Page 10 of Queen of the Pole

“And I’m over here trying to make up for it. Finish with your food. I told you earlier at the club that I wanted to eat and fuck my way out of war with you. I meant that. I’ll take you shopping this weekend too,” I announced, leaning my head down, so that I could kiss her on her neck.

“I won’t be in town this weekend. I’m going to Atlanta,” she let me know.

This was news to me. I didn’t know that she was going out of town.

“You move around more than a nigga. Why you going to Atlanta, man?” I wanted to know.

“You know Kilo, right? The rapper from Atlanta? He reached out to me. He wants me to star in his music video for fuck & fight. I’m flying out there Friday with Lyric. I’ll be back Monday night,” she said.

This was the shit that I was just talking about. I hated that other niggas were always lusting over my bitch. It was only so much of the shit that I could handle. I feel like a weak nigga would have spazzed out already. I knew my money was long, so for the most part, I really tried not to let the shit get to me, but Deja constantly has millionaire niggas reaching out to her, wanting to fly her out, spend bags on her, and I gotta just take that shit because it was business.

“You got all these niggas reaching out to you, but you get mad at me because I fuck one bitch,” I said to her, and she reached her hand out, pushing my ass back.

“Niggas reaching out to me to do fuckin business. They paying me. I’m not fuckin them. You meeting up with these bitches for your own personal gain. It’s not business. You out here giving that dick away for free. What the fuck are you talking about Javaris?” she spat, calling me by my government name, so I knew that I’d pissed her off just that fast.

I wasn’t trying to be beefing with Deja. Shit, I just got back in her good graces. She just went a week without fuckin with me, and I wasn’t trying to have her go another week.

To lighten the mood a little bit in here, I walked over to where she was sitting, putting her ass in a bear hug. She did that thing where she pretended she didn’t want me touching her, but she eventually let up, allowing me to do it. I lowered my hands, allowing them to rest on her hips. I placed my head into the crook of her neck, tickling her a little bit with the chin hair that I had.

“Give me a kiss,” I blurted.

“No nigga. You just annoyed the fuck out of me,” she talked shit, making me laugh. I kissed her cheek.

“I’m obsessed with you, girl. Obsessed like a motha fucka. Them niggas at the club see you, and they’re obsessed with Poison. I don’t see you as Poison. I see you as Deja, and that’s the version of you that I’m obsessed with. Shit fucks with my spirit a little bit knowing that all these niggas out here want to fuck you,” I said some real shit to her.

“How do you think I feel, Javaris? Me, and you will share these beautiful moments together. I’ll come over to your spot, cook for you, we’ll lay up together, watch TV, and when we do intimate shit like that, my feelings for you grow even stronger. The second I turn my back, you’re out here fuckin a bitch that you know I don’t get along with. I know that I have sex appeal, and it’s a part of my job to be in these niggas faces, but I’m not fuckin them. Only nigga I’m out here fuckin is you, and I feel like I look so stupid because you can’t even say the same thing to me. You can’t tell me that I’m the only woman that’s getting that dick, can you?” she turned her head around to ask me.

She pushed me off her too, so that she could get a better look at me. I didn’t want to look her in her eyes and lie to her. I felt like we would be beefing again. I also didn’t want to tell her the truth. Shit, so I just stood here, scratching my head, choosing to ignore her ass.

“That’s exactly what I thought!” she spat, and then turned around, so that she could finish eating her food.

I left her right there, so that I could go to the back, where her bedroom was. As I was walking to her bedroom, there were moving boxes packed away, siting in the hallway.

Deja’s lease was coming up soon, and she wasn’t renewing. She was moving somewhere else. Every time I asked her if she’d found a spot yet, she would lie to me and tell me that she hadn’t. I felt like she didn’t want me knowing where her new spot was going to be. We did a lot of fussing and fighting at the spot that she was at now. I’ve been known to pull up on her ass in the past, bringing our issues here, so that would explain why she would be cuffing the new address the way she was.

The thing is that I actually loved Deja. I loved sniffing up behind her, and knowing where she laid her head, so just like I knew the address to this spot, I’m sure that I was going to get the address for the next spot.

I made it to her bedroom, and because she trusted me, and knew that I wouldn’t steal from her, she had her duffle bag resting in the corner of the bedroom, that held all the money that she’d earned tonight. Her bed was freshly made too. You could tell that Deja spent a lot of time working because every time I came to her crib, it was always spotless over here.

She had cleaners that were on rotation to clean every two weeks. Judging by the vacuum tracks running through the carpet, I could tell that the cleaners had to have been here recently. A lit candle rested on Deja’s dresser, and I recognized the scent. It was the same scent that I always smelled on Deja. Her whole fuckin crib smelled this way.

I crossed through the bedroom, making my way over to the bathroom. To the right of the bathroom was Deja’s walk- in closet. A lot of her shit was already packed up. I saw the boxes with name tags on them. She had her purses, tennis shoes, heels, and other items already packed up.

I went for the bathroom, cutting the light on. The gun, wallet, and couple of phones that were in my pockets, I went ahead and sat them down on the counter. From there, I removed my shirt. Because I sleep over here a couple of times throughout the week, I had a drawer in Deja’s bathroom. In that drawer, I pulled out my extra-large stocking cap, placing it on my head, covering up my dreads, so that I could take a shower.

The second I went for the buckle on my jeans, my screen lit up, indicating that I had a text message. My phone was on silent. I knew to silence my shit before coming over to Deja’s crib. Not because she was going to go through my shit, but I just didn’t want my phone constantly buzzing or ringing out loud, leading her to jump down my back, wanting to know who was texting or calling me.

It was Joy hitting me. Her stage name was Obsession. She danced at the same club as Deja. This was the bitch that had me, and Deja beefing. The two of them didn’t get along. I knew I didn’t have any business fuckin Joy, especially knowing the ongoing beef that she had with Deja, but I’ve always been the kind of nigga to fold quickly when it came to pussy. I’ve got plenty of dances from Joy at the club. She’s been wanting to fuck me for months, but I would always hold out, knowing that it would make my bitch mad.

I slipped up one night, fell for the bait, followed her home, and I fucked. We’ve fucked multiple times since then. Deja found out about it, and because Deja stopped fuckin with me behind that, I stopped fuckin with Joy. I was shocked to see her texting me.

Joy

My period didn’t come on two days ago. My period is never late. I called out of work today because I’ve been throwing up. I’m too scared to take a pregnancy test.

Reading that shit, I sucked my teeth.

“Fuck! Fuck!” I spat. I didn’t say the shit too loud because I didn’t want Deja to hear me.