Months pasted by and more red flags popped up. The nigga Ten-fo would call me asking did I want to go out for a bite to eat or hit up the nightclubs or shot dice with him. That shit through me for a mad loop because I didn't even give that nigga the new number. Furthmore, after the indictments reigned down and Cupid had disappeared, Ten-fo knew I didn't go out like that. And the times that I did go out was because Cupid dragged me out the house. I told Ten-fo I was straight and he just stop calling my phone. Then another red flag came about. Tell me why the nigga Champ called my phone out the blue. This nigga Champ called me and asked to buy a ten birds. I was appalled. First of all you don't ask to buy drugs. Either you buying them or you not. Secondly, Champ didn't have the money to buy a cutie let alone a skirt. He was a crackhead-slash-informant. I hung that bitch up so quick and changed my number. And I laughed at his ass before I hung it up. Remember the last time I saw champ he had assault rifles ready to take me out. My laugh was humor to his death. I really wanted to kill Champ ass!
After that episode, Champ and Ten-fo called my phone again with no shame. Then Darnell called me talking and playing his ra ra games. It didn't take me long to figure out them boys was working with the people. I tossed the phone and never picked one up after that. I went back to two-way-pagers. Real talk. I put on my thinking cap trying to really grasp them niggas motives. It took me a 20 kush blunts and two days but I cracked the jigsaw puzzle. I figured they was trying to keep me on the jack long enough to ping my location. Luckily, at the time, I had an untraceable phone. So even alphabet boys had a hard time finding where I was.
Then I fucked up. I fucked up real bad. One day, I was doing the dashboard to Fairlane mall and crashed my Oldschool Regal trying to get some new Jordan's. Can you believe that?Some fucking Jordan eights. Not the Jordan threes, by the way, our my favorites. It was the Jordan eights. And the accident was no bullshit. The car flipped over five times and landed upside-down on a superhighway. EMS rushed me the hospital where I dwelled in ICU.
Then the bullshit started up again. Remember the Federal agent that I paid off. He popped back up asking a million and one questions flaunting my dad Rolex in my face. He had me incensed. He asked stupid ass fictitious shit but the main question he wanted to know was where I lived?He knew I was on the doctor meds so he was trying his best to caught me down bad. He kept showing up until I kept hoing him. Then something happened two days before I was set to get released out the hospital. This nigga have to had paid the hospital because all of sudden they was not letting the Ecuador brothers sit in the room or come into the hospital period. I think the Federal nigga had them drug me with extra dosage also. Because clearly the meds took over and I mistakenly gave that bitch motherfucka my address.
Two days flew by and I was released. I kinda remembered what I did after I did it so I told the Ecuador brothers to take me to an low-key hotel. I could feel it in my bones that something was wrong and my house was the last place I was trying to go. I had to be still heavy off the meds and I must've of told them to stop at the house first then the hotel because I woke up and we was heading towards my crib. My first thought told them to turn around but I said we here so what the hell with it.
I should had went with my first mind because it would prove to be a bad move. We hit the block and I spotted all type of oddball shit off the rip. Off bat, I noticed a ice cream truck posted on the corner. That was red flag number one. I stayed in a blue collar neighborhood someplace far and I mean far out in the burbs. That shit was so far I didn't know the county. And one thing fo'sho and two things for certain I had never seen a ice cream truck since I had been out here. Ice cream trucks only post up in the hood. I knew something was wrong and to make a long story short, I knew some serious shit was about to go down.
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We hit the block and I glanced right for a quick second and noticed a tinted up sedan parked in a driveway five houses down from mines. You would thought my eye patch would had obstructed my view but I definitely noticed the tinted car. Mainly because it was the same chauffeur-driven-sedan that sat outside the high-rise apartments the day Champ and the Federal agent met up with the two suited-guys. It had the same black rims and everything. The two back doors swung open and I warned the Ecuador brothers to put our shit in reverse. I seen Champ first. Then I saw the Federal agent. Then I spotted the two-suited guys come out the sliding side-door of the ice cream truck. All four these niggas was packing guns a big as Chewbacca. My heart drop right then and there. It didn't drop because I was scare to die. It dropped because I seen it from a mile away that I was going into a very very dangerous situation and I didn't stop it.
