Sleeping With The Homie

19

"Ready to order?" The waitress asks.

"He is." Lashawn gestures to me, making the waitress stare at me.

Before Lashawn's hand falls, I grab it. I bring it forward, part my lips a bit, and let his index finger inside. My eyes innocently flutter up to meet hers. "I am." I say around it before lightly biting it.

Her eyes widen, batting between Lashawn and I. Just when I think she got the hint, her eyes lower with accusation. "Stop cockblocking."

"Bitch what?" I question in disbelief.

"You heard me, nigga. Let ya homie have some fun." She doubles down.

"He's not my homie, you dumb fuck, he's my boyfriend and he's definitely not having fun with a busted bum bitch like you." I retort, no longer trying to contain my anger at this point.

"A lovely display of alliteration." Lashawn randomly comments.

"Ah ha! The nigga not even claiming you right now." The waitress points out and laughs.

Suddenly, Lashawn moves his hand out of my own to clutch my nape. He leans forward with a sly smirk on his lips. I feel his fingers stroke my skin and at the same time, his eyes dart down to my lips.

"She giving you problems, baby?" He asks the obvious.

"What do you think?" I ask back. At this point, I'm sick of both of them. Sick of her lack of professionalism. Sick of him and how good looking he is.

It's time to cut this relationship short and start dating ugly niggas.

"No need to get outta line." Lashawn comments as if he just read my mind, "I'm sure I can clear this issue up real quick."

That's when I lean forward on folded arms with challenging eyes staring into Lashawn's. "Clear it up then. You have my support." I throw his own words back at him.

He chuckles lowly before kissing me. I kiss back with an open mouth. Lashawn groans and opens his as well. Our tongues thrust out in sync. We push off of each other at first. Then, we entangle.

I feel myself grow greedier and greedier throughout the kiss. I also feel as if I didn't hammer the point into the waitress enough. I slowly thrust my arms forward. I grab Lashawn's puff, pulling his head back. I stand on my feet, leaning over the table and following Lashawn's lips. When he gasps, I take this opportunity to take control of the kiss. I lick the roof of his mouth. I then put my tongue underneath Lashawn's, stroking the underside with the tip. Afterwards, I wrap mine around his and start sucking. With each move, I have Lashawn groaning.

At last, I pull away, leaving a string of spit hanging between our lips. I look at Lashawn and he's starstruck by my aggressive side. I swipe the spit on my thumb before bringing my thumb into my mouth. I wink at him and then turn to the jaw-dropped waitress with a "told you so" look.

As I move to sit, I said, "And just like that, he's hard and ready to go. Find somebody else's nigga to mess with."

She blinks a couple of times. Once the shock goes away, the embarrassment registers. She speed-walks off, hopefully going to get us another waiter/waitress and fuck off afterwards.

Once my jealousy goes away, my own embarrassment registers. All eyes are on us after the possessive display I just gave. I can't believe I did that. I'm supposed to be the calm levelheaded one out of us, but I'm just as bad as Lashawn when it comes to this shit. I fall back against the seat, wanting to be swallowed up whole by the Earth.

"So..." Lashawn starts, making me look at him, "You ready to go?"

"No nigga, I ain't go through the reservation process and all dat for nun," I frown, "We finna eat and I want that bitch to look stupid every time she passes through here."