Oh she’s a cute liar by A.Dakala

Marie Latrice never knew how God was continuing to bless her until she decided to hitch hike a ride with the devil. He was introduced to her by the devil’s helpers dressed in a wool suit. Marie had been down this road before not knowing that karma was standing at the bus stop waiting on her to make choices that she often made for years. It wasn’t about sex, she had no problem spreading her legs to any wolverine who showed her a good time and was willing to spend their money to keep her smiling. What she didn’t learn from was the multiple penises that entered her unprotected. But having a baby by an conceived money pit was an insurance policy, at least that’s what she thought. Sometimes brains and beauty are often measured by the amount of money one is willing to spend.

Has the world turned church minded folks into up rooted prostitutes selling their souls to leave in the moment?

It appears Maria took pride in playing the victim, but when you look around at her circle; it was a circus act of zoo animals she called her friends. On paper a few seem to have it together, but that was a smoke screen. They all lack live intelligents.

After being in a six month relationship, she were introduced to one of the devil’s helpers that convinced her weak shallow mind that he could provide a life that could always imagine. He was a fake servant of God at the Grace Covenant church in San Diego, California with the title of Board of Directors. Minister White is what the church members called him.

To switch over to this borrowed lifestyle; she needed to turn the tables on her current situation as if he had ruin her life. God couldn’t sleep that night. Every lie that produced words from her month subtracted days of her life. Lies started to multiple in full sentences, sentences turned into paragraphs; before long her cheating and infedilty became a normal four day weekend. Minister White started struggling with his own demons, not knowing that the streets were watching him and taking notes.

One night after Bible study a group of goons approached the hypocrite Minister who dropped to his knees and begged for forgiveness. They didn’t want to rob him, they were tired of false prophets representing the devil in casket sharp clothes claiming to be men. He died asking God to forgive him from the list of his tongue

Once the news got back to Marie, “it was just another nigga she met, on to the next” she said. But her demons were slowly surrounding her as she woke up to go to work but became sick. Vomiting up clots of blood, then passed out on to the floor where she hit her head on the corner of the fireplace. The devil had unplugged her phones lines!

Clitoris by A.Dakala

It was something about the enjoyment I got out of sucking on her clitoris. We were both very sexual homosapiens with high sex drives.

I sat at work thinking of pulling her panties off as she stood there in high heels; nipples erected through her padded Victoria secrets bra. Picturing myself I’m down on my knees with both hands gripping her ass cheeks like two basketballs. Everytime I would lick the right spot on her vaginal; her butt cheeks would push slowly in and out to my abrasive strokes.

Our connection was strong as black coffee, no sugar , no cream. Our body sweat combined was enough to impregnate the soil beneath the concrete. I wish my tongue was longer; the thought of wanting to blow kissing inside her stomach as I spreaded her vaginal lips east to west.

It turned me on when she would take your fingers and rub her clitoris, finger tips creamy and put them in her mouth. Sucking them as if she had my manhood held like a bratwurst. As I’m looking up at her squeezing her ass harder, my tongue strokes were getting stronger; feeling her body twitching getting her closer to her boiling point. Her nipples looked as if they wanted to burst out of her hazel pecan skin; growing from a dime to quarter like Pinocchio’s nose . I reached up with one arm and gently squeezed one nipple. She literally released an orgasm so hard as if she was holding her urine in 5 o’clock rush hour traffic on I-285 east. She roared like a Lion as her juices had me swimming in the Aquatic center pool. I had to peep at her with one eye to make sure she wasn’t transforming into someone that wasn’t suppose to be there. I didn’t want to drop no juices, my esophagus was in over drive like a hellcat shifting into six gear. It was sweet, tangy, bitter, coating and warm. Sexcrise mixed with natural protein.