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After I spotted the bobby trap I warned the Ecuador brothers twice. Soldier tried his best to reverse that big ass Long Sleeve Caddy but it was to late. I had no pistol and I knew I was through. I jumped in the paddy wagon and the Ecuador brothers went into a full blown shoot-out with Champ, the Federal agent and the suited-guys. When the smoke cleared the Ecuador brothers won the gun battle. Them niggas was real fucking assassins you hear me. Soldiers got shot in the arm but other then that they were completely fine. I took it upon myself to go snatch my dad Rolex right off the Federal Agent wrist while he laid there slump. The cops swarmed the premises and arrested us on spot. But that was just the beginning of ongoing problems. The two suited-guys they turned into maggot food were DEA agents. They charged the Ecuador brothers with the murder of an two DEA agents and one Federal agent. Them nigga niggas was looking at 700-years-plus-700-years. No exaggeration. The real nigga GODS blessed them before they could even go on trail. They represented themselves at prelims and the shit was tossed out by the judge. They defense was the Federal agent and DEA agents just jumped out shooting. They never announced themselves as the law enforcement or nothing. I guess it was called in as a drug bust but it was done unprofessional. But the Ecuador brothers urged how was it a drug-bust when they had an armed federal informant, Champ, with them. That was the icy on the cake because it made the whole so-called drug bust look extra phoney. The Ecuador brothers did a great job of painting it out for what it really was. A murder for hire. The judge looked over the evidence and set them boys free.
But you know the law had to get they get-back some type of way. They saw the Ecuador brothers were Ecuadorian and did a full background check on they ass. They uncovered they was illegally in the USA. Donald Trump personally made the call to shipped them aliens, as he call it, back to South American.
Unfortunately, the alphabet boys and Donald Trump was not done. My face was plastered all over the news alongside the Ecuador brothers. The D. A. was even calling for my day in court and I didn't even do shit. But once the Ecuador brothers beat they case they knew they had northing on me. Or did they??Remember them videos of me killing J-Rock and the other videos of me doing dirt. Yea you remember. They had them videos on deck. The hoe ass Federal agent never discarded them bitches. How stupid was I too not get the original copies. I thought he really got rid of the shit because I paid him his money. BUT HELL TO NAW HE DIDN'T. The head DEA, FBI and all them other alphabet boys sat me down and told me my run was over. They said I could personally hang my jersey up or they was gone do it for me. In so many words they gave me a warning I would be served papers soon and don't fight the charges or things could get worst. I was sick about it!!!!
They said they knew the videos were bold and could be inadmissible in court. But they warned me again that they ran the justice system and it was in my best interest to play by they rules. I obeyed and asked them what was in it for me. They gave me sweet deal I could not refuse. 18 years and I didn't have to snitch on nobody. I took that so quick. I was no idiot. I was on the videos selling bricks of raw and murdering cats. I couldn't beat that deal with Sammy Sosa bat. Get it?If you didn't get it well get this. I did the math in my head. I'm 24 right now and I would be 42 when I got out. I literally was about to get away with murder.
They slapped a tether bracelet on my ankle and told me I had two-and-half-months until I turned myself in. They let me free and you know what I had on my mind. STUNT STUNT STUNT. I wanted to have all the pictures in the world to show my cell-mate that I had THE EYE OF A DOUGHBOY!!!
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When the last time y'all checked my instagram????You must've been living under a rock if you ain't heard about my "28GRAM$ GOOD LIFE TOUR". I literally bought a tour bus and went state-to-state like I was one of these rap-dudes. But I ain't one of these rapping ass niggas. I'm a Doughboy. My tour started downsouth to pay homage to the big homie Big Meech. I made it rain in every titty bar you could think of. Magic City and Onyx got that Doughboy Magic first. And, in, just two nights I made it rain 5. 5 milly. Fuck it. I couldn't take the millions to the Feds with me. And I damn sure ain't see no Brinks-Armor-Truck pulling up after doing 18 years.
After I left Atlanta, I shot straight to Memphis-ten-a-key. I kicked it with the homie Yo Gotti and talked about having to do this time I was facing. To get that shit off our minds, we hit the nightclub. I just had one request for the Trap-God. Perform that "Bag"!We had the gun shooters for the haters and trashbags for exotic dancers. It was a wonderful feeling boy I tell ya. And, damn, Amber Rose and Blac Chyna looked, good ass fuck that night.
