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I dropped Hazel off at her mom's unkempt apartment. It's a two-bedroom apartment and Hazel has told me about the living conditions they're in.
Loren, Hazel's mom, has a stepson that has his own room and Loren and her boyfriend have their room. I have a two-bedroom house, but if I had two kids they'd be sharing the room or I'll move into a bigger home. She has the money, she makes 10k just for being Hazel's mom (and that's just in one month).
Hazel sleeps wherever and she often has back issues. Loren thinks it's because she weighs a little more.
I have a chubby kid.
Her doctors say it's because of her lack of sleep, poor diet with her mother, stress, possible depression, and water retention because of dehydration.
Overeating was also brought up, but Loren doesn't feed Hazel nearly enough.
I punch the steering wheel multiple times before driving off. I didn't trust her with my little girl and especially not her piece of shit of a boyfriend, they both lost my respect when Hazel told me about their sad parenting.
I look in my notes app at Lance's address. Once I'm out of my car I take in a deep breath and walk inside of the building, going up a shit ton of stairs.
The apartment is at the top of everything, and this is going to be my workout for today. When I was about to knock I hear arguing followed by a loud bang, "you bitch," I heard Lance yell from outside of the door followed by another loud bang.
I could hear Parisa fighting and cussing back, but I want to fucking kick this door down and kill this motherfucker.
I hate men that hurt women.
After everything goes silent and I regain my cool I knock on the door.
Lance opens the door right away with a red mark on his face. I nod my head as a what's up, and he does the same letting me inside, "you okay dude. Look a little hurt," I laugh walking over to his couch and sitting.
Where the fuck is Angel?
"Not your dude but I'm Gucci," he responds like a teenage boy.
Haven't heard anyone say they're 'Gucci' sense 2015.
I laugh at his failed attempt to intimidate me, "okay dude."
He looks like he wants to knock me the fuck out but I dare him to lay a finger on me or a finger on Parisa in front of me.
He'd end up just like his bitch ass friend. "Let us get to business," I suggest ending our staring match.
He comes over to sit next to me and I turn my body to face him, "didn't I tell you I had someone to talk to? Want me to dive in yo shit again," Lance yells to the person standing behind me.
Turning around I see Parisa standing there with a beat-up face. Damn them two must got down.
Her tearful eyes meet mine and I get up walking up to her, "nice to meet you," her shaken voice makes my heart pound. "You too," I respond and she holds her hand out to shake mine, "I'm a hugger angel," I hold my arms out and she wraps her arms around me and I do the same.
Her hug is warm and comfortable. I don't want to pull away and if Lance can't treat her right I sure fucking could.
"I'll kill him if you tell me to," I whisper in her ear before pulling away from the hug. Looking down at her I can see her silent cries for help, but us looking at each other didn't last, "you want to fuck my wife or sum, we have things to talk about," Lances annoying voice talks behind me.
Yea I do. I wanna fuck her until she says SpongeBob.
I might get her to change her safe word.
She pulls away from the hug and goes to what I assume is the kitchen. Going back over to the couch Lance starts to talk my ear off about what he would do if I gave him at least 10,000 a month instead of 300.
Parisa walks into the living room giving me and her husband a cup of tea? Coffee? I take a sip of it and it's definitely the best tea I've ever had.
My grandma wouldn't be happy about hearing that.
I watch Lance gulp his down before he goes back to talking. I sit mine on the table and Parisa stays there listening to the conversation, "what about me," she asks looking at Lance, "what about you," he asks sarcastically with a smirk.
"I have over 30k in student loan debts and I've been paying yours," she responds in a confused tone. "So, I didn't ask you to pay it," he responds to her in a question.
"You actually. Huh, never mind... you'll get your karma," she says with an attitude. Lance smacks his lips, "leave," he tells her but she stays asking, "what did you guys have for lunch," trying to start a decent conversation.
"Roast beef," I respond.
Women with outies deserve so much, only a little boy would disagree. Parisa has a beautiful brown pussy. It's so wonderfully made and a work of fucking art.
Never understood why it has a bad stigma and is seen as 'ugly'. I will get on my knees and suck the fuck out of any woman that's insecure about her outie.
But right now Parisa is the woman I want to suck again.
Looking at her with the look that made her go crazy last time she smiles and I continue, "roast beef is my favorite thing to eat." Sending her a wink she blushes and smiles harder. She walks off and I turn around looking at her round ass. Fuck!
I can feel my pants tighten, but I try not to make it obvious by opening my legs and pulling my pants down a little. "If I let you fuck her would you give me 10k a month," I hear Lance asks? Quickly turning my head I look at him muddled, "no," I respond harshly.
I already fucked her.
Looking at him I can see him start to cough hard. His cough sounds like he's trying to cough up mucus, it sounds wet mixed with gasping for air.
His body starts to shake and I quickly get up. I'm about to scream for Parisa, but I feel her presence behind me "is he dead yet," she asks wrapping her arm around me.
He falls off of the couch due to uncontrollable shaking.
Foam starts to come from his mouth and once he stops I look down at her with shock written on my face, and she looks like she's pleased with herself. "Why have you kill him when I can do it, but Angel can you clean up the mess," she asks sweetly.
"I only call you Angel," my tone turns aggressive and I grab her by her chin, pulling her up to me. She nods her head and I lean down kissing her with lust and passion in one.
She moans into the kiss and that causes my boner to grow even bigger. It's right on her stomach so I know she feels it.
While pulling away I tug on her lip a bit before disconnecting our lips, "let me make a few phone calls," I tell her before turning my back and pulling out my phone.
How the fuck does she know I specialize in this shit?
During the phone conversation, they inform me of what they'll do and it ends within minutes, "we're fucking leaving," I make known and walks to her door. She doesn't ask any questions, just grabs her shoes and walks out with me.
We walk hand in hand down to my car, and the feeling of her soft hands within mine shoots a nerve through me.
