello, Ms. Modesty.”

Modesty. So that was her name.

She pulled baby girl into a firm hug as they exchanged pleasantries. That let me know she wasn’t a stranger and that she was familiar with my people.

After securing the locks, Ms. Paulette led us through the living room of my childhood home and into the main dining room, where my family was already seated. My parents occupied both heads of the table. I greeted my mother first, then my father, before giving my brother, Julius, some dap. I could feel my father's heated gaze on me as I went and sat across from my brother.

“Modesty, dear. I’m so glad that you could make it.” My mom stood to greet her. They shared a few air kisses before my mom directed her to sit in the seat next to her, which gave me the perfect view since it was across from me.

“Thanks for inviting me. Oh, and I love what you did with the dinner room.” Modesty smiled, showing off her pretty-ass dimples, and my dick twitched in my slacks.

“Thank you. I was tired of looking at that brown color. I think the beige just gives it a pop.”

Ms. Paulette started fixing the plates, and I couldn’t wait to eat. She made my favorite: greens, fried chicken, mac and cheese, and her bomb-ass potato salad.

“Son, this is Modesty. She is the operations manager over at Armstrong Hotel and Casino, here in Melville. She also handles all the grand openings of all the Armstrong businesses.”

“What’s good, shorty? I’m Bless. We met briefly yesterday.” I winked.

“Is Bless some sort of street name?”

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