Hi loves. I miss yall and I know you want your ending. It will be up soon. I have something I want my Honeybees to read. I'm working on a new story for Radish. Tell me what you think and if you'll read it. Am I going in the right direction? Its very different than what I've done before. Its called Twenty-Fucking-Nine. Its about a 29 year old woman and her navigation to Woman-dom lol
Twenty-Fucking-Nine
"I fucking hate it here! Every time I wake up here, I want to go back to sleep and wake up somewhere else." Maybe that was a bit strong to say to my mother in the middle of my melt down but oh-fucking-well. I know moving back home when you're in your twenties is hard as fuck but damn, I think even Jesus himself would need a break from this bullshit. Let me break this shit down to you. My name is Nia. Nia Jordan and I'm twenty-fucking-nine living at home with my 3 siblings and my mother. We all have issues with mental illness. I'm talking big deal shit like clinical depression, anxiety, and THE BIG MUTHAFUCKA; PTSD. Now all of this and on top of struggling to survive, being black in America, and all of us are overweight. Do you remember the little egg people that one of your classmates brought to school for show and tell? You know, they are small to the largest egg. Well in my family I'm the largest gotdamn egg. Morbidly obese according to the diagram in my Doctors office. It sits next to the sculpture of a vagina. Yep, a gray vagina. Or a person playing with death according to my Doctor himself. Dr. Johany loves to guilt trip me after I tell him I've eaten cheesecake for breakfast.
"Cheesecake? I have never heard of someone eating this for breakfast." He routinely scolds me in his Indian Accent.
"Well there's a first for everything Doc." I smirked.
"Nia this is serious. You're going to die very young if you don't lose weight. This isn't a laughing matter." I stared at my hands and thought about my sister Lilly. She died at my age. Matter of fact she died exactly 30 days to her 30th birthday. It sucks to think about but for me that's a real possibility. I'm 6'0 tall and 593 pounds which is total bullshit if you ask me. I believe that scale was broken. Don't laugh at me I'm serious. That shit was flickering numbers before I stood on it and I know just 11 days ago I was 582. Granted I was dehydrated from smoking a shit load of weed. I've been eating a little bit more than before, but there is no way I put on that in 11 days. Fuck outta here!
I'm not your typical TLC 600lb life. I'm active...to an extent. I work by driving rideshare; which I can't do for more than 5 hours because my ankles swell. I still get niggas. Oh yes I'm cute. Think the black Tess Holiday. I even have a guy interested in me now. And fuck you if you think oh I'm his fetish because I'm not. At least not this time around. I've had my fair share of fetish seekers. Some good looking and all were assholes. Let's see there was Darryl who enjoyed caressing my ass at the most inappropriate times. Like, at the salad bar in the Sizzler, on a damn Sunday, when every fucking person and their blood relative decides to meet and eat all the fried chicken. The pink lemonade dispenser always fucking breaks and somebody's punkass kid decides they wanna be the REAL CRUMBSNATCHER and take all the Reese's pieces topping for the ice cream. Lil fuckers!
Where was I? Oh yea Darryl. See sex was the goal and the scheme. He stood at 6'3 athletic frame complimented by his rich dark brown skin. Oh yes! A bitch gotta get articulate when describing that fine ass nigga. He had a real deep voice that instantly got me wet. It was weird because it was a mix between Rick Ross raspy and Vin Diesel deep. Go Ahead I'll wait... Exactly. He had shoulder length dreds that made him look devastatingly handsome when they were freshly twisted.
Darryl seemed like a decent guy. He was smart educated, spiritual, and articulate. He wanted a lot for himself and he loved to talk about it if you'd listen. I'm talking all... the... gotdamn... time. He would talk for hours about himself. ON and On about his likes and dislikes and how he felt that Donald Trump was misunderstood and could do a lot for the black community. Shit that was a sign that that nigga was not to be trusted.
One night I went over his house to watch the BET awards and when New Edition came on that nigga had the nerve to think it was a go to get some. Now I'm no prude but I can't stand an entitled nigga. You know, a muthafucka that think because he put in a little bit of time and a few Applebee's appetizers that his name is engraved on my cervix. He laid on top of me with his face buried in my neck which I didn't mind. I love that cuddling shit. Besides when you're my size niggas think you're supposed to always keep them warm. "Big girls keep you warm in the winter and give you shade in the summer. Fucking her is like riding in a Hummer." Exactly. Fuckery. Anyways, New Edition were performing their hits. And I was too into it too. When "Can You Stand the Rain" came on I was ready to hit them Johnny Gill notes. Darryl traced his tongue along my cheek to my lips. And yes, it was as awkward as it fucking sounds. I kissed him on his lips hoping to give his ass some type of rhythm. "Damn girl." He smiled and lifted my shirt just high enough to showcase my titties in my cute as butterfly bra. Chile Ashley Stewart had a sale and I had to shut it down. He made his way to my breasts. Pulling them out of my bra he squeezed them in his hands. "Damn you soft baby."