After Memphis, I keep it downsouth, and made a stop in H-town. I already had over 50 chains, 10 watches, 100 Cartier glasses but I was at a chapter in my life where I wanted more. So the first place I went was to shop at my homegirl Jeni Deng jewelry shop. I already pre-ordered the items in weeks advance and she hooked a nigga up. I got a grille made for a mill-ticket. It had on-set all-white diamonds dancing in that bitch. None of that fruity shit. It looked like a ice dam crashed in my mouth. But I didn't stop there. With the help of Jeni I drew up my own watch and got it customized just for for me. I said fuck a platinum Vacheron Constantin and I had my own shit made out of rhodium and titanium. I had the whole band blown out like a bust-sto pussy. I topped the watch off with a actual Pillsbury Doughboy as the bezel. The gigantism on that thing was something out of a stars. The watch didn't even tell time. It had a compass. The longitude and latitude was in encrusted in white diamonds also. I told ya that fruity shit played out. Only all-white. I didn't come nomore near my mans Floyd Mayweather 154 price-tag but I did spend a bankroll. If I tell you the exact amount I might have to kill you. Jeni greased-up my yays up and gave them boys a face-lift. She tossed in a few extra rings and thangs and I headed to the next town.
Houston ended and Detroit began. And, you know I did it stupid big in my town. Detroit was near and dear to my heart so I didn't feel the need to stunt. Hold on let me take that back. I wanted to stunt but just not on my own city per say. I wanted to give back and stunt so I founded an unique way to do both. I rented a helicopter for five days. And for five days straight, I got up bright and early, while the 9-to-fiver were going to work, dropping they kids off, I made it rain beaucoup money. Is you hearing me?Money was falling from the sky for five days straight. And I made sure I touched every hood. P. A 2 Gratiot. North-end 2 Southwest. 7-mile 2 Van Dyke. Chedda Ave 2 Telegraph. You get the point!!
I rode my tour bus to L. A from Detroit. I sat front-row at the Lakers game and watched King James score his first basket as a Laker. He put like forty in them boys head with ease. I loved The City Of Angels and all it had to offer but I can't lie I only went there, for a half-of-day, to see my mans Lebron. I was a huge fan!
I put up the tour bus up and boarded a 16-passenger private jet. The jet was so big it had a pool and a glow-in-the-dark swing in the aisle-way. Before leaving L. A. I flew in some of the baddest stripper bitches from all across the world. I had a flock of fine-ass exotic dancers to fill up every empty seat. I told them hoes to buckle up because we was about to go on the ride of our lifes. We took trips to Cancun, Mexico, and even Greece. I fucked every last one of them bitches. Raw dog too. I said fuck it. I might as well go out with a bang. I might as well go out like my nigga Eazy E. I snorted so much powder and popped some many pills that my dick stopped working for a whole two days. My shit came back alive and I was back at it like a crack addict.
While my dick was out of service I still got it in. I was licking pussy and eating ass like groceries. And I got my R. Kelly on for the first time. A bad ass Argentina bitch requested I piss on her face and in her mouth. Hell. . . You must be crazy to think I wasn't gone take her up on her offer. I peed in the bitch pussy too. Them foreign bitches freaker than ever. After I gave that Argentina bitch a golden shower shit got weird. I fucked around and caught another little foreign bitch from Brazil with a turkey baster in her clutch purse. Matter of fact it was two turkey basters. This bitch was trying to catch my sperm by any means. Earlier that day we went to the supermarket. I was wondering why that bitch paid for her shit at aisle by herself. And the bitch ain't want nobody looking in her grocery bag. I. ain't say shit went I first saw the turkey baster in her belongings. I played it cool the whole time we were in Greece. I waited all the way until we got on the jet to head back to the states to get her ass back. I paid the pilot a couple grand to lower the jet when we got over a vast of land. I tricked the stupid bitch to put on a jacket saying it was cold on the jet. The jacket was a jacket alright. It was a parachute-jacket and her ass was about to need it. With the help of three other girls we sent her ass flying out the jet like a paratrooper. The bitch betta be glad I didn't kill her ass.
I was going crazy and my days were dwindling at the same time. When I got back to States I had 5 days and a wake up left to turn myself in. I parked the tour bus with plans to hop in a Ferrari I had stashed away in 305. This was no regular spider you could buy off the streets though. It was a Spider I customized for a R&B cat from Chicago back when I had the dealership up and running like a well-oiled machine. The R&B cat put down a cool down payment, but, from my understanding, he couldn't pay the rest of the tab because he caught a serious case. Free __________ out the chain gang.
