An Excerpt from WIFEY
by Kiki Swinson

Tired of the Drama

It's 4:30 am in the morning and I've been pacing back and forth from my bed to my bedroom window which overlooks the driveway of my six hundred thousand dollar house, waiting for my husband Ricky to bring dat' ass home. Who cares about all the plucks (drug deals) he's got to make every other night. I keep telling him all money ain't good money! But he doesn't listen. Not to mention, I've got to deal with all his hoes on a daily basis. We've been married for seven years now, and since then I've had to spend a whole lot of nights alone in dis' gorgeous five-bedroom home he got for us two years ago. That's how his three children came into play. All of them are by different chicken-heads who live in the projects. But one of them got a Section Eight crib somewhere in D.C. and she's ghetto as hell. Just like the other two who live not to far from here.

Now, Ricky didn't have enough sense to go out and donate his sperm to women with some class. Every last one of them are high school dropouts, holding eigth grade educations and an ass full of drama. They figure since Ricky got a baby by dem' that he's gonna leave me to be with their nasty tails. Oh, but trust me! It won't happen! Not in dis' lifetime. Because all they can offer him is pussy. And da' last time I checked, pussy ain't in high demand these days like dem' hoes think. That's why I can say with much confidence -- that Ricky needs me. I keep his hotheaded ass straight. And not only that, I've got assets. I'm light skin and very pretty with a banging ass body! Niggas on the street say I remind them of the rapper Trina. They say it because both of us favor each other and we got small waists and big asses. And to compliment all that, I know how to play most of the games on the street, as well as the ins and outs of running the hair salon I opened a few years back. Not to mention, Ricky gave me the dough to make it happen. Now you see, he's good for something other than screwing other chicks behind my back. Which is why I'm always trying to find reasons not to leave his ass.

So, after pacing back and forth a few more times, Mr. Good Dick finally pulls his sedan into the driveway. So, I make my way on downstairs to greet his butt at the front door. "What cha' doing up?" he asked, as soon as he saw me standing in the foyer.

"Ricky, don't ask me no stupid ass questions!" I told him with much attitude.

Then I moved backwards two steps giving him enough room to shut the front door.

"What cha' upset for?" he responds with uncertainty.

I'm standing smack dead in front of my husband, who is by the way, very, very
handsome with a set of six packs out of this world, and I'm wearing one of my newest Victoria Secret lingerie pieces, looking extra sexy. And all he can do is stand here looking stupid, and ask me, "What I'm upset for?" I want so badly to smack the hell outta him. But I'm gonna remain a lady and continue to get him where it hurts, which is his pockets. This dummy has no clue whatsoever that I'm robbing his ass blind. Because everytime he puts some of his dough away in his stash, I'm right behind him trimming the fat around the edges.

"Kira, baby don't give me that look," he continued.

"You know I'm out on the grind every night for me and you."

"Ricky, I don't wanna hear your lies," I tell him and walk to the kitchen. And like I knew he would, he followed in my footsteps.

"Baby!" he started pleading. "Look what I got cha'!"

I knew it. He's always pulling something out of his hat when I'm about to
put his ass on the hot seat. He knows I'm a sucker for gifts.

"Whatever you got for me, you can take your ass right back out in the streets, find all your babies' mamas, play spin the bottle and whoever the fuck wins, just give it to them." I told him fronting like I wasn't interested.

"Shit, dem' hoes wouldn't ever be able to get me to cop a bracelet like this for
them!" Ricky tells me.

"They weren't hoes when you were screwing 'em."

"Look Kira, I didn't come home to argue wit' you. All I wanna do right now is
see how this joint looks on your wrist."

Curious as to how iced out this bracelet was, I turn around with a grit on my
face from hell. "You look so sexy when you're mad," he tells me.

