Alarmed, I looked around. I had never been put out of a car before. On the Turnpike.

Ten miles from home.

With no buses running up here.

"You can't be serious. I'm not..."

He opened the door, jumped out and ran to my side. His dreads swinging. Opening the door, he took me by the arm and snatched me out, pushing me down the median.

I tumbled to the bottom.

Luckily it wasn't a far fall. I was in shock at his attack. He didn't give a f***k. He was shaking his head with his hand on his hip.

He pulled on the black and mild cigar. Laughing.

"When you learn my favorite color and goals call me. Until then. I am putting you on a schedule when it comes to this d***k. If I could write you a letter and open up to you then muthaf***ker learn about me."

He hopped in his car, put in reverse and backed up. When he had enough turning room, he illegally turned to the opposite side of the Turnpike and left me.

I was madder than a b***h!

I was walking along the Turnpike, mad as f***k. I blew Bryson's phone up, leaving him nasty messages.

He text me a few minutes later.

CALM DOWN, B***H! THAT'S STILL MY ASS. GET TO KNOW ME LIKE I KNOW YOU.

I turned the phone off. I was screaming into the sky and throwing a closed fist.

Calling him every name in the book. It took me an hour to walk home.

When I did approach my crib his car was in my parking lot. He was looking all sexy, sitting on the Hood, smoking a blunt, blasting GET THIS Patti Labelle's You Are my Friend.

I forgave him instantly.

But I didn’t make it easy for him. My legs felt like they were about to fall off and my heart was pounding. My draws were wet with sweat and my toes felt like they were sawed off.

“How was the walk?” he asked, grinning, his eyes sparkling.

I walked up to him. My house keys were on the trunk by him. I scooped them up.

He reached out to brush my cheek and I slapped his hand so hard his nuts slapped together.

I walked past him.

“Yo. What the f*ck. I know you heard me. You’re hitting me, b***h?”

I walked up to my door, yawning. I was tired.

He was pissed. Ask me do I give a sh*t. “YO!”

I opened the door and walked inside.

“YOU IGNORING ME?”

I slammed the door.

He was pounding on it. He hated when his control was compromised. Well he should have thought about that before he kicked me out the car.

Was he crazy? What if I was killed or raped? He thought nothing of me. And why? Because I was sprung on his d*ck? Well stop sliding it all up in me and we wouldn’t have that problem.

“Bi*ch open the goddamn door!”

I opened the blinds, taking off my pants. Leaving on my shirt. I kicked my pants and draws by the couch. The AC felt cool against my wet skin.

He was at the window. D*ck hard as hell. I turned and walked to the bathroom, making sure this ass bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce.

He’s pounding on the window.

“I want my p*ssy!”

I grabbed the toy from under the sink and whistled while I t’worked to the refrigerator. I opened it, took out the strawberries and closed it, strutting my stuff back to the couch.

Setting the fruit on the low table next to the KY jelly, I lay on it, spreading my legs, staring him in the eyes, licking my lips. Giving him a shot of this pretty pink chocolate pu*sy.

Pu*sy real good, Daddy.

I slid my finger inside of me, propped up against the arm of the chair.
Bryson’s face was a twisted mask of anger.

“You gonna act like you don’t hear me?”

His d*ck was about to break out of his zipper like escaped convicts.
I pulled my finger from my tight bussy, my walls so tight I felt them sliding. I sucked it down my throat, taking a strawberry from the package and rubbing it all over my bussy, my toes curling.

Sweet, sweet pus*y.

He was pulling out his d***k in broad daylight. Thank God I had huge trees in the front yard, cut the neighborhood visual in half by 70%.

I got up, grabbed the sharpie and turned on Plies. Get you Wet. Loud. Bass thumped all over my nipples, slid down my tummy, swirled around my hips, gyrated across my sweet cakes and thumped in the center of my boy pus*y.
I wrote on the window. Big letter.