I was definitely hooked and had her hooked as well. Her body had been defeated with her waving an invisible white flag of surrender. Slowly fallen down to the floor in a fetus position with me bracing her body. She had to push me away as her clitoris left only a drop of orgasm juice. I teased it with the tip of my tongue. She tighten her thighs, I pressed the inside of her legs trying to over power her tense muscles. If my lips had not branded her cravings enough but I would have paid top dollar for her juices being bottled up and sold like pints of milk.

We both laid there breathing hard as if we crossed the finish line in a track meet, chest going up and down; as our lungs were trying to catch up to our sexual cardio. We look over at each other and said “Damn, I need some water at the same time!”

60 seconds by A.Dakala

My woman had just made it back in the city after a well needed weekend vacation with your girls. She sounded so excited to see me today and I was very excited hearing that she was missing me. Of course I had to go into the office the morning she landed but we talked and texted each other every hour or so. I couldn’t help but watch the clock every second, it seemed as time was not moving or moving too slow. I even picked up the clock and changed the batteries to make sure it was working properly. Just to get ahead of the traffic left work early; that way I wouldn’t have her waiting too long. I did not mind waiting in the cell phone parking lot watching the airplanes take off and land; one after the other. The number of vehicles waiting would increase then decrease as the bright lights of their cellphones lit up as flights landed. Headlights would come on; engines would start up and then the vehicles would disappear as a fleet of red brake lights fade away in the distance to pick up their passengers.

Once I got the text that she had landed I knew my baby made it back safe and I would be in her arms in a few minutes. She has no idea that I was already there waiting for her and had a surprise that would change our lives forever. As I reclined back in my chair listening to the Boo’d Up sing, my cellphone rings. When I answered it, I could hear my girl fussing at someone. I hit mute on the phone and started recording the conversation. Then a man’s voice spoke “if you really don’t want him, then leave him so we can stop part-time sexing” he said. ” Well I’m not giving him none so you don’t have to worry about that” she said. I crunk up and drove to the parking deck and position myself so I could see the entire departure area. She didn’t realize that she had butt dailed me. The background got louder but the last thing I heard; was her saying “let me out where there’s a lot of people so I won’t be spotted, oh shit”! Then the phone disconnected. She must of realized she had called me.

I got out of car and open my trunk. Removed my tool box and pulled out my hidden envelope. She called “baby I’m home pick me up at door S4.” “Ok baby I’m here, coming to you now. As I walked closer to S4, I felt a sense of relief. I spotted her, she spotted me with all smiles. She open her arms for a hug, as I hugged her; I whispered in her ear. “Thank you!” “For what?” she said. I pressed play on my cellphone and played the conversation back. She was speechless. “Oh by the way, as I pulled out the envelope, my lottery numbers hit last night for $212 millions.” Tell that dude you was with this weekend; you need a ride from the airport!”

A Love Story by A. Dakala

She said take off her panties but keep the candles lit

I said no regular condoms only magnums fit,

She wouldn’t let me pull them down past her hips or her thighs

I figure she was just teasing me with them fake hazel eyes,

Starting kissing her neck until I kissed her titts

Playing “turn off the lights” TP’s greatest hits,

The wine started kicking in our kisses got deeper

Legs spread one on my shoulder I could feel it getting weaker,

Pressed her feet against my chest started sucking on her toes

Studdering my name out loud calling me her Boaz,

I could picture us in bed before we got in the bed

I could picture getting head after I gave her some head,

The scene was all set the picture was painted perfect

Pulse racing feeling nervous I hope this was all worth it,

She said “Before we start I got a secret to share

Before I was conceived my mom had a pregnancy scare,

Growing up with a single parent when my father wasn’t there

No man raising a man only make up and heels,

I guess what I’m saying so you know when I’m Cumming

I was really born Tim now a transgender woman.

Unpicture Perfect by A. Dakala

God why do you keep blessing me with the instincts of seeing bullshit from a distance? I’ve witness over 23 friends murdered in my lifetime and involved myself with worthless relationships that were more damaging than beneficial. Whether self inflicted or undeserving; i left a chapter in my life full of unanswered questions based on adopted choices made trying to be happy.

