Ice Spice loves cucking you

Ice has been stressing about her career lately, the pressure to stay relevant, to get features, to keep the buzz going. You’ve been supportive, understanding. Tonight she called you saying she needs to talk about something important. You’re sitting in her living room when she comes out in a short silk robe, clearly fresh from a shower. “So, I got offered a feature,” she starts, sitting across from you. “With that rapper you know I been trying to work with. The one with all the plaques.” She fidgets with the belt of her robe. “But like, he wants something in exchange. Not money.” She looks at you directly. “He wants me. Like, to fuck. Tonight. Says if I do, he’ll give me a verse and promote the song.” She lets that hang in the air. “I’m gonna do it,” she says, matter of fact. “This could change my whole career, babe. I can’t pass this up. You understand, right?” She stands up. “He’s coming over in like an hour. You can stay if you want. Or you can leave. But either way, this is happening.” Her tone is gentle but firm. “I need this for my career. It’s just sex. It don’t mean nothing.” She walks closer. “Don’t be mad at me, okay? This is business. You want me to succeed, right?” She touches your face. “Then you gotta let me do what I gotta do. Even if that means fucking him tonight. In our bed. While you’re here or not, that’s up to you.” Her phone buzzes. “He’s on his way. So what you gonna do, babe? You gonna support me? Or you gonna make this harder than it needs to be?”

You come home early from work to surprise Ice, but you’re the one who gets the surprise. As soon as you open the apartment door, you hear it, her moans coming from the bedroom. Not soft, not trying to hide. Loud. You walk down the hall and push the bedroom door open. Ice is on your bed, on her hands and knees, that thick ass in the air, orange wig bouncing as some dude you’ve never seen before hits it from behind. Hard. She looks up and sees you standing there. For a second, her eyes widen, genuine shock. But then something else crosses her face. Not guilt. More like… annoyance at being interrupted. “Babe, what are you doing home?” she asks, still in position, not even moving away from dude. “You said you had work till six.” The guy slows down but doesn’t stop, looking between you and Ice confused. “Yo, this your person?” he asks her. “Yeah, but like-” Ice starts, then gasps as he thrusts again. “Hold on, let me talk to them real quick.” She doesn’t get up. Doesn’t cover herself. Just looks at you from that position. “Look, I know this looks bad,” she says, slightly breathless. “But like, you been working so much lately and I got needs, you feel me? I wasn’t tryna disrespect you or whatever, it just happened.” She bites her lip as the guy keeps moving slowly. “You can leave if you want. Or like… you can stay. I don’t really care right now, deadass. I’m tryna finish what we started.”

You and Ice have been living together for a year. Today you’re moving out, she told you two weeks ago that “this isn’t working anymore” and you need to find your own place. It’s been brutal, but you’re almost done packing. You head to the bedroom to grab the last few things from the closet. The door is closed. You open it. Ice is on the bed, your shared bed that you’ve been sleeping on the couch to avoid, completely naked with someone you recognize. The guy she always said was “just a friend.” The one she told you not to worry about. They’re in the middle of it, and she doesn’t even look surprised to see you. “Oh, you’re still here,” she says, barely pausing. “I thought you’d be gone by now.” She continues riding him, her thick body moving, not a trace of shame on her face. “This is why I wanted you out, babe,” she explains casually, breathless. “So I could have him over whenever I want. He’s actually moving in next week, deadass. Into your spot.” The guy underneath her grins up at you, clearly enjoying this. “We been fucking the whole time we were together, by the way,” Ice Spice adds. “Like, the whole year. Every time I said I was at the studio late? I was with him. Every girls’ night? Him. That weekend I went to Miami without you? Yeah, he was there.” She moans, getting more into it. “You can finish packing, I don’t care. We’ll just be right here.” She looks at you with cold eyes. “Actually, do me a favor? Lock the door on your way out. And leave the key on the counter. You don’t live here anymore.” She turns her attention back to the guy, dismissing you completely, her moans getting louder as you stand there with your box of belongings. “Bye, babe. It was fun while it lasted.”

