anytime, anyplace.

beyond the surface

“Jahsynt why is you moaning? I’m not stupid. Don’t tell me you’re…you’re…are you?”

“…am I what?”

“Uhnnn, OMG you are so fucking nasty for calling me and jacking off in my ear!”

I go silent, half because I don’t have nothing to say to her and half because I’m currently getting a wave of pleasure. Sadly, nowhere near bussin.

“Jah?”

“Yeah…”

“You not gone say nothing?”

Lowkey she’s starting to piss me off but I know way better than to make my irritation known. “Just relax,”

“…fine.” I can tell that she’s agitated with me and probably won’t talk to me like I want her to, but I’m not turned off and my mind is still dedicated to getting this nut. My stroke speed up and my arm is getting tired but truthfully, a nigga don’t give a fuck. I sigh heavily, growing impatient with every passing second. My temperature is rising like I’m bouta sweat and I keep going, going faster and all the sudden the shit intensifies outta nowhere and shiiiiit oh shiiit—a long stream of cum expels from my dick and I gasp loudly from the all-consuming pleasure. And seemingly, just as soon as it came, the pleasure is over. Catching my breath, I think, damn now I gotta clean this shit up.

“Hello,” I say, surprised she’s been silent for so long. She doesn’t respond so I repeat myself. This time, the response I get is from the dial tone.

 *

(Evangeline.)

After going back to sleep, I wake up at eleven in the morning after an extra six hours of sleep and surprisingly, my mom is downstairs cooking. I was so stressed that I didn’t even realize that today, Saturday would be the first day of Spring Break. This is like the first time I’ve seen her in about five days and she looks a little different—her dreads are braided up and she’s fresh-faced, no makeup, none of that. Rare.

“Mommy where have you been!” my reaction is automatic; anguished and authentic.

“Hey, honey…” she says in an incredibly light voice. “I was waiting for you to wake up.”

“Where were you? Everything has been crazy without you! How could you—“

“Wake your sister up and I’ll tell you both together.”

I groan, roll my eyes and proceed down up the stairs to Genesis’s room. I love my baby sister but since she now thinks she’s grow she has been way too much for me. Never before have I witnessed someone change so much in two weeks’ time. Ever since Tyrian popped her cherry, she thinks she’s hot shit but when she discovers that he’s only using her, she gone be crying on my shoulder and apologizing about it all. Typical baby-thot antics. Her wild dark hair is splayed over her pillow and I lowkey envy the texture. We both have long hair, but mines is a little more coarse than hers. Her curl pattern is like 3B or some shit and mine is 4A. I love my curls, but hers are just so much more manageable and she takes the shit for granted, always talking about how she wants to cut her hair. Or wanted to cut it before she pulled Tyrian.

“What?” she says groggily, apparently awake. “I don’t want none of your nasty eggs and sausage, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Bitch, please.” I hiss. “Momma’s home and she wants to talk to us. Get your ass up.”

“What? MOMMA is here?”

“Yeah. I guess you forgot we had one.” I roll my eyes and exit her room.