Now things that once had no meaning to me are those very things I strive to have.

I fell in love with a sexy enemy; ignoring the red flags sending signals to my heart. My mind and heart were on two separate pages. Mentally I was all in, she was sexy, beautiful and sex was to crave for. She just didn’t have the inside of her together, too many men in and out of her life; made it impossible for her to love someone when she hated herself. She depended on therapy and counseling to justify her decision making. From the outside she looked like a well put together diamond in the rough; but remove the make up, the name brand materialistics and the fake reality star mentally you would get a city girl trapped by her own motor city skeletons.

I was drawn in by the ambition of ones attention giving. I became reliable on seeing her daily, we had sex everyday for six months until it became habit; even on a day we would fall out with each other. Sex became an addictive drug. The more sex that was throw out like a fisherman’s fish line the more opportunities there were for white lies. I use to sit back and watch compare my relationship with her as a old beat up car with a fresh coat of paint on it to cover up the rust spots, dings and bumps.

The straw that broke the Camel’s back took place on her trip to her class reunion. All relationships have rules whether you together enjoying shared time or miles away spending time away with your old classmates. For her it was about impressing the past folks but lie to your man. See before this incident, lies had already surface that I watch her preach about that wasn’t true. But God reveals things without showing them. So her and I agreed that she would communicate periodically on her vacation; I wasn’t going to blow her phone up all night. Her event started at 9pm, I had just spoke to her about 730pm she said she had just got up from resting. I dosed off shortly after but woke up about 4am realizing I had not spoken to her. I called several times and even left a few text messages. This was on a Friday night. By Monday morning I still hadn’t got a call or text back from her as I was walking out of my door headed to work.

I got a call from someone who was also there, that explain to me that she got jumped by a woman who caught her in the hotel sleeping with her best friend’s man’s brother who was in town out of the blue together. Not only was this man married for 25 years; Pastor White as they called him wanted just sex. Her therapist needing couseling ass was mental unstable and all for his nice conversation game. Even the man her best friend was dating was a married man. Birds of a feather whore together I guess. That’s when I realized it was a plan behind choices of engineered lies she drew up. The work of a misguided genius that would suffer from the notice of intented karma.

Its like that old Verizon slogan “Can you hear me now”?

Purified DaSani by A. Dakala

No more sex until a man puts a ring on my finger and ready to get married in 30 days.

My last relationship was a hit or miss. This man wouldn’t even answer his phone half of the time. I hate having to call someone three or four times, then get a text message back fifteen minutes later saying “call you in a few minutes”. A bunch of unnecessary bullshit I call it. As soon as I would tell him how I feel about it he would get all in his feelings; then it would turn into an argument. This time I took a different approach, I didn’t pick up my damn phone when he called. After an hour had passed, my doorbell rang around eleven o’clock. I made sure I came to the door wearing my favorite lingerie, my ass bulging out and nipples exposed. I would normally great him with a hug and kiss, but not tonight. I open the door and turned and walked away towards the bedroom. He stood there taking off his shoes because I didn’t play walking in my house with your shoes on. As soon as I got in the bedroom, I put on some house shorts and a t-shirt. By the time he made his way to the bedroom I had my back turnt and earbuds in my ear playing Beyonce. “Won’t be no pussy for his ass this weekend that’s for sure.” I was saying to myself.

I woke up in the middle of the night to write in my journal. He never made it to bed; instead he was lying across the foot of the bed with his clothes still on. I shut the bedroom door so I wouldn’t disrupt him and goes into the living room.

