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“You have got to be fucking kidding me,’ Bleu Belle Hudson mumbled, raking a hand through her naturally curly waist-length tresses. Her face contorted into a frown as she glanced into her neighbor’s backyard.

Closing her custom-made Golden Girls leather cover over her Kindle, she set the device on the cushion beside her and began massaging her temples. Reclining her head against the pillow attached to the lounger, Bleu closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, and tried to calm her nerves. She’d gotten comfortable on her big screened-in back porch not even five minutes ago, when her pain-in-the-ass neighbor started back up on his pain-in-the-ass neighbor-type shit. Bleu reached for her glass of Carlo Rossi and guzzled it down. Then, she grabbed the bottle and poured another.

In between mumbling positive mantras to herself that were supposed to help with stress, according to her uncle, she immediately drained the second glass. She was irritated but trying like hell to keep her frustration and fucked up attitude at bay. But the longer she sat there and tried to tune out the incessant bass from whatever rap song Trey had spilling from his speakers, the angrier she became.

“Fuck this shit,” Bleu said as she hopped up, slipped her French manicured feet into her beaded flip-flops, and stomped across her backyard to the left toward her neighbor’s house. “Fucking asshole has only been in town two damn months and has been a thorn in my side the whole fucking time. Shit, if I wanted to deal with more drama, I would’ve stayed in town and not moved to the outskirts of this muthafucka. How can a nigga so fine make my asshole itch the way he does? Pleasureville Bay was mostly fucking peaceful before this bastard moved into town. He couldn’t be the only home appliance service technician in the world willing to relocate to a small town. Especially all the way out here where I live. Is it wrong to pray for his ass to get fired? I am entirely too horny and too sober for this shit.” Bleu continued to mumble and bitch as she crossed over his property line.

It was twenty minutes after midnight, and a tiny bit of a breeze could finally be felt along with light rain in Pleasureville. After a hot-ass eighty-nine-degree day, Bleu just wanted to enjoy the late-night, early-morning quiet peacefulness of the second Monday in June. And she did until Trey’s loud-ass music interrupted her quiet time.

All I wanted to do was smoke some fucking weed and read my books in fucking peace before calling up some dick to put me to sleep. Fuck, was that shit really too much to ask?

Lowering the latch on their shared fence, Bleu strode through and went straight to the back of his home.

“Trey, can you please turn your music down? I’m trying to read and relax, and I can’t do that with all this damn noise,” she asked as nicely as she could, just as she approached him as he exited the sliding back door with a blunt between his lips. “Our town may be small, but we have rules. You get fined for noise complaints when you disturb the peace. This is a peaceful Georgia town. We have a time and place for loud music. Now is not one of them.”

Even with her being annoyed as fuck, she couldn’t deny that the man looked like he invented the phrase, sexy muthafucka. The fact that he walked around looking organically delicious was triggering as fuck for Bleu because she didn’t understand why God felt the need to bless the man beyond measure like that. It wasn’t right that just from a lick or spread of his lips, he could make a chick obey his every command. And he looked like he could make his dick do the Cupid shuffle dance deep between a woman’s pussy walls.

Bleu knew exactly why most of the women in this town were acting like stone fools over this man. He was fantasy sexy in real life. Trey Nichols was too fucking fine for words. He was big and tall. Fluffy and muscular. He was a tall-ass nigga with a naturally stocky build. She loved a big boy who could get her so hot and bothered that one look from him could melt her panties off her ass. His rich, red-chestnut skin was marked with tattoos on his arms, legs, and chest, and he looked soft and well-nourished. His copper-hued orbs were beautiful and mesmerizing. His nails were clean, and his hands had a soft yet rough look. He was eye candy worth developing a toothache over.

Bleu preferred beards to goatees on a man, but Trey’s perfectly trimmed goatee only enhanced the masterpiece that this man was. His gold bottom grill and his head full of waves, tapered to perfection, were the final touches on the totally delicious package he was. Bleu couldn’t stop her pussy from beating itself into insanity for all the money in the world. And she hated it with every fiber of her being, but she got off on that shit too. She was a proud ass big boy lover, and this man checked off every box of her desired features. Smiling, Trey lit up his blunt and took a hit. As he released the smoke from his lungs, he leaned against the door and boldly raked his penetrating orbs over her body. Her size sixteen frame was country-fried thick in all the right places.

