Page 5 of A Miami Love Tale


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Before I go any further, let me introduce myself to y’all. My name is Rashard Lewis, but everybody in Miami calls me Shard. For a nigga to only be 23 years old, I have to admit that I was doing pretty damn good for myself. My cousin Dontae and I owned our very own tattoo shop here in Miami, called “Tat Em Up.” This was a little project that we had going on now for about two years. As kids, Dontae and I had big dreams of having our very own shop, and once we had saved up enough money, we did exactly that. I lived a pretty wild life outside of work. Everybody wanted to fuck with Shard, but I was nowhere near ready to settle down with no woman. A nigga had a bitch for every fuckin day of the week and honestly, I was okay with that. I guess you can say that I got my doggish ways from my no good ass daddy. That nigga has never been a part of my life; shit, I don’t even know what that man even looks like.

I know they say it’s a man’s job to raise a boy, but I’ll admit that my mother did a damn good job of raising me. I may be a little fucked up around the edges, but my mom raised me by herself the best way that she knew how, and for that, I’m eternally grateful for her. I’ll admit that I gave my mother hell while I was growing up. All I wanted to do was hang out in the streets, fuck bad ass bitches, and sell fuckin weed. At the time, my mom was working at the Miami Dade transit as a bus driver, so her ass was never fuckin home. That led me to be out in the streets, doing shit that I wasn’t supposed to be doing. While I was a bad ass, a nigga was still smart as hell. I knew that in life, no bitch wanted no dumb ass nigga, so if all I had was a high school diploma to show my mom my accomplishments back then, that was fine with me. The smile that I saw on my mother’s face the very first day that she saw me and Dontae’s shop was priceless. For the second time in my life, I actually saw that my mom was proud of something that I had done; the first time was when I graduated high school.

Now, I didn’t intentionally treat bitches like shit, it’s just a nigga didn’t know the correct way to treat them. When I refer to women as bitches, God knows that I mean no harm, it’s just a figure of speech that I have come to terms with over the years. I didn’t grow up in a household with a father that would show my mom how much he loved her, so I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. Loving these bitches, to me, was blessing them with some good dick and leaving a few hundreds on the dresser for them when I was done; but something about Imani made me want to change all of that. Something about that little girl made me want to learn the correct way to love and treat a woman. All I knew about this girl was that her name was Imani and she had a nigga ready to settle down with her ass, if only she was ready to work with a nigga.

I’ll admit, I co

me with a lot of damn baggage. I have numerous amounts of hoes that I’m currently fuckin right now. I have damn near one hundred nude pictures of bitches that I’m fuckin with right now as well, but if Imani is able to put up with my ass, I swear for God that I will change all my ways for her. I swear, my mom might fuck around and have a heart attack when I tell her that I’m feeling somebody. Since I was I high school, I have never in my life brought a bitch over to meet my damn mother, so this was for damn sure going to be a big surprise.

Chapter 7: Breesha

It had been two weeks since Dontae and I had been talking. It was the same routine every day; he would call me in the mornings before I go to work, and he would call me at night before I went to sleep, and we would constantly text each other throughout the day. I found out that he was 26 years old while I was 24, which I liked because I liked for men to be older than me in a relationship. I wasn’t in the business of having to raise no man–that was a mother’s job, not mine. He also owned his own tattoo shop called “Tat Em’ Up” out in Miami, which was an added plus. I loved a nigga that had something going for himself.

I really liked him, I’m not going to lie, but the only thing that kind of set me off was the fact that he had a daughter. He told me that the only relationship he had with his baby mama, Sharice, was strictly pertaining to his daughter, Bria, who was four years old. He showed me pictures of her and she was so beautiful. I’ve witnessed people that I know go through drama with a man that had a baby mama. I wasn’t up for all that baby mama drama, but I really liked Dontae and I didn’t want that to be the reason why we couldn’t take a chance at this whole relationship thing. I just hoped that he was truthful when he said that Sharice and him weren’t fuckin. God knows that I would leave his ass for that, because I had already let my guard down and fell for this nigga. I know it was too early to have feelings this strong, but I think that I was falling in love with this man. He paid attention to me, he listened to me as I talked, and I could tell that he genuinely cared about me.

I know I lived by the motto “niggas ain’t shit.” but Dontae was slowly breaking down those walls. There was something about him that had me very intrigued. We hadn’t even had sex yet, and please believe a bitch was more than ready, but I was just trying to take one thing at a time. Dontae wasn’t making the situation any easier, either. Whenever we would go out, he would be all over me; it’s like he couldn’t get enough of me, and I hadn’t even given him any pussy yet. I was trying to be on that 90-day rule thing, but I knew for a fact that I wasn’t going to be able to hold out that much longer. This man was so fine, and I couldn’t control my body while I was around him. The farthest we went was tongue kissing and even as we did that, I wanted him to just fuck the shit out of me, but I couldn’t go there yet. I was scared that after we had sex, I wouldn’t be able to control my emotions. All around, I was just scared of getting hurt, point blank period.