This negro doesn’t realize the prize possession he has been blessed with. I don’t club, I don’t smoke, I have a great career, my sex is to die for, I take care of his ass and my home is his home. I don’t stress him about coming to his house because I know his dad leaves there and sells drugs. I’m not trying to be caught there in some type of police raid. I deserve better, I demand better! He walks around with his phone in the waistline of his boxers and it’s always on silent. “I need some church wine Lord” I said. Walking into the kitchen I tripped over his damn shoes just lying in the middle of the hall way. As I picked one of them up; a hotel room key falls out. Something is not right about the red flags God has presented to me right now. My hand started shaking in the middle of my thought process. I turned on the TV and there was an infomercial playing. The message was clear as if it was speaking to me. “To be treated like a Queen, you must first be purified mentally and understand your worth physically. One doesn’t disarm separately; it’s a package deal”.

With my pistol in and and cell phone in hand to dail 9-1-1 if needed too; I woke that nigga up at 3:13 am and gave him back his hotel room key. I told him he needed to go check on that bitch at the Holiday Inn Express and I needed him to leave my place now; oh and take anything that belongs to him; since you won’t be coming back! Of course he wanted to plead his case blame his homeboy that I never met or knew.

As soon as my door shut behind his ass; I turned on my alarm, took out my gold case from my panty drawer, grabbed my KY Jelly lubrication and hit the power switch on my dildo!

Red Eyes from the Pure White Hennessy by A.Dakala

Its two o’clock in the morning and I’m still up, sitting in my recliner flipping through channels; like a nervous criminal needing a cigarette. Wondering

Yesterday I lost my job; and came home to tell my fiancee but she wasn’t home. As I was walking to the kitchen to grab a beer out of refrigerator; I could hear the vibration of a cellphone buzzing repeatedly. As I get closer to the laundry room I realized as I slide open the door, Melody had left her pocket book sitting on top of the dryer. I reach in and grabbed it, and all of your text messages displayed. The one that should out the most was from someone name Mitch.

Babe I think the card you gave me fell between the headboard and mattress when you had my toes curling; I’ve never came so hard”!

I believe my eyeballs and my brain both was trying to figure out who was running out of my body first as my temper temperature went zero to sixty in one second flat. I pulled the mattress off of the bed, there the card laid. As I open it, I could tell she sprayed her favorite Chanel number 5 perfume that I bought her ass all on the card. Inside was a two dollar visa gift card and a photo of her in a bikini. I took every picture I could of the card and place it back in the same position minus the gift card. I’m spending that shit on me, hell probably my money anyway. As I was walking out the room I had a change of heart, fuck that, I’m taking this shit with me; so I folded the card and put it in my pocket.

I forwarded the texts to my cell phone immediately. I felt like calling up O.J to get his advice on handling the matter but I didn’t know him. W.W.T.D.D I kept saying to myself; what would the devil do. I put the cellphone back in her purse, ran to the front door and got in my car. I was praying I didn’t pass her as I was leaving out of the neighborhood. Once I made it a few blocks over, I called her cellphone as if it was just another random day. I even left a text message asking where was she at. I didn’t want to be spotted riding in circles so i drove over to Bankhead to see if my homeboy Nutty was sitting out on his porch. I figured he would be; as usual playing biz wiz with his seventy year old use to hustle crew. Not sure why their asses were playing for butter scrotch candy none of them had teeth. Hell I didn’t get one step up on the porch until Nutty said; “oh shit, she done broke the niggas heart, talk to me young buck what’s happening”. Yes I was embarrassed as the rest of his teethless grandpa’s about pissed in their clothes laughing. Nutty got up from the dirty record crate and motion me to come inside with him.

I explained to him the situation and all he could do was offer advice. Be a man about the situation, talk it over without being so angry but don’t be nobody’s whimp. Then he went into his top chest drawer and got out his pistol and handed me 8 bullets. I looked up at him and he nodded and walked back outside.

As I was standing there killing time, Melody called an hour pass the to she normally calls. It took so much out of me not to strangle the broad through the fiber optic phone lines; only if I could reach her ass. I told her I would be home shortly that needed to tell her about my day. “Yes I need to tell you about my work day too” she said.

