His name is Benji, and today I was going to fucking kill him. My reason is selfish, of course—I love the fucking bastard, but for some blighted reason, I can't get him to take a damn notice of me.
We live in the same apartment complex in the Georgia city Projects. The building where he lives is across the courtyard from mine. I see him every day: I often pass him shooting hoops with his peers, or whenever he and his buddies are idling about, throwing dice or just chilling. A few times I've caught him glancing in my direction, usually when I'm with my girlfriends, and his buddies get to cat-calling. But his eyes seldom linger at me. The sad thing is I'm not his type of woman—I know this. I've seen the ones he prefers—dark and beautiful. I'm neither of those.
I'm pretty enough, but my nose is thin and fucking crooked. I'm way too slender; my tits are C-cups; my ass is fucking flat as a piece of bread, and minus all of that, my hair is blonde, and I'm as pale as a Thanksgiving full moon.
Yeah, I'm not the sort of bitch a guy like Benji would want to go after—his boys would probably rib him if ever they caught us together—but I can't help it. I craved and ached for him every time I sighted him. It ain't like I demand him to be my true love (though I won't fucking mind that, now would I?) I'd sure love to feel what he's packing in those baggy jeans of his.
This time around, I decided to take charge of things.
I went and borrowed a particular item from a close friend of mine—she wasn't keen to part with it, but I promised returning it back to her before the end of the day. It was the one thing I knew that was going to help me achieve my aim. You likely won't approve of it if I told you, but I'm fucking sorry. Desperate times, as they often say, calls for extreme measures.
I'm cognizant of Benji's routes in and around the neighborhood. He does his hustling runs Mondays through to Fridays. Those days he's alone, always surrounded by his coterie of hoods. But the weekends are different. He usually lies low in his pad and invites some of his bitches over. It was on a Saturday that I made my mark to visit him.
I got dressed and checked myself one last time in the mirror before leaving my apartment. It was a little past noon; perfect time to commit a crime. I strolled across the courtyard toward his building and rode the rusty elevator to his floor. I knew his apartment number, so it was easy finding his door. The hallway was empty when I got there—perfect! I knocked on his door, then slipped my hand into my handbag and waited. I knocked a second time, counting off the seconds in my head.
Then came what sounded like a key turning in the lock.
I quickly scanned the hallway again, then retrieved the pistol out of my bag and hid it behind my back.
The door opened, and it was Benji. He gave me a curious-type of stare like he assumed I was lost or something. He wasn't expecting someone like me, or else I figured he'd be smiling. He wore a tank top and black jeans. Probably he was getting ready to leave before I arrived.
"Yeah?" He inquired.
"Excuse me, are you Benjamin Rawlings?"
He smiled. "My friends call me Benji, but yeah, that's me."
"Good," I smiled back, then aimed the gun at his face, "because I'm here to stick you up," I leered.
The smile died from his face, and he raised both hands in the air and muttered: "What the fuck?"
"How about we take things inside," I suggested. "Step backward."
He did as I instructed, and I entered his apartment. I kept the gun aimed at his head as I shut the door and turned the key in the lock. "Won't be good if we got rudely interrupted now, would we?"
"Who the fuck are you?" He snapped.
"I ask the questions, and I do the talking," I put some coldness in my voice. "First question, are you alone?"
"Yeah."
"Good. Let's stroll into your bedroom, shall we? And keep your hands where I can see them."
He turned around and led the way into his apartment. I initially feared he was lying, but as we went past the living room into the bedroom, I realized nobody else was inside but him. His apartment was about the same size as mine. His, though, was ultra-masculine and somewhat appealing. I saw no evidence of any of his bitches around.
His bed took up half the space in his bedroom. The walls were adorned with Afrocentric artwork; two movie posters were plastered on the wall featuring famous black-American actors. A BLACK LIVES MATTER calligraphy stood at the head of the bed. The air was redolent with the noxious smell of cannabis.
"Turn around and sit on the bed," I said, still maintaining my gun at his head. "And don't try anything foolish."
He did just that, glaring at me as he rested his hands on his knees.
"I know you," he said. "I've seen your skanky ass before. Yeah, you're that bitch that lives across from me."
"How do you figure?"
"Easy. You're about the only white bitch that's got a hair-do like yours. What the fuck do you want?"
"I've got a second question for your ass," I snarled. "How come you've noticed me, but ain't once said boo to me."
He looked at me, confused. "That supposed to mean something?"
"Yes, it is," I said. "I've known about you for a long time, Benji. I've spied you many times around the block. I always wanted to get your attention, but you ain't never bated an eye my way. You've no idea how pissed that's made me. That's why I had to come to you like this."
"You sure as hell got my attention now, bitch. So what the fuck do you want?"
"What I want is you," I said. "I know you've got plenty of side bitches around. I've seen the way the flock around you like moths to a lightbulb. I ain't here asking you for a date—I know I'm never up to your standard—what I want is for you to give me some loving. Give it to me right here and now, or else I'll pop you one right in your forehead."