I was standing in my mirror, flat ironing the last strand of hair on my head as I got ready for my date with Dontae. I don’t know where he was taking me, but I was damn sure excited. After finishing up my hair, I walked inside of my room so that I could get dressed. Tonight I was wearing a cute blank, lace dress that I had gotten from out of Urban Outfitters the other day. I was taking a big chance by wearing this dress, because the sides were cut out and you could see the sides of my boobs, so my little heart tattoos that I had on each side were exposed. The dress stopped right at the center of my thigh and to top it off, I wore my all black gladiator sandals from Steve Madden.

Just as I was changing purses, I heard my doorbell ring. After applying lip gloss and spraying on my Paris Hilton perfume, I was walking from out of my bedroom. I went down the hall to let Imani know that I was leaving, and then I was opening the front door for Dontae. He looked so sexy in his all black True Religion jeans that were slightly hanging off of his ass, with a red and black True Religion shirt on. On his feet was a pair of black Timberlands to compliment his outfit. If there was one thing I loved about these Miami niggas, it was their sense of style and fashion.

“If you want to stick to that bullshit ass 90-day rule, I suggest you go change that dress,” Dontae said, eye fucking me as I gave him a smile.

“What’s wrong with my dress?” I teased, spinning around for him. He caught me when my back was turned to him and pulled me into his chest.

“Do you feel what the fuck you just did?” he asked, and I could feel his dick poking me in my back.

“Hmm I feel it. Let’s go Dontae,” I said, trying to pull away but he wouldn’t let me. I turned around and looked at him, and I swear I think that I was in love.

“You plan on letting me go?” I asked, because he had a strong ass grip on my waist.

“No I don’t. I have no plans of ever letting you go,” he said and I smiled, kissing him on his lips.

After finally pulling away, we headed and got inside of his all black, 2015 Chevy Camaro. I could see that this nigga had a thing for Camaros, because the night at TGI Fridays, I watched him drive off in a red Camaro. The whole way to where we were going, the ride was pretty much quiet. I don’t know what Dontae was thinking about, but the main thing that was on my mind right now was that I hoped that I was able to control myself tonight. I don’t know why, but I just had a feeling that tonight was the night that I was going to receive some of his thug lovin.

12: 01 A.M

After having a beautiful dinner tonight at a restaurant on Hollywood beach, called GG’S, Dontae and I were sitting in one of the lounge chairs together at the beach. It was pretty dark out here, but I was able to tell that we were the only ones in this area. He was leaned back with one arm resting behind his head, and the other one resting on my flat stomach. I was sitting in between his legs, and the shit was so relaxing. This moment right here, nothing else mattered to me right now–not work, not worrying about if I was making the right choice by being here right now with Dontae, nothing. I knew that I was making the right decision and I didn’t think that I would be able to hold off on giving him the goodies anymore. He had been placing soft kisses on my neck and shoulders, and it was feeling so good. The whole time, I was trying not to moan out loud, but once he found my spot on my neck, I could no longer control myself. His soft, full lips felt so great, and I felt like I would cum from that alone.

“Breesha?” he said, whispering in my ear. His voice was husky and dripped with sex, and it was making me want to fuck him right there.

“Yes?” I answered him with my eyes closed, enjoying the feel of his warm, mint breath on my neck.

“Let’s fuck,” he said, reaching his hand down, putting it inside my panties. I knew I should have never wore this damn dress. I should have listened to his ass and went back in the house and threw on some jeans or something.

“Baby, don’t do this to me,” I moaned, but I didn’t push his hands away. I was confused right now. It’s like my mind was saying no, but my body and my soul were screaming hell yes!

“Do what? I just want to make you feel good,” he said, gently massaging my hairless pussy. He was still sucking on my neck, and I’m pretty sure that I had a good amount of passion marks left on my bright ass skin. He kept slipping his fingers inside of my wetness, moving in and out of me slowly. Eventually, I started rolling my hips so that I could match the rotation of his hand.

“Dontae please,” I moaned.

“Please what?” he asked, lifting me up a little so he could have better access to my pussy. The way he was flicking his thumb and index finger ever so softly against my clit was driving me insane. Never have I gone this crazy from just getting fingered, but it’s the way he was fingering me. He took his time with me, and I was loving every second of it.

“Dontae stoppp,” I moaned, trying to sit up because I could feel myself about to cum.

‘Baby, you know damn well you don’t want me to stop, look how wet this shit is,” he whispered into my neck, and I could hear my pussy making all types of squishy noises from

me being so wet.

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