On my way home I couldn’t help but think about her cheating on me, as good as I have been to her. Reading the card over and over I memorize every word, replaying what I thought took place in my head. Imagining the woman I’m about to marry performing oral sex on some random dude. Mentally we have already gotten a divorced. I open my glove compartment and took the pint size bottle of pure white Hennessy and gluzzled it all in twenty seconds. Looked in the rear view mirror and brushed my hair. Put two drops of Bausch and Lomb eye drops in my red eyes to cover up my evil look.

I pulled the card from my pocket and put the address in my GPS. I wasn’t going to just show up on his door steps but I wanted to observe who was capable of fucking up my household and relationship. I wasn’t going to shake his hand or tell him the best man win. I was taught as a youngster that you must first study your prey before you kill it!

Sex sells but nobody’s buying it! by A.Dakala

So many women have been mentally poison by creating what they think a man really likes and wants. Yes, the big ass is good to look at…. temporarily but the grip of a fake booty gives you fake results. Sex sells and will always sell like a good drug to a dope fiend. But eventually the drug wears off and reality kicks in. Sometimes the mental capacity weighs more than the outside attraction but like every good reading; you can’t judge a book by the cover.

The reality of life has been tainted by individuals not knowing who they are or hiding behind who they want people to think they are. Some of us have pasts that has made us into the liars, cheaters, unstable and whores we are today. Clarification, not all of us have adopted this plague.

Life scars and bruises has been covered up by Halloween make up of the unforgiveness from seeking love in all the wrong places. Beauty does not define love, honor or respect. Beauty is an attraction that feeds the soul’s wants and needs. Who cares about the name brand clothing or luxury car your driving when your heart is at stake? I can’t remember the last time I got in bed wearing a new pair of Gucci boxers or worried about her having on those lace Louie bra and panty sets. Those panties will be pulled to her ankles in a matter of seconds; so whether it’s Target or Walmart brand, we sexing regardless.

Hot-Alanta and every other place where women feel they need to surgically altered their appearance to draw the attention of men who are just as fake and confused as them. Society has accepted this look as an life enchancement not realizing the damages it does to the self inflicted scars that eventually turns into battle wounds.

Some of the life changes are branded and can not be reversed.

This is just my opinion but a lot of these self body enhancement has been proven to be linked to low self esteem issues one may have to be accepted. Ladies please remember this; butt injections, boob implants, lip enhancements and all these tummy tucks only looks good for the moment. We all have to grow old one-day, your skin will flop to an desire-able look……eeewwww!

But for now most men will take the eye candy until it melts!

Salt…by A.Dakala

Last night I overheard my dad and old man Nutty arguing over a poker game. I covered my head with my pillow hoping to drain out the back and forth yelling. My mom runs and shuts my room door. Then the sound of broken glass echoed like fireworks on the fourth of July. There was silence; I raised my head from my pillow as my dad hollers out to my mom “bring me the salt” he said. You couldn’t hear a pin drop for about two minutes.

My dad hated to lose at anything he did; sometimes he acts like a pit bull that hasn’t been fed when he gets angry. Everybody in our neighborhood respected this man, as if he was a gangster. He stood 6 feet 4 inches tall, about 240 pounds and in the streets he was known as “Spades”.

The next few years of my life felt like an initiation or my dad preparing me for a war. He would have me take brown paper bags wrapped in rubber bands into the corner store; the old man behind the counter would always give me a box with about 6 containers of salt in it. I was too afraid to ask my dad why do he buy salt every night, I mean the look in his eyes was so scary, plus they was red as a ball of fire. One thing my dad did not like was to be interrupted while he was on the phone talking business.

