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“Are you ready?”

It starts!

Dealing with my iron-fisted Mama!

“Mama. Yes! I’ve been ready. For three years now.”

I wasn’t happy about Mama being here. I wasn’t.

She gave a phony smile, the same phony smile she gave when things didn’t turn out the way she had hoped.

She had control issues, the very same issues that kept us at each other’s necks like lions on bloody buffalos during the dry season. I really hope this special day didn’t turn into an episode of Animal Planet.

Mama said, “Engaged three years and its finally happening. Well, it’s long overdue.”

I said, “No. It’s happening when it’s
supposed to happen, Mama. I’m just a young woman born and raised in the county of Dade. Cutler Manor to be precise. I came a long way.”

Mama ignored me. She picked up the broom and started sweeping some trash off to the side of the room.

I watched her, keeping my mouth
closed. She was clad in a very expensive pink dress, damn near knocking my white wedding gown to hell; I paid out the ass to have it created from scratch.

I was talking about thought up from my brain to a storyboard sort to speak to the fabrics to the actual sewing of it, which was done by hand, one hundred man hours to be exact.

I paid for her dress, too. But she did the unthinkable: she went behind my back, after I made the final arrangements and had her dress
altered.

Where it was long and sexy she had it cut short and some-what skimpy. I oversaw every dress and every suit worn in my wedding.

I didn’t want anything taking the attention off me and my fiancé’s attire.

But Mama did it, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. Her hair damn near looked better than mine, her make up damn near
looked better than mine.

The way her breasts sat on her chest, squeezed in a bra two sizes too small
made mine look like mosquitoes bites.

Mama, she just had to try to rain on my parade. My fiancé and I have been together since the fourth grade at Pine-Villa Elementary.

We broke up here and there but we always found our way back to each other.

No matter where he got his rocks off, no matter what bitch he sported for
the moment he always built his stone castle with me.

No one compared to me. Now those very same hoes were eating my dust because now that my man and I were about to marry they couldn’t kiss my pussy from his lips any longer behind my back...

When they thought I didn’t know.

Come to think of it they kissed my ass, toes and feet, too.

Little did they know I got the last laugh and the man. And they were all here now, sitting out waiting for me to walk down the aisle in a dress that cost more than anything they had on, combined!

I couldn’t blame him for returning home to Mama, me of course. When you had flames dancing in your pussy and resin based on your titties, you’d come running back home, too.

And on the flip side, no matter what man was trying to pounce on my pussy, I never gave it up to anybody but the man I was about to marry.

Now sucking a Niggah’s dick was my shit.