I can't believe this nigga tryin' to play me
, she thought.
And after all we've been through
. Mo met Quan when he was a petty hustla. He was broke for the most part, but she saw potential. Back then he treated her like the queen she was. At first their relationship was cool; it was everything that love was supposed to be.
They never went a day without seeing or talking to each other. It was nothing for him to lavish her with affection and to show her how much he cared. Remembering the good ole days, Mo walked over to her jewelry box and pulled out the first piece of jewelry Quan had ever given her. It was a fourteen karat gold necklace with a gold name plate in the middle.
Quan had stayed on the block day and night just to get it.
In return, she surprised him with a tattoo of his name written on her wrist. From that moment on, Quan knew that she was his and did whatever he could do to take care of her.
Mo never had to want for anything. They lived in a million dollar crib in the Central West End section of St. Louis and drove only the finest whips.
Their house was breathtaking. It held five bedrooms, three bathrooms, a game room, an outdoor pool and a home theater. Mo decorated the entire house herself. The girl had impeccable taste. For her love and loyalty, Quan blessed Mo with designer clothes, diamonds and furs. She didn't have to work, but for fun did a little modeling on the side. Quan made sure his boo was straight and Mo loved him dearly for that, but in her heart, she wished that things could go back to the way they used to be. Hearing the phone ring, she placed her necklace back into the box and reached for the phone.
"Hello?" she answered with an attitude, expecting it to be Quan, or the prank caller.
"Whaaat, you in the house tonight? You ain't out in the streets?"
"Nah, West," Mo replied dryly, realizing it wasn't either.
"Oh, well, where yo' man at?"
"I don't know. You tell me."
"Damn, that nigga ain't there? I been tryin' to reach him all night."
"Is he ever here?"
"Ahh, don't be like that, babygirl, you know he out there in the streets on the grind," West spoke deeply into the phone.
"That's what's wrong wit niggas now, they always out in the streets," she snapped, rolling her neck.
"Yeah, I agree. Ain't nothing out in them streets. But that's what's wrong wit niggas though. They start fuckin' up, givin' space for a nigga like me to take over."
"West, what you know about takin' care of a woman?" Mo asked, intrigued by the sound of his voice.
"Yo, that ain't even for you."
"C'mon, tell me. I'm a big girl, I can handle it."
"Yeah, that's what yo' mouth say but we'll see. Tell my boy I'ma holla at him."
And with that, he hung up. Shaking her head, Mo placed the phone back onto the charger only to hear the front door open and the sound of Quan's heavy footsteps approaching the bedroom door.
"What you still doing up?" he asked as he placed his keys on the dresser.
"No, the question is where have you been?!" she shot back with her arms folded underneath her breasts, giving him the
and you bet not lie
look.
"I was wit West and them."
"Nigga, quit lying 'cause West just called here lookin' for you! I know you was wit that bitch!"
"What bitch you talkin' about now, Mo?!"
"Sherry, nigga,
that
bitch!"
"Man, I wasn't wit that girl. Go 'head wit that. It's late, a nigga tired. C'mon, ma, don't start," he said, slipping off his pants and Prada tennis shoes.
"Don't start? Nigga, I've been callin' you all night! And
Triple Crown Publications presents . . .
why the fuck didn't you answer yo' phone?!" she spat, mushing him in the head.
"'Cause it didn't ring and you bet not put yo' hands on me no more!" he warned, getting into her face. "And turn that bullshit down!"
"It didn't ring? What kind of bullshit-ass lie is that?!" she shot back, not the one to be easily intimidated. She turned off the stereo.
"On the real, I think I broke it."
"Yeah, right, whateva Quan. You full of shit!"
"Mo, baby, calm down, let's just go to sleep," he reasoned, trying to take her hand.
"Don't touch me! I don't know where yo' dirty-ass hands been!" she snapped, getting up and preparing to leave.
"Where you think you going?" he asked, pushing her back down onto the bed.
"Leave me alone, Quan! I'm going into the other room!"
"What for?"
"'Cause I don't wanna be nowhere near yo' trifling butt," she said, trying to get back up.
"Man, sit yo' ass down! You ain't going nowhere!" He pushed her down again.
"Will you stop?!"
"Man, just shut up and come wit it," he whispered as he pulled up her pink negligee, revealing her 34 C breasts.
"Quan, I said leave me alone. Just let me go in the other room, a'ight," she whined, trying her best not to moan.
"Shh, c'mon, ma, just let a nigga get some in peace. I know you feel how hard my dick is," he pleaded while pushing her legs apart.
At that moment, Mo knew that putting up a fight was use-less. Quan's head game was lethal to say the least, and every time he went down on her, she was guaranteed to cum at least twice.
Ready to handle his biz, Quan placed her onto her back.
Wanting him to taste her, she parted her lips for him. Quan got the hint and dove in head first. With each of her thighs in his hands, he sucked on Mo's pearl-shaped clit until she screamed out in ecstasy. With expert precision he licked the right side of her clit causing her to shake and moan. Just as he expected, Mo started to cum in his mouth. Quan loved it.
She tasted just like candy.
"Oooooh just like that," she panted, holding onto the sheets.
"You like that, baby?"
"Yes!" She squealed as he flicked his tongue across her clit even faster.
"Ooh baby, please, make me cum again!" she begged.
Doing as he was told, Quan parted her pussy lips even wider. Wanting to please his boo, he sucked on her clit some more, until Mo came in his mouth again.
"Aaaaaah!"
"Damn boo, yo' pussy taste good."
"Oooooh ... that shit feel so goddamn good! Baby, pleeeease make me cum!"
