Friends Are Foes 2

By: Natalie Sade

My mother was too old to try to manage them. I have to do better, I told myself as I rolled my blunt. As soon as the smoke hit the air, I felt Damon turn over in the bed. We had been together for about 6 months. Our relationship wasn’t perfect, but most days I felt like he was all I had.

“Pass that shit,” he said to me. I obeyed and handed him the blunt.

“What you was crying for?” her asked. I didn’t think he heard me. Obviously he had been awake longer than I thought. “Andrea?” he asked.

“Yea, and I want my kids,” I told him.

“Take yo’ ass over there and get ‘em,” he said.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged.

“What don’t you know?”

“They seem happy with my mama.”

“Nah, they seem happy when they around yo’ crazy ass. They’d rather be yelled at by you, than loved on by anyone else,” he told me.

It was true, I had a bit of an anger problem. But I would never hurt my babies. Sometime I just got so frustrated with them. I would tell them to do simple things, and they would act like they didn’t understand English. That shit always sent me into a rage.

“Man, go get yo’ kids.” Damon said again pushing me out of the bed. When I went to get up, he pulled me back down. “Gimme some pussy first.” He said pulling down my pajama shorts. I rolled on top of him and sat down on his dick. Sex with Damon was cool, but I always did all the work.

The problem with that was, I never really got a chance to come. At first I was about to quit his ass, but there was something about him that I liked. Maybe it was the fact that he was always here. I don’t know, but I didn’t want to lose him. I bounced up and down on him as he held on to my hips.

“Damn, girl,” he panted. I slowed down, because it was actually feeling good to me. I didn’t want him to bust before I got off.

“Kiss my titties,” I coached. He didn’t move. I started to keep riding him, but decided against it. If he couldn’t please me, I wasn’t about to please him. Fuck it!

“What are you doing?” He questioned when I got up.

“You in this shit for self,” I said. I walked over to the dresser to grab some clothes. I was about to bathe and go get my kids.

“Fuck you mean, I’m in it for self?” he asked. He was standing before me stroking his dick. I guess he thought he was about to talk me into getting back in the bed.

“I said, ‘kiss my titties’, nigga. Why you think I said that?” I asked. He didn’t reply, so I continued to school him. “Because that’s what the fuck I like. This shit is pointless if we don’t both get off. I get on top, most of the time, because that’s what you like. I talk shit while I’m riding your dick, because that’s what the fuck you like. I asked you to suck my titties, because that’s what I like. You so focused on you, that you can’t do that one task. Even though I’m doing every-fucking-thing else!” I raged.

“You don’t be nutting,” he asked looking dumbfounded.

“Hell no!” I screamed throwing my hands up.

“My bad, baby. Come here,” he said pulling me back to the bed.

“Damon, listen…” I really didn’t feel like doing this shit no more. He laid me on the bed and got on top. He rarely ate my pussy, so I was surprised when I saw him heading south. He made his way between my legs and started munching on my pussy.

“Oh shit, baby.” I cooed as he twirled his tongue inside of me. After I came, he laid beside me and pulled me on top. This time, as I rode his dick, he kissed and massaged my titties. Did I come a second time? No, but it’s cool because at least he tried.


“What you doing here, KeKe?” I looked up, and my mother was standing in the doorway of the washroom. You would think common sense would tell her that I was washing clothes, but she had never had much of that. She had book smarts but that’s all. She had her Master’s degree in Education. That allowed her to teach at a private school and also teach classes at the local college.

It was ironic, she taught everyone else things they needed to know to get ahead in life, but she had never taught me shit. Never had time to, hell, she never made time.

“I texted you and told you that my washer went out,” I said rolling my eyes. I was facing the dryer as I took my clothes out, so she didn’t see that, but I know she heard the distain in my voice.

“Okay, and I told you to come to my job and get the money,” she said. ‘Come to my job’ that was code for you’re never supposed to come to my house.

“I didn’t have time. I’m finishing up school and doing my internship,” I reminded her. She hated for me to come to her house. She couldn’t wait for my 18th birthday, so she could put me out without people looking at her sideways.

“Well, let me write you a check,” she said heading into the kitchen. That was our arrangement. She gave me an allowance each month, on top of paying all my bills, and I pretended that her husband didn’t look at me like a fresh piece of meat.

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