~TWO-TEN ON DA DASH~
Flight 305 to Miami landed and I slid down Key Biscayne, Little Havana, I-95, Liberty City and Ocean Drive in my Ferrari. I was acting a fool bumping Yo Gotti. I had the base thumping just enough for the highs to live by itself. And the toy turned more heads then a big jungle booty flouncing up and down on Southbeach. The Rarri paint was glittering in this purple-redish color. The rims were custom-made spinning Davins. The inches were custom-made. They were 33's. It was the biggest rim that could sit up under that frame. The Reggie Millers had that bitch looking so cocky and stocky. It looked cold and deformed at the same time. The Rarri had TV's everywhere in the car too. TVs in the emblems. TV's in the rims. TV's in the grille. Hell I even had TV's stitched in the steering wheel.
While I was Miami I hit Club Liv and had a ball with Supreme El Bey, World Wide Wes, some ball players, actors, and of course retired Doughboys who got rich off the streets, got fat, and moved to Miami. You know the trip wouldn't been right if I didn't trick me some money off. I took the coldest strippers under my arm and told her she was gone be with me for two days. I'm a handsome cat with bread so she was down with a smile. We went shopping. We hit the town and got our club on. We flexed with top-gone in the Rarri. And we to got tripping on Instagram. You know the Instagram pictures led to snapchat videos and the snapchat videos led to POV's on pornhub. She wanted to shot a whole video and I said fuck it.
After the porn video went viral we got so many offers from the porn industry to shoot a real one. The stripper was down but I told her it was not that type of party. Our two days turned into four and I only had two days left to turn myself in. The last night I kicked it with her I flew to Florida and we ended up in Disney land. Me and the stripper had so much fun and we took so many pictures. We even got them shits developed before we left. I told you I was gone have alot pictures for my celly to see. She got to posting all that shit all over social media. I guess it caught the attention of the alphabet boys because they two-way-paged me telling me to slow down. They really was just reminding me that I had two days left as a free me.
I had a ball at Disney land with the bad little stripper. She had real blue eyes, long natural hair, with a phat ass. Need I say more. Before we departed she begged me to take her with me because she was looking for a better life and wanted me to wife her up. I had to let her down and tell her it was not that type of party again. Little did she know I had less than 48 hours to be a jail bird. I had a good time with her but I could not take her with me if I wanted too. And to be complete forward and honest I went to Florida to relive a moment I shared with Cupid being it was the last destination we had fun at in the States. I was bugging without Cupid and I missed her ass so much. This whole time I had high hopes that she would pop up and a least see me off to the feds. The streets was talking and everybody and they momma knew I was going in!I thought going to Florida would help me heal a little before I went in. But that hurted more once I got there. I played it off good like it didn't by having somewhat of a good time. But deep down seeing families walk around in they beachwear having fun killed me inside. It killed me bad because I wanted that life with Cupid. My actions contradicted that, but, believe it or not, I really really did.
My wife Cupid was everything a nigga coulda ask for. She was so fine and loyal and I woulda gave her my kids with no problem. She always talked about having kids with me too. She wanted me to prove myself though because the last nigga she fucked with did her wrong. When she was 14 of age, her ex-boyfriend promised her things and she believed him. She gave him her virginity and she got pregnant shortly after.
Thereafter, he broke all his promises and things changed in the nigga. Her ex would start verbal fights and they soon became physical fights. She told me the lame ass nigga use to always go for her stomach when he got to beating on her. It was obvious he was trying to kill the kid. Or a least forge a miscarriage. But that's one of the same. The obvious became clearer when he dipped out on her while she was 6-months pregnant. Cupid was out in Flint where her moms had left her to be with a unstable great-aunt. And her mother was out in the Det shooting and smoking up work. Her great-aunt was an old lady on her last leg so Cupid had nobody to turn too.
As a middle-school-drop-out, with no real warm safe sheltered place, and, with her back against the wall, literally, Cupid, was forced to hustle up abortion money by having sex. And that's how she became introduced to the life of turning tricks. Cupid was no gold digger or tramp. She was forced in that lifestyle. And guess who was her ex?If you guessed Pizza then you right!!! EVERYBODY HAS A STORY. WE ALL GHETTO B.
