“Really? We about to do this childish shit?”
“Yup, I told you yo ass won’t going nowhere tonight.”
“Kas, give me my damn keys.”
“Get ‘em.” Kas teased, smiling as he raised his hand above his head. He already had about six inches in height over Yanna.
“Seriously? I swear you’re a fucking kid.” She kicked off her slides and stood on his coffee table, moving swiftly to grab her keys, but not quickly enough. Kas dodged her, moving out of the way before she could reach him. “Bruh, give me my fucking keys!”
“I’m not giving you shit. Get yo ass off my fucking table and sit down somewhere.”
“All this for what? Ain’t like you give a damn about me anyway, so stop trying to hold me back.”
“Hold you back from what? Stop playing like you don’t know who you belong to.”
“Nigga, I don’t belong to nobody but the Lord. Stupid ass. You love playing games.”
“Nah, that’s yo silly ass with the games. Doing all this extra shit. Come on, let’s just get it all out the way now and save us some time.Stupid ass nigga, you not my man anyway, I’mma find me another nigga… I’m sorry Kas, Fuck me Kas.” An accurate interpretation. It was the cycle of their relationship in a nutshell. Argue, fuck, cum, rinse, repeat.
“Don’t nobody want that average ass dick.”
“It’s average, but you be choking on this muh’fucka though.”
“I always said I would get into acting one day. I just be practicing.”
“You love lying.”
“Know what? Troi has a spare key to my jeep, I’ll just get it from her. You can keep that key, idiot.”
“Lay a finger on that doorknob and I’mma fuck you up.”
“It’s so adorable when you try to be intimidating. Bye.” Yanna jumped down from the table, heading for the door. She squealed when Kas grabbed her in a bear hug from behind, slamming her down onto his couch.
“Why the hell you always playing with me, Yanna?” Kisses to her neck trailed between his question. “Huh?”
“Nigga, get off me.”
“Make me get off you.” He kissed her again. Clutching the hem of her dress, trying to pull it off, but Yanna wasn’t allowing him easy access. “Lift yo ass up.”
“Ugh, I hate you.” Yanna groaned, lifting so that Kas could remove her skirt.
“Yea, that’s what the fuck I thought.”
“Just shut up and fuck me.” Right on schedule. They never deferred from their toxic cycle of insults and disrespect that led right to sex.
“Yo ass stay talking all that shit for nothing. I always end up right between these thick ass thighs.”
“I’mma hate you again as soon as we’re done. Justahh, fuck.” She moaned as he entered her.
“Just what?”
“Nothiiing,” she crooned, clasping her eyes shut.
He captured her chin in his hand and squeezed gently. “Open them,” he demanded. Smiling as she slowly opened her eyes. He had a compulsion for fucking her in the missionary position, while he forced her to hold his gaze. It seemed to be the only way he could ever get her to stop talking shit.
Kas had always been fine as hell to Yanna with his caramel skin, deep dimples, and curly hair. A rude ass pretty boy, and it was something about the intensity in his eyes while they sexed that made her delusional. She was well aware she should stand on her word whenever she said Kas wasn’t her man, but sometimes toxic dick was the most intoxicating. Yanna was neither dumb nor ditsy, but when it came to Kas, she was always stupid in that regard. With his hand still cupping her face, Kas kissed her sloppily. He hit her with a left stroke that his brother had aptly named thefinisher. That, mixed with the kisses and debilitating eye lock, was doing as the name intended. His stroke became so intense that Yanna had to put a hand on his shoulder, unintentionally attempting to push him back.
“Move yo muh’fuckin hand, Jaiyanna. Why you touching me?”
