Truthfully, I wasn’t looking forward to it. His dick was no bigger than my thumb and after fucking him, I had to fuck somebody else just to get satisfied. Marco was the only reason I went out and bought me a battery-operated boyfriend. I understood why women had them a BOB; because of non-fucking or unendorsed motherfuckers like Marco. To be candid, the only reason I fucked him in the beginning was because Reggie and I needed him to supply us. He was our South America connection and on top of that, he had the pure shit. His shit rocked. I didn’t use drugs, but when we made the connection with Marco and our shit hit the streets, Reggie’s fame immediately shot through the roof. He was the toast of the city for supplying some fire shit. That was why we were surprised he wasn’t on anyone’s radar like DEA or NYPD.
On that level, Marco was the man with the best shit and top of that he was a fucking millionaire at best and I loved the perks that came with being his flavor of the month. Marco’s money could be used as wrapping paper to wrap around this entire fucking globe. He was a well-known cocaine supplier and executioner. He was someone you didn’t fuck with. I was turned on by his money and status, not his dick. And now that I had my own money and was able to buy myself a $30,000 Hermes Birkin bag or $110,000 Maserati Spyder, I honestly had no use for the old man. I’d let him eat my pussy if he’d like. But that was as far as I was going to let it go.
At the end of our conversation, he told me to tell Reggie to be available before he left town, because he needed to have a meeting with him. I assured him I’d do just that.
New York’s Finest Kiki Swinson
Chapter 7 – The Penthouse Suite
Reggie wasn’t too happy with me because I let Vanessa beat me to their apartment. She let me inside of their fifteenth floor penthouse suite. She kept herself laced in five hundred dollar blouses and six hundred dollar skirts and slacks made from Gucci, Valentino and Marc Jacobs. Her shoe game was more fierce than her wardrobe. When I looked at her Valentino sunny check dress, I knew she’d hit my brother up for at least five grand and been shopping recently, because this dress just came in this season. It was no secret that she was a label whore and was consistently in competition with me, but whether she knew it or not, I wasn’t fazed by her antics. I was the queen around here so everything she did to make herself feel like she was better than me was done in vain. As usual, I acted like I was happy to see her.
“ What’s up mommy?” I greeted her by extending a hug.
“ I’m good. What’s up with you?” she replied as she hugged me back. She gave me this whack ass pat on my back as she embraced me. I could tell she didn’t want to hug me. But I left well enough alone because she was being her normal self. And as long as she wanted to play her games, I vowed to do the same thing.
“ You know me. I’m always on the hunt to find ways to get rich so I can retire from my daytime gig.”
“ Just follow your brother’s lead and you’ll be just fine,” she assured me and then she closed the front door behind us.
“ Where is he anyway?” I asked her as I started walking down the hallway towards their family room.
“ He’s in the back watching TV,” she told me.
I continued down the hallway and then I entered into the family room where I found Reggie slipping on his Prada flip flops. “Where are you going?” I asked him.
He took his wallet off the coffee table and said, “Come on, let’s take a ride to see mom and dad.”
I was not in the mood to drive out to the Bronx to see our parents. They relocated to White Plains a couple years ago from Harlem. My mom thought the move would do our father some good. When you hear people say, “You can take the person out the ghetto, but you can’t take the ghetto out the person,” believe them.” That was exactly what my mom was going through
On that level, Marco was the man with the best shit and top of that he was a fucking millionaire at best and I loved the perks that came with being his flavor of the month. Marco’s money could be used as wrapping paper to wrap around this entire fucking globe. He was a well-known cocaine supplier and executioner. He was someone you didn’t fuck with. I was turned on by his money and status, not his dick. And now that I had my own money and was able to buy myself a $30,000 Hermes Birkin bag or $110,000 Maserati Spyder, I honestly had no use for the old man. I’d let him eat my pussy if he’d like. But that was as far as I was going to let it go.
At the end of our conversation, he told me to tell Reggie to be available before he left town, because he needed to have a meeting with him. I assured him I’d do just that.
New York’s Finest Kiki Swinson
Chapter 7 – The Penthouse Suite
Reggie wasn’t too happy with me because I let Vanessa beat me to their apartment. She let me inside of their fifteenth floor penthouse suite. She kept herself laced in five hundred dollar blouses and six hundred dollar skirts and slacks made from Gucci, Valentino and Marc Jacobs. Her shoe game was more fierce than her wardrobe. When I looked at her Valentino sunny check dress, I knew she’d hit my brother up for at least five grand and been shopping recently, because this dress just came in this season. It was no secret that she was a label whore and was consistently in competition with me, but whether she knew it or not, I wasn’t fazed by her antics. I was the queen around here so everything she did to make herself feel like she was better than me was done in vain. As usual, I acted like I was happy to see her.
“ What’s up mommy?” I greeted her by extending a hug.
“ I’m good. What’s up with you?” she replied as she hugged me back. She gave me this whack ass pat on my back as she embraced me. I could tell she didn’t want to hug me. But I left well enough alone because she was being her normal self. And as long as she wanted to play her games, I vowed to do the same thing.
“ You know me. I’m always on the hunt to find ways to get rich so I can retire from my daytime gig.”
“ Just follow your brother’s lead and you’ll be just fine,” she assured me and then she closed the front door behind us.
“ Where is he anyway?” I asked her as I started walking down the hallway towards their family room.
“ He’s in the back watching TV,” she told me.
I continued down the hallway and then I entered into the family room where I found Reggie slipping on his Prada flip flops. “Where are you going?” I asked him.
He took his wallet off the coffee table and said, “Come on, let’s take a ride to see mom and dad.”
I was not in the mood to drive out to the Bronx to see our parents. They relocated to White Plains a couple years ago from Harlem. My mom thought the move would do our father some good. When you hear people say, “You can take the person out the ghetto, but you can’t take the ghetto out the person,” believe them.” That was exactly what my mom was going through
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