Her winding curves caused him to fantasize about latching his lips onto them between pulls of his blunt. He loved that she was thick as fuck in all the right places and had an ass so big a bottle of Southern Comfort could chill on it with no problem. She had a couple handfuls of titties he was eager to suck on too. He’d wondered if she’d ever had an orgasm just from them muthafuckas being constantly sucked and licked all over. She had a little fupa that he was dying to wrap his hands around while he beat her pussy up from the inside out. Her big hazel eyes, dimpled chin, and slightly chubby cheeks were all flawlessly created. Her butterscotch skin looked silky soft, and her tatted arms and legs only seemed to add to her sensually seductive appearance.

“Hello, are you gonna acknowledge me or just keep standing there like a bump on the log?” Her frown deepened as she crossed her arms under her chest and impatiently waited for him to respond.

Trey groaned when she did that shit because it lifted them bitches higher, allowing him an even better view of the imprint of her nipples through the thin-ass pale pink shirt she had on.

“Bleu, it’s too early in the day for you to come over here starting shit. You shoulda brought me fuckin’ cake or some muffins or some shit. Ain’t that the kind of neighborly shit y’all Southerners do? Where is ya southern charm?” he asked while purposely ignoring her question. “You wound too tight, gon’ back home and masturbate. I’d love an invite to watch you in action, though. I just bet you be cummin’ everywhere, don’t you?”

When she smacked her plump ass lips, Trey couldn’t help but wonder if they still looked as pretty and kissable while wrapped around his dick. Again, he eyed her thick frame from head to toe, and his dick jumped at all the possibilities of getting the opportunity to fuck all the common sense out of her pretty ass.

“First of all nigga, my name is Bleu Belle to you. We ain’t cool. And if I ever bring you anything, it’ll be a poison-filled rum cake. And with you being number fucking one on my shit list, you might wanna steer clear of me.”

“I ain’t calling you by yo’ whole name. The shit is too damn long. Besides,” he shrugged, “You let everybody else in this town shorten yo’ name and call yo’ ass Bleu. So I’mma do the same until I come up with my own nickname for you. But little asshole has got a real nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“You heard what I said, Trey; don’t piss me off any more than you already have,” she warned with an annoyed glare.

Nodding, he wrapped his lips around his blunt again and took another hit, and a couple of minutes later, he chuckled to himself.

“What’s so damn hilarious, Trey? I don’t have time for your shit today. Are you gonna cut the damn music down or what?”

“Yo’ uptight ass is what’s so funny. And nah, I ain’t turning shit down. Nor am I gonna entertain your long-ass name. And I’on give a fuck about you being pissed. You’ll get over it,” Trey laughed again as he strode over to the table on his patio and ashed what was left of his blunt. “Why you so damn mean, girl? Which set of ya lips need a kiss?”

“Trey—”

“I know, I know, that’s a dumb ass question, right?! ‘Cause clearly, both of them need to be kissed thoroughly and often. Maybe then you’d learn how to smile more and not act like such a bitch all the time.”

“Ughhhh! That is fucking it,” She screamed as she stormed toward his house.

Rushing through the patio door, she followed the music to the far left corner of a massive living room. Bleu was surprised to see that most of Trey’s living and dining room resembled a small library. Books lined the black shelving units on the walls in both rooms and matched his black-and-cream decor perfectly. Hesitantly, she ran her fingers over the book spines and smiled when she spotted several of her favorite authors. She was so excited that she almost forgot she was on a vengeance mission for peace.

Shaking off her awe, Bleu returned to the task at hand and scanned the table for the television remote. When she found it, she turned off the Apple Music app. She then opened the back of the device, popped out the batteries, threw them on the floor, and tucked the remote into the pocket of her shorts before quickly heading for the exit.

Bleu didn’t get to step foot back out onto the concrete before Trey snatched her ass up and held her in a vise-like grip against him. He knew the moment she felt his dick caress her ass cheeks because she quit squirming and trying to break free of his grasp. She tried to move her ass as far away from his dick as possible. The only problem with that was that no matter which way she tried to move, she was gonna feel his big ass dick. Especially now that he was hard as fuck, thanks to her.

“You can’t run from this dick, baby,” He lowered his head to her neck and whispered. “But you keep grinding against me like that, and I’mma fuck ya mean as up against this house.”