"I'm Home!" Rashida called out as the heavy screen door slammed behind her audibly signaling her return from a local job interview with a new salon.
"You bring food?" I asked lazing about taking in an easy Saturday on my cousin Jaquan's couch as she walked up the short stairwell into the living room unslinging her satchel bag. Rashida Sikes was wearing a light canary yellow romper a bit loose in the legs intentionally trying to lessen her rather prominent assets.
"No!"
"You sound salty; I know I texted you, like thirty minutes ago, right?" I'd brought over a gaming pc that I'd worked up after watching a "how to" on social media.
I was playing a bootleg Streetfighter game of my own design. It had become a new side hobby of mine intended to be a new source of passive income. I already had online ads for my services while my website chugged along making a nice bit of change despite a bit of stagnancy on my part.
"So what, and you didn't clean up around here; ahm supposed to be your maid, huh fool?"
"No, you supposed to be my uber driver and get me some goddamn food baby."
Despite my words, I was laying on my favorite couch reclining with a bag of chips on my stomach. I was in full incel mode like some spoiled brat enjoying my game presently pummeling the snot out of a digital Peter Griffith with a custom Ryu of my own design as her sandaled feet appeared next to the couch.
"I'm gonna act like you didn't say that shit."
"Act like a delivery driver and bring me something to eat Rashida." I retorted making her scoff to the strains of "Ask of You" by Raphael Saadiq by way of my cousin Jaquan's sound system.
"Motherfucker."
"Get me a pizza puff and some barbecue steak fries; oh yeah, can you snag some praline ice cream too Rashida?"
"Oh you're serious with it, huh?"
I answered with a robust burp.
Before I could react, Rashida planted her massive donk dead center in my stomach nearly snapping me in two. My upper and lower halves reacted jackknifing upward stopped only by her dead weight. It was a moment of mirth as she chortled, then stopped abruptly sniffing.
"Hey bruh, you ain't even washed up this morning? You're hella musty nigga."
"I think you've got me mistaken with your upper lip, ma'am."
"No you didn't." Rashida lightly slapped the left side of my face before snatching the bag of chips helping herself to a few.
"Hey, if you're gonna keep sitting there, slide that big ass down over my junk baby." I was supremely unbothered.
"Wash your ass and I might consider it." She offered.
"Oh yeah, what if I told you to sit on my face?" Rashida raised an eyebrow.
"Serious?"
"Yeah after you get my pizza puff and steak fries." I chortled making her scoff loudly as she slapped the side of my thigh before standing up in a huff.
"You're tripping; and you really need to get up and wash your fucking ass. It seems like you been laying on that couch since you got here yesterday. I thought at least we'd shoot some content or something, but you're slacking man."
"You're still getting paid."
"I don't want those checks to thin out, and what happened to making me a star again?" Rashida walked over to the dining room table picking up a stack of mail taking my eyes with her.
Her sixty plus inches of certified donk looked amazing in that romper. Her massive heart shaped derriere was stretching the material tight across her monster making it look as if she forgot her underwear before going out this morning. She noticed me watching instinctively snapping her thong to let me know it was there.
"You really gonna lay there all day?"
"Are you gonna get my food, huh baby?"
"You really gonna let me sit on your face nigga?" I knew I'd piqued her interest as she thumbed through the stack of the mail.
"What did I tell you about that word?"
"Didn't I tell you to wash your ass; I ain't messing around with a stanky pooh butt who don't know how to wipe his crack, so you ain't talking about nothing anyway fool!"
"Oh really?"
"YEAH!" Rashida challenged walking ruefully into the kitchen where she scoffed even louder at the full sink of dishes. I heard my friend, sometimes lover open the fridge followed by the opening of a can of soda. I paused my game sitting up tossing the bag of chips on the hardwood floor without a care in the world.
I stretched hearing the audible cracking of my joints as she reappeared leaning against the door watching me alternately slurping loudly from her can of generic soda. We exchanged glances as she looked about the sloppy living space I'd occupied since visiting coerced over by my cousin Jaquan.
"Where your fool cousin?" She asked, brow furrowed.
"Took Daisy down to the splash pad at the park, and I think he's gonna drop her off later with the mother." It had become an unspoken rule in the house of not mentioning or naming a certain baby mama number two.
"You know it's not fair making me clean up behind you lazy niggas after I been out trying to get another job all morning."
"Oh yeah, how'd that go Rashida?" I was still stretching and popping my bones.
"Said she'd think about it, but if you ask me, those bitches are all haters. My cousin told me they were cool down there, but I got the business with them telling me about having to interview a bunch of other clients and shit."
"Maybe it's true Rashida."
"They were seriously mad dogging me the minute I walked up in there; shit man, this is the third fuckin salon in the last week or so. I feel like I've been black listed or something. I even tried to dress conservative and everything."
"You know you can't hide that ass." I was wearing a wrinkled up beige tee and some flannel pajama pants. Rashida took visible exception to my response as I slipped out of the shirt in front of her.
"Fuck you."
I slid out of my pajama bottoms revealing that I'd gone commando letting my semi-erect penis flop out in front of her hazel eyes. My hands went to my hips as I stared at her with a static expression on my face. Rashida gave me a sarcastic half smirk.
"Fuck you man." She punctuated the sentiment by draining her can with a loud audible burp of her own before disappearing into the kitchen.
I shrugged walking into the bathroom between my cousin and his daughter's bedrooms not bothering to close the bathroom door. The sound of running water from the kitchen filled my ears before I could even touch the tap.
I'd been similarly lazing about my rented home whenever I wasn't ripping and running for my new boss Dr. Miles Cooper, somewhat of a slave driver. Jaquan knew I was still feeling the loss of my lover Vicky Stone, so he talked me into coming over for a weekend after finding out I was off schedule for the rest of the week.
Rashida had been beating the pavement looking for a new day job to no avail and I was responsible after blowing up her way of life for my own ends. I thought about how shitty it was making her collateral damage as I lathered up getting under the steaming spray.
Part of me felt that if we'd initially hooked up as planned that fateful night, then none of this current situation would've ever happened. Of course she'd still be in clandestine indentured servitude and, Vicky Stone would still be alive. That thought or permutations of it haunted me as I toweled off.
"Hey girl." I found Rashida diligently washing the dishes wrapping my arms around her from behind interlocking my fingers over her abdomen.
"DON'T EVEN!!" She was hot at having to pick up after me, but we knew each other well as I pressed into her with nothing but a towel around my waist.
"I'm sorry Rashida, let me help you with these dishes." I handled the dish in her hands washing it in the soapy water still pressed up against her from the back.
"You're just being nice because you want some." She turned on the faucet rinsing the dish before placing it in the rack.
"Don't be that way, I apologized; and I am gonna do what I said I'd do about helping you out."
"You're gonna shoot some content?"
"Yeah, I got a few days to get you squared away." We washed a couple of dishes repeating our symbiotic assembly line working in tandem.
"Sounds like you just want some pussy."