Seeing them families at Disney Land was like having an out of body experience. The body of the out of body experience was I understood because I knew exactly what was going on. I understood that I had a once-in-a-lifetime girl and fucked it all up for sex, murder, and drugs. And I couldn't blame my wife Cupid because I did her wrong. I was suppose to be her husband, but, instead I was disloyal. And most of all, it was very alarming, that I didn't go harder to find Cupid.
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It took every bit of energy out of me to locate Cupid whereabouts. It wasn't exactly her home address but it was the closest thing to it. I learned she owned a building in Surprise, Arizona by simply cross-referencing her name on a Google search with zip recruiter. I caught a plane there and was caught with an a real surprise. The building was in Cupid name but it really was April establishment. April taught pole dancing classes out of the brick and mortar.
I walked in and saw an old friend. We caught eyes and April stared through a mirror. I remember it like yesterday how she traced her eyes around the wraparound mirrors until we actually looked eye-to-eye. I remember her eye shadow more than anything. Probably because of the bright color. Sweaty woman danced on the poles in unison and there was some type of production going on. April was shooting a workout video telling by the toned woman in athletisure gear. Off bat, she told the camera crew and the dancers that it was a wrap for today and send them about they way. When the automatic doors closed she locked them from the inside. She closed the blinds on a couple windows but the rest were 100% tinted from the outside in. We both just stared at eachother. We hadn't seen each other in so many years and neither one seem ready to talk. But I was one step closer to finding out Cupid whereabouts. And my time was running out"So this how you whipped yoself back in shape?You looking good gal!" "Pole-class"April only said two words and I knew it was because she wanted me to speak more. Her eyes looked like they trying to read my mind and her body language, tone and especially her facial expressions spoke volumes. April gave me the side-eye with the resting bitch face. She popped her hip out and sighed heavily so I said"Look April. I'm here to talk to yo girl Cupid. I fucked up real bad with her and I'm just trying to right my wrongs. Cupid deserve a big fat apology if not a million big fat apologies. I can't turn back the hands of time but I can wrong my wrongs. You know where she is?"I asked with the hopes April would tell me where Cupid was. Them was some big ass hopes but what's a man without hope. My hopes was shattered when April just went mute. Her resting bitch face turned more stoic and she was quiet ass a church mouse. "April I fucked up. I know Cupid told you eveything about the one-night-stand-hoes. Paying bitches rent and telling them I love them. You want me to keep going?How low could I go?I fucked up with yo homegirl"I came clean hoping she would speak out. She didn't so I just snapped. "DAMNN APRIL GIVE ME A BREAK. YES I USE TO PUT MY HANDS ON CUPID AND CHEATED WITH NOBODY-ASS HOES. I'M NOT PROUD OF IT AND I CAN'T DENY IT. I LEFT HER HIGH AND DRY WITH MY DISLOYALTY. YES I GAVE HER STD'S AND BLAME IT ON HER. I SMOTHERED HER. I WAS A BAD PERSON. THE GIFTS DON'T MAKE UP FOR NONE OF SHIT I DUN. I GOT LITERALLY 9 HOURS. . . NINE. . . NOT NINETEEN. NINE. REALLY SEVEN HOURS BECAUSE I HAVE TO CAUGHT THIS FLIGHT. PLEASE TELL ME WHERE CUPID AT APRIL. DO THIS FOR ME. YOU KNOW ME AND CUPID WAS A DYNAMIC DUO. DO THIS SOLID FOR US!I said my last pleads with tears in my eyes. My pleads must've struck a nerve because April had tears in her eyes too. Thereafter, she walked me over to a corner in the dance-like studio and we sat on the ceramic tile. April didn't waste no time to dive in. She gave me the whole spiel about how Cupid was now going to school for culinary arts. It made totally sense because Cupid sho' knew how to throw down the kitchen. April said Cupid had plans of opening a chain of restaurants down the line but she had a backup plan with the business they owned together called "GET RIGHT". (45)
"GET RIGHT" was a fitness brand ran out of the brick and mortar building. April shocked the hell out me when she said they paid for the building with the birkin bags I bought her and Cupid. That explained the elegances of the slanted walls, exposed brick, LED skylights, ceiling-to-floor mirrors, bedazzled stripper poles, and glass staircases.
