Hand Me Downs

Perhaps it's possible to meet someone who will turn your life around for the better just by two sets of eyes meeting, a coinciding double take, where each person's feeling the other is "the one". Women pray for this man of their dreams, a fairy tale and knight in shining armor. Some even take these prayers that are thrown up to God without specifications about what type of man they're looking for, and then settle for the first man who comes their way; assuming it was God that sent him. They forget that the devil is active and working overtime as well and he's one mean muthah fuckah destined to have his due. Ritza prayed for a knight in shining armor for so long she was blinded by the glare she assumed came from his armor never noticing it was the glare from his mephitic and elusive sword. The man that came to set her free was cut from a cloth that would not free her from her old life, but instead, bind her captive in a new. Blaze's swag smoked screened his interior personality. His "lady's man" aura was nothing compared to what lied beneath. Women were pawns in the games he played. The "Pussy for Sale" game was lucrative and he was all about paper baggin'. He had his hands in anything that would lead to a profit; loan sharking, numbers running, and drug trafficking. But what he loved the most was pimpin'. It wasn't so much the money he made from his bitches but, the logic of power he had over them mentally. He could turn the most sophisticated and refined woman into a bitch with a price tag on her pussy simply with a flash of his unblemished smile, deep dimples and promises of love and adventure. Hmmm, and the weak, well, they were like putty in his hands. So women beware, Blaze will send the life you know up in flames and have you forever burning in his pit, he calls the good life from just a mind fuck, a subliminal orgasm. Be careful what you pray for and skittish of those who claim to be the answers your prayers.