You gave Ice a key to your apartment months ago. Big mistake. You come home from the gym to find her car outside but also your best friend’s car. Weird, but maybe they’re just hanging out. You unlock the door and immediately hear it. Her voice. Moaning. Coming from your bedroom. You walk down the hall and push the door open. Ice is on top of your best friend, the guy you’ve known since high school, riding him in your bed. Her thick body bouncing, orange curls everywhere, hands on his chest. She sees you and doesn’t even slow down. “Oh shit, you’re back early,” she says, slightly out of breath. “Yo, this is awkward.” Your friend looks mortified, trying to stop, but Ice just pushes down harder on him. “Nah, don’t stop now,” she tells him, then looks at you. “Like, what you gonna do? You just gonna stand there?” She keeps riding him, maintaining eye contact with you. “Your boy here been texting me for weeks, you know that?” she says conversationally, like she’s not currently fucking him. “Telling me how he could treat me better than you. How he been wanting me since we met.” She moans, grinding down. “And you know what? He was right. He’s better than you, babe. Bigger too, word.” She laughs at your expression. “What, you thought I didn’t notice? You thought I was happy with what you got?” She leans down to kiss your friend. “I think I might start seeing him instead. Like, officially. You cool with that? Actually, I don’t really care if you’re cool with it. It’s happening.”

You’re at Ice’s album release party, proud partner in the VIP section while she works the room. She’s been drinking, dancing, having a good time. You lost track of her for maybe twenty minutes. Now you spot her across the club in a corner booth, sitting on some rapper’s lap. Her orange curls are wild, her body pressed against him, and his hands are all over her ass, squeezing, gripping. She’s laughing, whispering in his ear. She sees you coming. Instead of moving, she grinds down on dude’s lap deliberately, maintaining eye contact with you. When you reach the booth, she’s smirking. “Oh, there you are babe,” she says, like nothing’s wrong. “I was looking for you earlier. This is Jay, he’s a producer. We might work together.” Jay’s hands are still on her waist, possessive. She makes no move to get up. “You good? You look tight,” she observes, tilting her head. “What, you mad I’m networking? This is my party, I can talk to who I want.” She shifts in his lap again, and you can see Jay grin. “Actually, me and Jay were about to head to the bathroom real quick,” she says, her tone challenging. “To discuss some… business. You can wait here if you want. Or go get another drink. We won’t be long.” She stands up, smoothing down her tight dress that’s ridden up. “Don’t wait up though,” she adds with a laugh, grabbing Jay’s hand. “I’ll text you later, bet.”

Your phone buzzes with a FaceTime call from Ice at 1 AM. As soon as the call connects its clear its not her calling from the club or something. Instead, the camera is angled low, shaky, and you can see her orange hair spread across unfamiliar pillows. “Oh shit-” you hear her laugh, breathless. “Babe, my bad, I didn’t mean to call you.” But she doesn’t hang up. The camera shifts and you can see her face clearly now, flushed, makeup slightly smudged, that look she gets when she’s really into it. “Actually, you know what? You’re already on the phone.” She props the phone up on something, giving you a full view of her naked on a hotel bed. “Might as well watch.” Someone moves into frame, a tall guy you don’t recognize, clearly naked, clearly hard. “This is Marcus, he plays for the Knicks,” she says casually. “We met at the club tonight. He’s got like, a crazy dick on him, not gonna lie.” She pulls him closer, her hand wrapping around him. “You seeing this?” she asks, looking directly at the camera, at you. “This is what happens when you can’t make time for me, babe. Other people will.” She guides him between her thick thighs. “Watch how he fucks me. Maybe you’ll learn something, word.” She moans as he pushes in. “Oh fuck, yeah, just like that-” Her eyes stay on the camera, on you, even as she’s getting fucked. “You mad? You look mad. That’s crazy though, ‘cause you’re the one who’s been too busy for me lately.”

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