YOUR GOAL IS TO GET THIS P*SSY. AND YOU CAN’T. TAKE YOUR THUG ASS HOME, NIGGAH.

“I’m fuk you up Niggah!”

I was slow grinding, rubbing my chest, licking my lips to Plies, getting my bussy wet. Was that Neyo singing? One of those R&B crooners.

I bent over and touched my toes, my a***e facing the window.

“I’m gonna break this fuking glass!”

I got on my hands and knees like I was Beyawnsay in the Kitty Kat video. My booty cheeks bouncing as I crawled to the chair. Back on it I go. I spread my legs. Picked up the toy. Sucked on it, rolling my tongue across the plastic mushroom head.

Oooh.

He spit in his hand, lathering his di*k. I shuddered. I wanted it but I had to teach him a lesson. Bottoms, your Top wanna show his ass in public when he didn’t like nothing in or by his ass, show your di*k to him from time to time.

I was being a complete d*ck.

I slid the toy in my bussy, my tight walls shooting pain through my body but I was a real bottom, a s***tty ass b***h for this plastic goddamn di*k.
Take my bussy, you plastic fu*k,

In and out it goes, all nine inches slowly and gradually inhabiting my tight cave like a bear in hibernation.

Tears fell from my eyes and I cocked my bussy towards the window, so he could see the toy going in and out of what he wasn’t gonna get for a week.

Goddamn. My toes curled, my nuts laying heated on my thigh. Felt so incredible. I slid it in further…

“Oh, sh*t. Sh*t, fuk me Plies, get it wet daddy. Sh*t, my man made me walk home. Trippin’! He ain’t getting this sweet, sweet little nookie tonight.”

I was brushing my prostate, the male G spot and my breathing came in short gasps, my mouth wide open.

Bryson was bent at the knees, his baggy jeans falling down his well sculpted body.

He was beating his meat, choking the sh*t out that goddamn chicken.

Bryson said, “Baby I’m sorry! Open the door! I want my bussy!”

I turned on the button and the toy started humming against my male clit deep in my ass. I had to check up on this bussy, dip it, pop it, t’work, stop it, dip it low, dip it down slow, take it back, Ho, look back at it and something broke free and I fell on the floor, digging in my sweet, sweet boy bussy and I came all over my thigh and stomach.

I couldn’t contain myself. “OH SH*T! OH SH*T!”

I took the toy out and sucked my bussy down my throat. Hints of strawberry. A touch of sweat. I wiped up my cum, looked Bryson deep in his painful eyes (he was hurt) and swallowed my seeds like I’m Janet swallowing spiders in Son of***Gun.

HA HA HOO HOO PUT ME OUT YOUR CAR, BOO GREEDY GREEDY THOUGHT YOU’D SHOW YOUR ASS AND GET MY BUSSY TOO!

NOT!

Struggling to stand up. I picked up another strawberry and enticed it with my tongue, head lowered, eyes looking up at Bryson.

His d***k hanging, he had a vulnerable look on his face.

“Open the door. I love you. I wanna be in you. Please baby. Come fu*k my di*k. I’m sorry. I was a fool for making you walk. B***h I’ma piss deep in that bussy! Open the door.” I walked towards the window.

“There you go.” He’s grinning, taking off his jacket and shirt in public. Bryson didn’t give a fu*k.

“I love you boo,” I said.

“I love you, Niggah. I’ma fu*k you all night.”

“It’s 6 p.m.”

“So what? Roll up my blunt, hit the Goose and you’re getting intoxicated di*k tonight.”

“I know I am.”

I dangled his keys in his face. His mouth fell open. Licking my tongue at him, I closed the blinds.

“GOOD NIGHT! WALK HOME!”

And I locked the door, went to my room, closed and locked the door, and took my ass to bed early.

When your Top shows his ass and wanna act grand lock his ass out your crib, open your blinds, fu*k that boy pus*y with a dildo bigger than his di*k and call it a night.

Bottoms Rule, Tops!