Dirty Macking – The Lion and the Mouse Read Online Kenya Wright

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Dark, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
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We slowly walked down the long aisle.

Everyone wore their Sunday best.

The men donned nice suits with crisp white shirts and shiny black shoes. Some had freshly braided cornrows. Others boasted that just walked out of the barber shop cut.

The women had on brightly colored dresses with patterns that swirled and flowed. Plus, their hair was styled in a thousand different ways, from big afros to sleek bobs.

Boris darted his eyes everywhere with excitement.

Dude probably never been in a room with this many dark-skinned Black women.

I grinned.

Especially with these hips. His dick is probably bobbing all over the place.

The whole church jammed to the upbeat song.

Strolling forward, I bobbed my head a little unable to help myself.

I caught some of the lyrics. They were about Jesus and his love for everyone, and with the way the choir’s voices serenaded the air, I believed them.

How could I not when the lyrics were full of so much joy and hope?

The rhythm of the song drummed in my chest. It was a deep thumping that echoed the choir’s words. It was a feeling of belonging, of hope, of love.

Although there were empty spaces in the back pews, Rafael kept guiding us going forward. We had to maneuver around some of the people dancing in the aisles.

A few of them waved at Rafael and smiled.

White boy is known around here? Interesting.

Finally, Rafael led us all the way to the front row where a beautiful woman with a huge curly afro sat next to an older couple.

I checked out the older couple, wondering if one of them would lead us to the Voodoo woman. The older man had on a nice gray suit with a bald head. The older woman donned a pretty white dress. A huge hat sat on her head. Several ostrich feathers topping it.

I put my focus back on the younger woman with the big afro. The woman’s afro was a mass of curly, dark hair that framed her face and bounced a little as she swayed with the music and clapped. She might have been older than me, probably in her mid-thirties.

Alright now. This trip could be interesting.

Her skin was the color of dark chocolate. Her eyes were a deep brown. She had full lips that were moving with the words to the song. She wore a white dress that flowed around her curves.

Damn. I would come to this church to see her every Sunday if it meant sitting next to her.

The woman was absolutely stunning, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

Hey, there, Ms. Curly.

I planned to sit next to her, but Rafael went right to her and began clapping and rocking off beat.

I tried to pass Jean-Pierre. He blocked my way and gave me a stern look.

What?

I backed up and stayed close as he continued their way. Still, I glanced her way so transfixed by the beautiful woman with the curly afro.

Could she be the one for me? Perhaps, I probably need a godly woman.

I imagined us sweaty after sex and lying in the bed as she read me the Bible. She would flip a page and explain the testaments to me and I would smoke a joint.

That could work.

The choir sang out the word Jesus in unison over and over, and Rafael yelled it out too with them, fist punching the air. He kept getting in my view.

This damn idiot needs to sit down.

The choir sang out Jesus some more.

The Congregation yelled out yes after each Jesus and Rafael did a little dance and screamed with them.

Ms. Curly spotted him and shook her head.

But that didn’t stop Rafael from boldly clapping his hands, wiggling his hips, and stomping off beat toward her.

Is he for real?

The choir stopped singing and lowered into their seats.

The band continued to play, and Rafael yelled out, “Yes! Jesus! That is what I am talking about! Testify! Amen! Preach! Amen!”

Ms. Curly yanked his hands down and shushed him. That was the only thing that could get him to calm down.

Jean-Pierre waved at Ms. Curly and then stood by his cousin. I got next to Jean-Pierre. Boris remained on my side.

The band slowly faded out into silence.

However, that didn’t stop the people dancing in the aisle. They carried on for several more minutes screaming out, Jesus.

An older woman in a green dress rushed up to the front of the church and pranced around. “Yes, Lord! Yes, Lord! Yes!”

Her gray hair was pulled back into a tight bun and looked close to unraveling. “Lord! I hear you! I hear you talking to me right now!”

“Tell us what he is saying, Mrs. Marshal.” Rafael jumped up with her and clapped. “Tell us, Mrs. Marshal so we can hear his message.”

Ms. Curly gestured at him and kept her voice low. “Sit down, Rafael.”

“The Holy Spirit has my body!” Mrs. Marshal spun around in that green dress. “Yes, Lord! Use me, Lord!”


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