One in a Million

One In A Million

She said that she wanted me to hold her in my arms. She was digging my strong… My fly.

She whispered in my ear and told me that I was her kind of guy. By her gangsta … I was enticed, she lived my kind of life.

Fast pace!

I whispered in her ear “let’s chase a bag and love.”

She giggled, as if she was sincerely tickled.

She loved my business demeanor and the way that I toted my gun. Her name was Teena.

She always sported KB frames her red dreads were always wrapped in a bun. She pushed the BMW 745! She was live. Pistol toting fly- girl. Jlo, on the low. she was black and her complexion was cinnamon. She said “fuck the love… let’s chase the benjamins!”

I giggled because I too was sincerely tickled.

I loved her super model style and the way that she holstered the .40 cal., her lips, and the way that she swayed her hips. She whispered in my ear “I’m a fortune five hundred bitch… I’m super bad.”

I was on her and she was off me. I sexed her softly then I put it on her. Her back shots were real; her ass was soft and fat, and she stared in my eyes when she threw it back.

The cash flew in, and our bond grew deep. I took her around the world. Then I gave her the world.

Teena, red hot, she was a steamer. She knew how to wield the gun. Drop after drop, she blew off tops. Then we would split the bag. I always gave her a little more than half. Because she was my better half. She asked me to marry her. I said, “let’s marry the cash.” And she giggled, as if she was tickled.

She often bought me diamonds and Four Fives: Colt M1911. She blew my dice, and on the come out I struck a seven. She said, “you’re my lucky seven.”

She bought me the five- nine- nine Ferrari. She was five nine, a dime and she was mine, forever!

And I was G’d up forever!

Two seventeen on the dashboard… Jettin’ from the law down the Lincoln highway. She was always beside me. Sundress and KB shades. She was my shade when we were under enemy fire.
She was my constant desire. I loved it when her dreads were unwrapped and they swung, and how she did that thing with her tung when she sucked on me. Sometimes, she be frontin’ on me and I be wanting her more.

I told her that I loved her and that I was sure. She said, “let the bag be the thing that we love more.” And I giggled as if I was tickled.

Often and always, I showered her with diamonds from Harry Winston. Her Bentley, was the Tiffany hue, along with her furs, platinum coated, thirty two.

I was her passenger, and she drove. We piled up the cash in droves.


We made love on the road speeding. Our hearts accelerated. We were at the paper ducking haters. They kept me on my shit.
Gun busting!

We were lit. Just me and my bitch, Teena!

She bust the baby Nina out the sunroof of the BMW. I was her guy told me how much she loved the way my waves spun.

“I love how you make fire shoot out of your gun,” Teena said as she rubbed my head. “

And I love the way that you do what you do with your tongue.”

I sucked her in the Aston, bust her in the G- wagon. She said that she wanted to have my kids.

I started laughing, “let’s raise these coins up.” Then she giggled, as if she was tickled.

Our love was there, though, often we kept it hid behind Black mask, and sprees of heist, we cherished each other thus neither of us wanted to give up this gangsta’s life. So instead of “I love yous” we proclaimed our love by busting our gun.

Blaq and Teena!

I was pushing the ’69 Camaro down I-10, the top was dropped and Teena was counting the loot. The Law zeroed in. Teena unraveled her dreads and let them drop, in the wind, they swung.

Teena upped her gun, and it blew. And together we flew down the highway. Bullets popping, the radio was whispering a tune, “I did it my way.”

Chase on a Highway!

Teena, ran out of bullets, so she leaned over and took control of the wheel, while I upped my revolver and popped shots out of the wheel. The cylinder spun… .

No more shots in my gun!

I continued mashing the gas, holding Teena’s hand, we were fleeing from the law, empty gun in my lap. She stared into my eyes and I stared back. We raced off into the sunset, with the law behind us.
The End

Published by korymcclary1221

My name is Kory McClary, I am 34 years old. I am currently serving a lengthy sentence at the New Jersey State prison in Trenton, New Jersey. I am fighting for my freedom so that I may return to my family and loved ones. Yet, I know that it is a long, tough, and bitter battle to achieve that goal. But, with the grace of God Almighty, and for the sake of my family, I will fight on. I am using this blog as a medium to enhance my voice and to bring awareness to my unfair condition leading out of my unjust conviction. While spending almost all of my time in a cell, I chose to write so that I may voice the reality of my situation, because without awareness there can never be Justice...! To escape the harsh reality of prison, I use the pen to release my frustrations. I use the pen to manifest my imagination. And, most of all, I use the pen to Fight. I am fighting for my Life! Just by reading Kory McClary's Blog, you are giving my plight and my word's a voice. Thank you. Please, stay tuned...

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