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Sonya's backyard was overcapacity, but that's how she loved it. With Shawn, her oldest son, returning back in to society, all was well. Her skilled, brown hands flipped grilled meat with precision while music, laughter, and connections filled the air.
"I know yo big ass had to at least be fucking the guard, I can't go that long without a good box," Ermias joked. He rolled the dice and smirked when everyone else groaned.
"Shittin' me, you know I had to get some guard pussy!" Shawn cackled and dapped his homeboy, RayRay, who was wheelchair bound.
"Ain't shit for real," Jermaine shook his head at his hilarious brother.
RayRay shook his head, rolling the dice in his hand and looking towards the small group of pretty females.
"Hell nawl, hell nawl!" Ermias exhaled the smoke, denying RayRay access before he could get it.
"Nigga, what?"
"That's Bey's bitch, you shittin'! You know both of them muthafuckas crazy 'bout each other."
Shawn nodded his head and nearly grimaced at the stories he'd heard about Beyoncé and her wicked ways. Robyn had to have some fire pussy, if not, their homegirl wouldn't act the way she does.
"Mmcht, what about the other one?" RayRay swallowed, changing the subject. He nodded towards a high-yellow red broad that went by the name of Lo.
Ermias turned his head to peep game, when he laid eyes on the chick RayRay was speaking about the dice game was no longer important.
Robyn, the most sought out girl in the hood, had legs for days. With her usual caramel skin light, it was tanned underneath Houston's blazing sun. Her eyes were exotic, a mixture of God's most earthly creations. Her breast were small, but her hips were to die for. Beyoncé could spot those curvaceous love handles from miles away.
Then there was Normani, who had the most beautiful skin. Her almond eyes were just as alluring as her soft voice, which brought every hood nigga to their knees. Her breasts were plump and sat up perfectly, her ass was just as ample and sat out a bit further.
Both girls were all around tens and their bond was something that couldn't be broken. They stood by each other's side like the number 11, it was never one or the other.
On the other hand, there was Onika, Lauren, Skye, and though all five girls were close, there was also an unspoken rule of friendship. While all beautiful in their own way, there was one common denominator—Beyoncé. Normani excluded, everyone wanted the five foot seven broad in their possession. She had the wits, the looks, a piece, and swagger that matched.
