Page 12 of Virgo Type Sh*t (BLP Signs of Love #1)

“You know we go togetha now,” I told her while I watched her ass ripple when my pelvis hit it. “This pussy good as fuck!”

She had those two dimples in the dip of her back. Yeah, I called those thumb anchors, and I used the hell out of them. Mekole’s legs started to buckle. “Falling ain’t what you want to do, Meek. I promise if you lay flat on this bed, I’m gonna tear your ass up more than I am now.”

Those legs found their strength. I knew my baby needed a stroke break.

I pulled out, spread her plump ass cheeks, then bent to give her pretty pussy some tongue action.

I moved one of my hands from her ass cheek to her titty.

The second that I found that nipple, I applied pressure.

That pussy spit the fuck up in my face. I loved a juicy pussy.

We both hissed when I slid back into that pussy. For the next ten to fifteen minutes, I took her through a variety of stroke options. It was my goal to find out what worked best for us and was most satisfactory. “Fuck!” I pulled out and let my nut go on her back.

Yeah, I was semi tripping. Before she got in the shower, we exchanged STD test results.

I still should have strapped up because she did let me know that she wasn’t on birth control.

We’d have that adult birth control conversation later today.

It wasn’t my plan to get her pregnant or anything, but if it was God’s will . . .

A Short Time Later . . .

“People sick, man. That’s exactly why when I have churn, I’m not about ta play about my churn bein’ ’round everybody. If you not directly connected ta me, a docta, or teacha, then you not ga be round my churn,” I said with a turned-up lip.

Ned nodded. “Yeah, I don’t get people who let their kids around any and everybody. Especially new boyfriends or girlfriends. That shit is wicked.”

Tonight, I was with Ned on a mission. We weren’t too far from home, in Edisto.

Johnathan Grumble was on the menu of death tonight.

He had a problem with not only putting his hands on his girlfriend’s son to beat him, but he also molested him.

The mother’s ass wasn’t shit, but she was already handled by female counterparts of our organization.

The grandfather was the one who wanted both of them gone.

He didn’t give a fuck that it was his daughter because his overall protection was for his innocent six-year-old grandson.

What made the shit crazy was that he was a sex offender on the damn list with more than one conviction.

I wanted to understand how the fuck his ass wasn’t in jail.

Dude was a fuck ass who lived with his mama who was a saved and sanctified enabler from my research.

She went to church almost every day of the week for one thing or another, then came home to cater to her pedophile son.

Oh, and she had grandchildren within her household because she was a foster parent.

You know the state had no idea that her son lived with her, because if they did, she wouldn’t have those kids.

“Enough of that shit.” Ned waved off the subject. “How is shit going with Mekole? It’s been a lil second since y’all made shit official.” He chuckled. “Shit, you told her that she was your ole lady before you took that girl on a damn date.”

I chortled because I did that shit. “Man, shut up. None of dat shit matta now. We go out on dates twice a week. She plan one and I plan da otha.”

He was right. The night that we made it official, we hadn’t been on a date yet.

That was taken care of the next night. My daddy didn’t raise a fool.

I implemented the same practice that my parents used.

Two planned dates a week, no matter how small.

The man planned one and the woman planned the other.

The abrupt manner in how our relationship started called for both Mekole and me to put in extra effort to get to know each other.

One thing that I noticed off the bat about my woman was her sarcastic ass mouth.

Her ass could go blow for blow with a person, but it was only if she deemed it necessary.

She wasn’t about all that talking shit. When I told her how I planned to treat her in our relationship, she gave me one no-smile response.

Show me. That was exactly what I planned to do.

“That’s good, man. You gotta put in the effort with your woman, sometimes even when you don’t feel like it.

” Ned smiled as he spoke. “With what we do in this profession, you’re going to need someone who is your peace.

You have a special case though, because your woman is in a business that is directly connected to what you do. She needs the same peace that you do.”

I took in what he said. Croy and Fiona sat both Mekole and me down to have the same conversation a few days ago. It was also the day I learned some things about Mekole’s past.

Let’s Talk . . .

