"Was it worth it?
Would you do it again?" - SZA
"Ermias Asghedom? Hhmmm...what does it stand for?" Lying on his bare chest, my hands graze from his chiseled jaw line down to the deep V embedded deep within his pelvis. After yet another heavy love making session, I am officially tapped out. Vagina aching and all—messy bed hair, dry mouth, then again, I have a widest grin on my face.
"I used to ask my mother that." He responds in a low, raspy tone. Caressing my back with his hand, the other was placed behind his head as he stares into space in deep thought. "I used to hate my name growing up. Sounds crazy but it means sent by God. True what they say huh, I'm heaven sent?" Sending a mischievous smirk my way, he wiggles his eyebrows with emphasis.
"You are a God, huh? My king?" Stealing a kiss on my moist lips, he exhales rigorously.
"I wouldn't say all that. I'm simply Ermias. I like to help out the community—that's the least I can do, feel me?"
"And I honor you for doing that. I've witnessed a lot of young cats make it in Hollywood; born and raised in the hood but for some reason, they all turned their back on the people who held them down since the very beginning."
"You from LA Ms. Hollywood?" Joking like usual, I didn't take him serious. Playfully smacking my lips, I thought back on the first moment we met. Back then I could've known that him and I were heaven sent.
"Born and raised in Oakland, California." Sighing with sadness, my childhood was far from perfect. Nothing about me is perfect, I known how to play my role in this cruel world.
"That bad, huh?"
"What makes you say that?"
"You seem sad all of a sudden. You talk about your brother all the time. Are y'all close? What about your parents?"
"Trai and I used to be close—until he gotten married to this stuck up bitch that I despise. It seems as she has something against me. I keep this cordial for the sake of my brother." Pausing, I found myself burying my face deeper into his chest. The sight of tears dripping down my nose onto his chest only humiliated me even more. Discussing my parents is not necessarily easy for me.
"I'm not close with my parents either. My dad only wants the best for me—even if it means hurting me in the end. He's a good guy, don't get me wrong. He tends to throw my mistakes in my face; for what—to hurt me intentionally? And as far as my mother, that woman is a different story."
"You don't have to explain yourself to me. Look at it this way, when we have our own children, you'll be the best mother—that type of motherly nurturing that you never received when you was a little girl."
"I guess you're right." Circling his nipple with a finger, I lay my head on his chest enjoying the rhythm of his heartbeat. "Who said I wanted kids?"
"Let's be real sweetheart. I planted at least two babies in them guts, if not more. Just be ready for that positive pregnancy test."
"You can kiss that goodbye. I'm not ready to be somebody's mama. Hell, I'm barely making it on my own. If it wasn't for you, I'll be suffering at my parents house like a little ass girl."