The faster he licked, the more Mo begged. He placed two fingers inside her warm pussy while still sucking on her clit.
The combination caused Mo to cum again for the third time.
Quan was just about to replace his tongue with his dick when his cell phone began to ring.
"I thought you said it didn't work?!" Mo panted, coming down from her orgasmic high.
Quan ignored her and roughly slid his thick six inch dick inside her slit. He wasn't the biggest nigga in the world, but he knew how to work it well. The only thing Mo could do after he put it in was gasp for air and hold on for the ride. Holding her legs up, Quan pumped in and out of her at a feverish pace.
He loved Mo's feet, so while fucking her brains out he licked and sucked each and every toe. Mo was in agony and in heaven all at the same time. As soon as he put his dick in her, she felt torn between whether she should love him or leave him.
A part of her wanted to leave him alone and move on, but then the other part of her wanted to love him until it hurt.
Flipping her over, Quan began to beat it up doggystyle.
"Ooooh ... baby ... that's my spooooot!" Mo began to scream as she clawed the cotton sheets.
"You like it when ya' man beat it up, don't you?!" he questioned, smacking her right ass cheek, then the left.
"Yeeeeees!"
"You want me to hit it fast or slow?"
"Ooooh baby, hit it slow! Hit it slow!" She squealed.
"'Cause you know ... when I hit it slow ... yo' pussy get real wet." Quan slowed down his pace, hitting her with only rough, slow pumps.
And Quan was absolutely right 'cause as soon as he began hitting her with the death stroke, Mo's pussy became wet as hell. It was hard for him to keep his dick from sliding out, her pussy was so moist. Mo loved it when he fucked her hard but slow. Turning her head so that she could get a good view of him, she reached in between her thighs and placed two fingers on her clit and played with it. Mo thought that Quan loved it when she did that.
Spreading her ass cheeks apart, he watched as he fucked her soaking wet pussy while she played with her throbbing clit. Mo's pussy was the best. It was fat and creaming with juices, just how he liked it. Mo had to bite down on her bottom lip just so she wouldn't scream out his name as she gazed over his honey-colored physique.
8
Quan was that nigga. There was no denying that. He was a cocky son of a bitch but he was hers. His entire presence was commanding and intriguing. He had a low cut with waves, sleepy brown eyes, strong regal nose, sexy suckable lips and smooth beard. Mo's real name,
Monsieur,
was tattooed on the left side of his neck. He reached almost six foot three in height and had a body any woman would want to caress. Just the sight of him made Mo want to bust a nut.
"Ooooh ... baby ... fuck me!" She continued to beg while rotating her fingers across her swollen clit.
"You gotta learn how to trust me, ma," Quan groaned, thrusting his hips from side to side, making sure he hit every last one of her walls before he bust a nut. "You gon' trust me?!"
"Yes, baby, yes, I'ma trust you!"
"You love me?!" he questioned, feeling the nut build up in the tip of his dick.
"Nigga, I'ma love you forever." And with that said, they both came long and hard all over each other.
2
Fairy Tales (How it All Began)
All of her life, Monsieur Parthens had been considered the
pretty girl. She had pretty hair, pretty eyes and even pretty
toes.
Everything about her was cute. People just couldn't get enough of her. She was her parents' only daughter and had been showered with love and affection from the day she was born.
Grace, her mother, was overjoyed with happiness when she found out she was having a baby girl. Since Mo was to be her last child, she decided to name her something special and unique. After much thought and deliberation, she came up with the name Monsieur. It fit Mo perfectly because it was such a masculine name and she was such a girly girl.
As a child, her mother used to dress her up in frilly dresses and shiny patent-leather shoes, just for the fun of it. Every Valentine's Day her father would buy her a new piece of jewelry just to show her how much he cared. In junior high she was voted prettiest girl and in high school she was nominated Homecoming Queen two years in a row.
Unlike her brothers, Mo never had to do household chores. Everything was always done for her. Her father let it be known that his precious daughter would never have to lift a finger to do anything. The only thing she was required to do was get good grades in school. Mo was also a pageant girl.
From the jump she was groomed to be white glove material.
She wasn't raised to concert with who her mother referred to as "thugs." She was taught that she would attend a four year college of her choice, earn a degree, marry rich and raise a family, just as her mother had done. Mo never had a problem with that. Her mother's views on life suited her just fine.
She wanted the big house with the picket fence. She wanted a man to provide for her. At night while lying in bed, gazing at the stars, after hearing stories of castles and poisonous apples, Mo's mind would fill with visions of a perfect paradise where she and her ebony prince would have their fairy tale ending. She imagined that he would ride in on his big white horse and sweep her off her feet. There would be no dragons to slay because it would always be perfect. She would never have to be alone because he would always be there to love and protect her.
Mo's innocent, naive mind believed that the fairytale life her mother had dreamed up for her would indeed come true.
Her mother had had a perfect life, so why couldn't she? But being pampered and doted on came with a price. Mo didn't know what it felt like to stand on her own two feet. Her parents were always there to help keep her up. What she or her parents never expected was that the make-believe world they'd brought their daughter up in would come crashing down, which is exactly what happened the day her mother died in a plane crash. Grace had been on her way to visit relatives.
No longer having the protective shield of her mother sur-
Triple Crown Publications presents . . .
rounding her, Mo started to let loose. She was still very into school, but when Jayquan Mitchell, her brother Cam's friend, entered her world, her entire life began to change. The two were complete opposites, like night and day. She was a straight A student and he was a notorious player. Every chick in the hood wanted him, and Quan loved the attention, but getting money made him happier than pussy ever could.