"Ummm...thank you." In that moment I didn't know what he expected me to fucking say. Did he want to know my body scrub? Or if I use cocoa butter? I don't know shit.
"You so sexy damn." Darryl took my nipple in his mouth as if he had been waiting days to taste any part of my body.
"Mmmmm" I moaned. "Bite it!" I told him and he did.
"I can't wait to feel this fat pussy." Sliding his hand down my pants. The poom poom was super wet. If I was trying to act unfazed, my pussy sold me out and proved otherwise.
"About that...mmmm... Darryl I think we should hold off."
"Hold off for what?" I sighed and eased him off of me.
"Darryl I'm cool with making out and everything but I don't want to have sex." He looked at the floor silently. I was wondering if he heard me because he said nothing for a moment.
"Then what did you come over here for?"
What!?!" Maybe I heard this nigga wrong.
"What the fuck did you come over for?"
"Because you asked me to."
"Yea to fuck!"
"Well you can fuck your damn self! I'm out." I stood and grabbed my shoes and purse.
"See that's the shit I hate about you fat bitches!" I whipped around so quick I couldn't believe what he just said. "You got a good-looking nigga who has his shit together tryna give you some play but you playing games."
"I'm not playing any fucking games. I'm telling you that I'm not ready to fuck you. Which is my choice!"
"Yea but how many options do you really have?"
"Nigga I got more options around than your little Vienna sausage dick head ass punk bitch!"
"I know yo fat ass ain't talking about nobody. Bitch how many breaks did you have to take coming from the car to the door?"
"Hol' up one gotdamn minute Darryl. You know good and well yo ass live on the fourth fucking floor. Even Forrest Fucking Gump would have taken a break you stupid muthafucka!"
"Man whatever bitch get out. I know fat pussy is supposed to be the best but it ain't worth all this shit! I'll have another you by tomorrow. Get the fuck out!"
"Nigga go kill yourself and as you do think of me laughing at you!" I walked out slamming the door behind me.
"Don't slam my door!" Darryl yelled from inside.
"Nigga fuck you!" I yelled walking down the stairs. He wants to disrespect me? ME? YOU WANNA DISRESPECT ME? Okay I got something for yo ass. I made my way to my car. I took a deep breath to prevent myself from going and setting his entire building on fire. Shit I ain't walking back up them fucking stairs! Fuck that, got me feeling like walking a green mile shit. I just sighed. I'm so tired of being disrespected. I remember when I was a little girl and this boy was picking on me in school and he and his friend pushed me against a wall and took turns punching me. Yes I was jumped in kindergarten. My father came to pick me up and saw me in tears. After I told him what happened thinking he would console me, he did the opposite. My father grabbed his belt and told me if I didn't go and hand that boy then I would get a whoopin'. I learned in that moment to not only stand up for myself but to not get mad, BITCH GET EVEN! I looked across the street and three cars down I noticed Darryl's Camry parked under the tree. Now being the true resourceful big girl that I am, I stay ready so I never have to get ready. Looked in my purse and assessed the situation. Grabbed my purse and my box cutter from the glove compartment. Time for some fun.
"SHHHHHH" The air from the tire released with pressure. I cut every fucking tire open. I made sure to slice open so he couldn't seal it up. Now If I break his window that would make too much noise. Hmmmm think what can I finish this off? You wanna talk about me being fat? Okay, maybe your car needs help with its metabolism. Chile I put my Herbalife tea in his gotdamn gas tank. I couldn't put all because that shit is expensive and I ain't no fool. I need my tea for the morning. I reached in my purse and pulled out almost two handfuls of Coffee Bean Packets of sugar. You already know! I opened multiple packets at once and emptied them in the tank. I closed the tank. There. Now your car has diabetes YOU FUCK BOY!
One day these niggas will learn that fat doesn't mean pushover. If they haven't learned then I'm glad to teach em.
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WHAT DID YOU THINK BABES? I'M TRYING THIS OUT IM EXCITED TO DO SOMETHING DIFFERENT. YALL ALWAYS SUPPORT ME. WAS IT FUNNY? DO YOU LIKE NIA? KINDA GOING FOR THE BLACK BRIDGET JONES.