He looked at me, stunned and dismayed like he couldn't believe his ears. "You ain't fucking serious," he said.
"Damn right, I'm serious," I replied. "You forget I've got a gun aimed at your skull."
"You said you want some loving. What exactly do you mean?"
"Guess you ain't listening well enough. What I want is some of this black dick you're packing in your jeans," I came forward and grabbed at his crotch, to which he gave a startled jump. "I want every inch of girth you've got hiding in your jeans. I want you to stick it in me and fuck me. Give me a good fuck, and I promise not to hurt you. I'll go away and you won't ever hear from me again."
"You're one crazy slut. The fuck you gonna keep a hot steel pointed at me if we're fucking. This some fucking joke to you, bitch?"
"Ain't nobody laughing here, Benji. Are we gonna do this or not? Time's fucking wasting. What's it gonna be—a bullet in the head, or your big black dick stretching my cunt in your bed. Tick-tock, motherfucker."
It didn't take him long to get to at an answer.
"Alright," he conceded. "But you're gonna have to aim that steel elsewhere so I can get out of my gear."
I turned my wrist sideways, aiming the gun carelessly at the window and stepped back to give him room. Benji stood up and undid his belt buckle. Seconds later, he shoved his jeans and boxers down his legs, and I got my first glimpse of his tool. To my disappointment, he hadn't grown hard; I'd figured all this time he would have been somewhat enticed by my presence. No matter, that could be worked out.
He kicked his clothes aside and stood naked except for his tank top, waiting on me. "Alright, bitch. What you got planned next?"
"Nothing except this," I said.
I then fell to my knees before him and gripped his cock in my hand. I stroked his cock into my mouth, and immediately worked that gorgeous girth of his with my lips and tongue. I half-shut my eyes as I went on jamming his cock down my throat. His cock tasted so fucking good. Benji was responding well to my workout. He had both hands gripping my head in a vice and went on thrusting his meat, making me gurgle hard.
"Damn, you got yourself some good mouth on you, bitch," he muttered.
"Hmmm." I took a moment to catch my breath while stroking his shaft. I wiped strings of saliva from my mouth. "I bet you'd be enjoying this already if you'd looked my way before."
"But you still got your piece of steel."
"Oh, this?" I looked at the gun as if I had forgotten that I was still carrying it. "It ain't fucking loaded. Look." I aimed it at one of his movie posters and pulled the trigger. What sounded was a 'click' and nothing else. I looked at Benji and smiled gleefully. "See what I mean?"
His face curled into a vicious snarl as he realized how much of a fool I'd made him.
"You fucking stupid bitch!" He roared. "You mean you had me cowering this whole time for fucking nothing?"
"Well, it fucking served its purpose, didn't it?" I retorted.
"Fuck! Come here, bitch!" He pulled me roughly to my feet and flung me onto his bed. "Fucking two-timing bitch! You been scaring me this while for nothing? Aiming a fucking empty piece to my head? The fucking nerve . . . I'm gonna fucking show you now."
He pulled my skirt down my legs. I wasn't wearing any panties underneath. He slapped my butt twice so hard I howled from the contact.
"Shut the fuck up, bitch! I'm gonna show you."
Benji jumped onto my back and I could feel his cock probing between my buttock. I spread my thighs for him to take a better aim. He eventually slipped his dick where he needed it to go. I braced myself for the impact, but it wasn't enough to hold back my scream when he rammed home inside me.
"Yeah," he gloated into my ear. "That hurt, don't it, bitch? Yeah, it's about to hurt even more," he grunted as he began grinding against me. "Gonna teach you a lesson you skank white ass ain't ever gonna forget."
He pressed his bulk against me and grind against me as rough and hard, punishing me with the brute force of his girth. Yes, it did fucking hurt. I grunted and whimpered in pain with my eyes shut. But amid my mind screaming in hurt, there came the glimmer of pleasure. The longer Benji slammed his dick inside me, what once was pain evolved into something delightful. I didn't want him to stop fucking me. He kinda knew it, too, as he then turned my face to the side and stuck his tongue into my lips. I kissed him back, then muttered something about wanting him fuck me like the dirty fucking whore that I was.
Benji rolled off me, and pulled me over to get on top of him. Now he had all the time to smack my ass while I rode him to my climax. He pulled me down and squeezed my ass cheeks in his grasp as he went on pounding me harder. I craved his cock so bad. I couldn't stop myself from screaming into a second orgasm. He pulled out of me in time and jerked his cum over my butt. We rested for a while, and then we went at it again till the day got dark outside.
That was the start of our beautiful relationship. Benji still dates other bitches, but I don't sweat it anymore; I'm still his number one bitch in the neighborhood. I've got pussy ready to fuck for days. The other bitches have begun hearing my name, and know that whenever I come by his pad, it's time for them to get the step on. At least I don't have to pretend that I want to kill his ass anymore.