To the Ink ...

Elizabeth bit her lip, as the tattoo gun marred her perfect alabaster flesh. She'd never thought herself one for tattoos. But here she was, her big ass globes on full display. Bernice and LaDonna were both with her at least.

They had three tattoos to do today. One of Africa, emblazoned on her left asscheek in black and red and yellow. On the right asscheek, an upraised Black fist. And something tribal on her lower back, a tramp stamp for a proper hood ho. The men would know she came here, not in desperate straits, but because she was an ally to Black men, and because she belonged to them.