As I got older, my dad would take me out with him to pool halls, bars and even clubs. He would always call me Lil Salt, which was a nickname that has stuck with me since then. He wouldn’t allow me to be out in the open, but there was always a back room he would hide me in, and always had someone on his payroll checking on me. One particular night, he told me to put his pistol in my back pocket and hold it. I did with no questions asked. Then he shut the door. An hour or more had passed, I wasn’t hungry on this particular night, but he made sure the waitress would bring me whatever I wanted, but I had to pee this time. I left the room without his permission to go to the restroom, as I walk by the men’s bathroom, I heard two guys talking and you could hear them loading and turning the barrel of guns. One of the men said, “tonight we getting Spades ass”. If I was on the toilet I would have pissed on myself, scared straight. As soon as they left I ran out to find my daddy. One of the guys who was always with him, said he walked a friend outside. I ran to the front door, I could hear my dad’s voice getting louder, as if he was shouting at someone to stay off of this turf. As soon as my dad saw me, his demeanor changed, he grabbed me and pulled the pistol from my back pocket and shot backwards six times, hitting someone who I knew as fat daddy, my mom’s brother. Uncle fat daddy fell to the sidewalk; dad pushes me to the car and opens his trunk. All you could hear was a loud thud sound and the car moving from side to side. We pulled off and drove for about an hour down this dark road out in the country. I remember this area briefly because my daddy took me fishing here years ago. I was told to never ask question when daddy was conducting business. That night daddy backs his car up to the dock area and got out. Once again the car starts to move side to side and then the trunks shut softly as if he didn’t want to make any noise. Seconds later it sounded like someone throwing big rocks in the river and then there was a loud splash.

With no lights on until we made it out of the wooded area, daddy started to hum to the tune of some song “Sitting on the Dock of the Bay”.

This was the night I found out what all the salt was for.


Chapter 1

Yesterday we buried my dad; today the hustler’s torch has been passed to me to carry on his legacy. I still haven’t shed a single tear; a lot of it has to be from being angry as hell. I never imagine my dad would be murdered even though you reap what you sow, he still was my daddy. I still have a close relationship with my mother, but her and my dad divorced four years ago as soon after I finished college. She’s now re-married to a Police Chief and lives in Stone Mountain, Georgia. Her new husband doesn’t really care for me, and I feel the same about him. He feels I need to be doing more with my life instead of trying to carry on my dad’s street cred. At the funeral I didn’t recognize anyone there but my immediate family, I definitely couldn’t see anyone’s eyes, and the strange ones were hiding behind their dark shades looking like secret service men. I hear some worked for my daddy and others were criminal law enforcement officers looking for the right opportunity to use their billy sticks on a nigga.

I didn’t sit up front; I watched them lower my daddy’s casket in the ground as I stood in the background. I was told by my dad’s best friend Knuckles not to bring too much attention to myself or to be easily identified as blood. I knew I had to be strong; I was disappointed that my mom didn’t even show up to the funeral out of respect. But she rather show respect to her jealous husband than the man who busted his ass to provide a life that took his.

I notice an older dark-skinned gentleman that kept looking over at me, then he flashed a hand signal that only my daddy use to do to get his workers attention. I didn’t want to look around, so I dropped my head for a silent prayer, then I looked back over to the guy but he had vanished. My eyes navigated through the crowd of people but he was nowhere in sight. As the funeral came to an end, I exited early before everyone started to walk to their cars. The closer I got to my car the quieter my surroundings got as if I could only hear the crows crowing and the crispy breaks of the leafs with my every step. On the handle of my car door was a note. “Your daddy still owes me 100 grand, when can I expect my bread?” I put my hand on my gun tucked behind my suit coat, looking around to see if I’m being watched. Once I was in the car I placed my gun on my driver seat and started the ignition. I felt safe inside the car, since I had it bulletproof customized. I couldn’t imagine leaving the grave site without saying a prayer for pops. In the middle of prayer, the dark-skinned guy scared the shit out of me by knocking on my window. Always on guard, I cracked my window slightly, with my hand on my gun, he then slide a letter between the cracks and walked away. I pulled off still holding the letter but scared to open it. I watched the grave site get smaller and smaller in my review mirror, my eyes got watery for a moment then anger built-in.

I pulled up to a red light at the corner of Jersey Ave and Iris Lane a known drug infested area but a short cut to the freeway.

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