Hearing him tell me how sexy I looked made me want to smile real bad, but I couldn't put my guard down. I had to show this clown I wasn't playing with his ass and truly tired of his bullshit. All his baby mama drama, the other hoes he's seeing and the many trips he takes out of town acting like he's taking care of business. Shit, I ain't stupid! I know all them trips he takes aren't solely for business. But it's all lovely.

While he thinks he's playing me, I'm straight playing his ass too.

"Where you get this from?" I asked him, continuing to front like I wasn't at all
excited about this H-Series diamond bracelet by Chopard.

"Don't worry bout' that," he told me, as he began to fasten the hook on it. "You
like it?"

Trying to be modest, I told him yeah. And then I looked him straight in his eyes
with the saddest expression I could muster up. I immediately thought about how I lost my mother to a plane crash just hours before I graduated from high school. I tried talking her into taking an earlier flight from her vacation in Venezuela. But, she refused to leave her third husband out there alone, to guard him from walking off with one of those young and beautiful women roaming around the beaches. So, once again she allowed her obsession for wealth to dictate her way of life. And I hate to admit it, but over the years, I had become a spitting image of her. I wanted nothing to do with a man who couldn't give me all the fine things in life. And since my mother had not been married to her third husband long enough, I got stiffed when his will was read. And the only two choices I had was to either move in with my uncle and his family or my grandmother Clara, who, by the way, were my only living relatives. So, guess what? I chose neither. I did this because I just felt like I didn't belong there. I mean, come on. Who wants to live in a house that always smells like mothballs? Who wants to live with an uncle who forces you to be in church every Sunday? Plus, you had to abide by his rules. And he didn't care how old you were either. So, it had to be fate that Ricky came into my life. He got me my own apartment not even a week after we met. And the fact that he loved to spend his dough on me made it even sweeter. He tried really hard to make sure I got everything I needed. (And I let him.) Hell yeah! That's why most of the time when I'm upset I can make him feel really guilty about how he's been treating me lately.

"Why do you keep taking me through all these changes?" I asked him, as I forced myself to cry.

"What cha' talkin' 'bout Kira? What changes?" he wanted to know.

"The constant lies and drama!"

"Tell me what cha' talkin' 'bout Ma!"

"I'm talking about you coming in this house two, three, and four o'clock in the
morning every damn night, like you got it like that! I'm just plain sick of it!"

"Come off dat' baby," Ricky said to me, as he pulled me into his arms. "You
know those hours are the best time for me to work. I make mo' money and get less

"Who cares about all of that? I just want it to stop!"

"It will."

"But when? I mean, come on Ricky. You got plenty of dough put away. And
I've got some good consistent money coming in my salon every week. So, we ain't gon' need for nothing."

"Look, I'll tell you what? Let me finish the rest of my pack and make one last run down to Florida, then I'll take a long vacation."

"What cha' mean vacation?!" I asked him, raising my voice because I needed
some clarity.

"It means I'ma chill out for a while."

"What's a while?"

"Shit Kira! I don't know! Maybe six months. A year."

"You promise?" I asked, giving him my famous pout look.

"Yeah. I promise," he told me in a low whisper, as he began to kiss my
neck and tug on my ear lobe.

That instant my panties got wet. Ricky pulled me closer to him. He cuffed
both of my ass cheeks in hands, gripping em' hard while he ground his dick up against my kitty cat. I couldn't resist the feelings that were coming over me. So when he picked me up, I wrapped my legs around his waist; only leaving him enough room to slide his huge black dick inside my world of passion. I'm so glad I had on my crotch less panties because if I had had to wait another second for him to pull my thongs off, I probably would have exploded. "Hmmm, baby fuck me harder!" I begged him as I used the kitchen sink to help support my weight. His thrusts got harder and more intense.

"You like it when we fuss and make up, huh?" Ricky asked by whispering each word between kisses. But of course, I declined to answer him. Swelling his head up about how I like making love after we have an argument is not what I deem to be a solution to our problems. So, after we got our rocks off, he and I both decided to lay back in our king size bed until we both dozed off.

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