April said "GET RICH" and was inspired by my dealership 28GRAM$. I think she was just blowing my entrepreneurial head up. Yet and still, you know, she got a rich nigga grin out of me off that one. Then came the real talk from April. Off bat, she told me she was not telling me where Cupid was. She said I didn't deserve Cupid. I was crushed. I tried going the money route to convince April but she hoed me.
I don't know if she was just letting me off easy but she said Cupid still loved me. She brunt me up to speed that Cupid still wore her webbing ring and she didn't have a man. I founded that hard to believe but I had to take what she gave me. On the real it probably was best April said what she said. I don't think my heart could had take hearing Cupid was remarried with a kid having a kid on the way. Hearing some shit like that would had crushed me some more.
I begged April more to just give up Cupid whereabouts or a least call her on the phone so I could hear her voice. But she stuck to the G-code and told she could not give her address out. I couldn't do nothing but respect that shit. I got up off the floor and headed for the door. April had the automatic doors locked from the inside so she followed behind me with the key. She stuck the key and asked"So how does it feel?"
"How does what feel?"
"To know you gone have to obey by rules now. I knew Cupid all my life. Y'all Leo's hate rules? Especially when they given?"April took the key out and tucked it in her spandex pants.
"U know what April I haven't thought about that. That's a good. question. I do know I elected, myself, to bow out. I couldn't turned snitch and got lesser years but that shit ain't in my blood. I couldn't even went the easy route and offed myself but that shit ain't in my blood neither. For these last couple weeks it had felt like I been walking on eggshells to honest. In the same token it seem like they woke up a sleeping giant. For once in my life I finally got control. Yea it might sound crazy but the day they told me I would be doing 18 years is the day I took control over my life. And I will never give these white folk my control again"My own words was like an reality. My words felt like I got gut punched by Roy Jones Jr. I cringed and fall to the floor. I just sat and thought long and hard about the day the federal agent woke me up out my sleep with that text. I thought up so many ways I could and should had handled that. I figured I shoulda never paid him and just killed him on the spot. I mapped out how I should had a least got the original tapes. Then again I thought the federal agent was godsend. I say he was godsend because he really was a blessing in disguise in so many ways. Just think if he never has send that text. I never would had been forced to think outside the box. Before then my mind never explored being more than just a another nigga from the hood. I went from selling raw out of boarded up crack spots to owning a dealership and touching millions. But none of that shit mattered now. I was 6-hours-and-thirteen-minutes away to checking myself into the clink.
I came up out my deep thoughts to a pleasant surprise. There April was bent over, twerking, with a stripper pole smushed in her cheeks. I must've been all the way in my thoughts because she had changed out her workout clothes and took her headgear off and everything. My eyes bucked out the socket to April sporting a tube top with some cootie cutter shorts. Her nipples was on bullet and her camel was busting through the seams. I thought I was daydreaming because the sight was a 100-%-Perfect.
April 30-inch weave draped down her back damn near to her calf muscles. The long weave was blonde too and she looked like the singer Bebe Rexha. At first glance a average eye might think she was a ratchet hoodrat that got her body done up. She had no tummy tuck butt lift fat transplant or no lip injections or no her boob-job done. April whipped her self back in shape and she was all that and a bag of chips.
~Damn this bitch ass so phat~My dick rocked up so hard to want I saw. I prefer ass over tits anyday so you know I was all in. And she was showing off on the pole like she knew a little something-something. April could tell I wanted her bad. She told me to put my tongue back in my mouth and she asked. "WANNA FUCK?"
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April asked "WANNA FUCK?" boldly poking out her top lip ring adding"You did my girl so cold a bitch might get pneumonia just standing by you. But I am gone give you some pussy to remember. Some bad and boujie pussy to remember before you go off. "April teased more tugging at the H on my belt. I clearly had no say in anything because I looked up and the next thing I know my pants was coming off. She said we had no time to waste and went straight into the downward facing dog. I pulled straight up on that U-haul truck and told her to back dat ass up like Juvie. April pussy juice got to dripping all on my tether bracklet before I could even stick it in. I started out slow then I began to drill her pussy like she demanded.
Once my stroke got rhythm April pussy got to squirting. She'll throw it back with an stretched yet arched back and I pulled out. And on call April would miraculously get to busting like a Uzi. You know I wasn't playing no roles with her after I seen her pussy doing that. I had hit April in the past but I never knew