Fiona and Croy invited me and my baby over for dinner. That was cool, because it was on some couple shit. I made sure I busted that pussy down before we got to the house, hopefully to curve my desire to bust her ass down.

“Damn, Fiona, I ain’t know that you could cook like this,” I complimented. When she told us that she was going to cook Mexican food, my mind told me tacos. Nah, she had all kinds of dishes that didn’t come from those seasoning packets that you got from the seasoning line in the grocery store.

Mekole sucked her teeth. “I told you that she could cook.” She rolled her pretty ass eyes.

“Da question is, can you cook like dis?” At the end of the day, my ass wouldn’t be eating Fiona’s food. Like most men did, I wanted a woman who could cook.

Her head tilted to the side. When that smile dropped, I knew her ass was about to say some shit that would make the average nigga want to chop her ass in the damn throat. I loved that feisty shit though. It just made me want to find a new position to fuck her in.

“Tumnus Jethro, one thing for certain and two things for sure: Anything that Fiona can do, I can do. Not to say that I can do it better, but I do it differently. No, I don’t cook like this. I cook like me,” she said with a sharp tone. “Here’s a question for you. Can you cook?”

Croy choked on his food. Fiona patted his back while he drank his water. Once he regained his composure, he fixed his gaze on me with a rigid face. “That’s what T.J. stands for? Tumnus Jethro?”

“Don’t play, Croy. You know my daddy’s name is Jethro,” I responded. “Tumnus is from one of my mama favorite movies, man.”

Croy asked what movie it was from, and I told him. Him and his mean ass wife tried to hold in their laughs. They did horribly. “Man, that shit is tough. I see why you go by T.J.”

“Uh-uh,” Mekole interjected. “Not too much on my man. That’s not what we’re going to do.”

Fiona giggled. “You better stand up for your man, Cuz. Let’s get to the real reason why Croy and I wanted to sit down and talk to y’all.”

I knew there was a reason more than just dinner, as to why they asked us to come here. I knew Croy well enough to know if he invited us here that it wouldn’t be on some bullshit. “What’s up?”

Fiona’s forearms leaned on the table after she moved her plate to the side. “Mekole, you know I love you. I’ve seen you grow so much, and I’m so proud of you. After what you recently went through, I want you to be happy beyond even what you think you can be.”

What she went through. I turned my body toward my baby. “What did you recently go through, if you don’t mind me asking? We haven’t really talked too much about our past.”

Croy mumbled about my geechie going out the window when it came to serious topics.

He knew me well from our interactions over time.

Through education and business acumen, my code switch was immaculate.

The industry that I was a part of was dominated by good ole boys when it came to the selling of the homes.

Yeah, my people dominated the factories, but that was it.

I made sure that the majority of my sales associates were black.

That was my way to provide a balanced universe in my mind.

Mekole didn’t face me as she spoke. It looked like she went into some kind of trance.

“Long story short, I had a son recently who died at birth, Derrick Junior. My best friend, Faheeta, stood by my side my entire pregnancy.” A smile broke through.

“We were pregnant together. Ultimate best friend goals, you know.”

She giggled before the trance came back.

“Faheeta went into labor like two in the morning on the day of my baby boy’s funeral.

I was there with her up until she started to push.

The grief was a lot, so she gave me grace.

An hour before the funeral, James let me know that the grief was too much, and he couldn’t see his son lowered in the ground.

I found out shortly after that my best friend and man had been fucking with each other for over a year, and my goddaughter was my boyfriend’s daughter.

The day of my son’s funeral, James wanted to be with his living baby since there was nothing that he could do about the dead one. ”

My eyes bounced between her, Croy, and Fiona.

It was like I needed some kind of confirmation that this story was legit.

Wasn’t no fucking way these fraud ass fuckas did that shit.

After Croy nodded to answer the unspoken question, I found the questions that wanted to be asked.

“Um, what the fuck did you do when you found out?”

She finally faced me. “Initially, nothing. It was business and friendship as usual with a little bit of surveillance. James and I had already broken up. Some more months passed, and the loving couple went on a baecation to Vegas. Faheeta was supposed to be at a business conference that she lied about going to, and as far as everyone knew, I didn’t know anything about where James’s ass was. ”