I wish she would take her ass out somewhere. That’s what I’m thinkin’ lyin’ here in bed. Man, listen, five days of bein’ confined and a muhfucka’s startin’ to get antsy. Cherry has been up underneath me, bouncin’ up and down on this dick practically e’ery damn three hours. Don’t get me wrong; keepin’ this cock coated is all good. But, damn…can a nigga get out and breathe a lil’, feel me? I know I told her I was gonna be all hers while I’m out here, but gotdamn! I need a fuckin’ break from her ass. Wakin’ up to the same broad for more than three days is not the norm for me, and I’m already startin’ to look at her ass some kinda way; ’specially after seein’ her droolin’ in her sleep. I gotta keep remindin’ myself that she’s cool peeps, and that the paper I’ma walk up outta here wit’ will be worth all the extras I’m puttin’ up wit’. See, if I had me a bag of Get-Right, I could roll a fat-ass blunt, take it to the head, then zone the fuck out. Then a muhfucka could handle her bein’ all up under me. She musta read my mind ’cause when she steps outta the bathroom dressed in a badass, cream-colored business suit and a pair of brown Gucci heels, I know it’s ’bout to be on and poppin’ today.
“Good morning, baby,” she says, standin’ in front of the full-length mirror, puttin’ in her five-carat diamond studs. She looks at me through the mirror. “I hate to leave you all by yourself, but I have to go out to Santa Monica to show some houses this mornin’, then I have a lunch meeting in Malibu this afternoon. I tried to get out of it, but—”
I sit up in bed, tryna keep from smilin’. But inside I’m screamin’, “Muthafuckin’ YES!” “Oh, it’s all good, babe,” I say, cuttin’ her off. “Get that paper. I understand.”
“I feel bad, though.” I get outta bed, walk up behind her, then kiss her on top of her weave-covered head, lettin’ her know there’s no need to feel any kinda way ’bout it. When she tells me she’s gonna leave me the keys to her convertible Jag, I press my bare dick up in her back. Decide to fuck her down real good, then send her on her merry way wit’ a smile on her face. I grind into her. “Unh-uh, don’t,” she says, tryna step outta my embrace, “start tryna get the kitty all cranked up. I don’t have time. I’m gonna have to fight traffic as it is, or I’ll end up being late. So you’re gonna have to wait until I get back.”
I grab her by the waist and pull her into me. At first she tries to resist. But I am persistent, so she doesn’t put up much of a fight for too long. “C’mon, baby, let me get a lil’ dose of that sweet ’n sticky. Five minutes, boo.” She rolls her eyes, knowin’ I’m lyin’ outta my black ass ’bout nuttin’ that quick. I grin, strokin’ my dick. She looks down at it as it starts to thicken. She licks her lips. I already know she gets wet just thinkin’ ’bout this dick up in her, so seein’ it got her juices bubblin’. “What you gonna do, baby? You gonna let this dick wait for you? Or are you gonna milk this nut up outta it real quick?”
She glimpses at her watch. “Damn you,” she says, pullin’ out her BlackBerry. She makes a call, tells whoever answered to push her first appointment back ’cause she’s gonna be an hour late. She disconnects, unbuttonin’ her jacket.
I stop her. “I got this,” I say, grabbin’ her by the hand. She sits down at the foot of the bed. I remove her jacket, then her blouse. I remove her bra and unleash her beautiful titties. She stands up, allows me to unfasten her skirt. It drops ’round her ankles and she steps outta it. I tell her to sit back down. Then kneel down in front of her, slip off her shoes, and caress the bottom of her feet. Damn, she got some pretty-ass feet, I think, kissin’ the balls of her feet, lickin’ them, then slippin’ her left big toe into my mouth. I slowly suck on it before pullin’ two more of her toes into my mouth. I slip my tongue in between her toes, then lick the bottom of her feet. She tosses her head back, and moans. I slide my hand up the inner part of her thigh, reach for her wet pussy, then slip two fingers in.
“Oh, yes, baby. See how wet you got my pussy?”
“Yeah, you ready for some dick, ain’t you?”
“Mmmm…oh, yes…”
I pull my fingers outta her sticky snatch. Tell her to lie on her stomach. I lick my lips. I run into the bathroom, then come back out wit’ a bottle of baby oil. When I pour it onto her back, she flinches, then relaxes when I slowly start massagin’ her neck and shoulders and back, then her juicy ass. I’m kneadin’ the kinks outta her body so good that I got her purrin’.
She whispers, “Aaaaah, this feels so good, baby.” My hands slide down to her calves, then back up to her thighs, lightly brushin’ her pussy. She spreads her legs, hikes her ass up in the air.
“Yeah, you want daddy to long stroke this wet pussy, don’t you.” She moans. I run my hand along the back slit of her hole, take two fingers and press on its opening, then slide them into her.
“Mmmm-hmmm…” She bucks her hips. “Stop teasing me. And fuck me.” I eat her from the back, then reach for a condom, slidin’ it on. I plunge deep into her. She gasps. “Ohhh, shiiiiit…” Her pussy clenches my dick, milks it. My shaft strokes her clit as I lift up on my arms and pump in and outta her. I reach in front of her and grab her titties and start squeezin’ on ’em. I dick her down slow ’n deep at first, then pick up the pace and start feedin’ her with long, fast strokes. Pullin’ all the way out, then slammin’ it back into her. Ten minutes later, I pull out, flip her over onto her back, then slide back into her. Her eyes roll up in the back of her head. The bed starts to rock. She clutches the sheets. Sweat rolls down my face, then drips onto her chest. Two minutes later, she is growlin’ and howlin’ and creamin’ all over my dick. I snatch the condom off and start jerkin’ my shit off in rapid strokes. She plays wit’ her clit as she watches me.
Five minutes later, my body starts to jerk. I moan, splash out a hot nut, then flop over on my back, tryna catch my breath. Cherry jumps outta bed, and hops in the shower. Fifteen minutes later, she is dressed and racin’ out the door. I glance over at the clock; 8:53 A.M. It’s almost noon back home. Let me call this ho, I think, gettin’ outta bed. I pull my cell outta my pants pocket, then dial Vita’s number. She doesn’t pick up. I call back. Still no answer. I know this midget bitch sees my number. She’s probably still swoll. This time, I leave a message:
“Damn, baby…I’m sorry for not makin’ it out there. I had a family emergency and had to rush outta town…” I pause, then continue. “My grandmother passed away.” Yo, hol’ up…don’t look at me like that. I’m not lyin’. Why the fuck would I say some shit like that if it wasn’t true? She did pass away. Ten years ago. So technically, it ain’t a lie, feel me? “We knew she was sick, but we thought she’d still be here for at least the holidays. I’m sure you’re feelin’ some kinda way ’bout me not hittin’ you up. But, this got us all fucked up. I really wanted to see you, and I feel bad for not makin’ it down there. But this shit right here got me all fucked. The wake is today, and the funeral is tomorrow. I probably won’t be home until next week sometime. I’ma hit you wit’ some paper to pay for that ticket, aiight? Hit me up when you get this. Later.”
I decide to hit Kanika up. She picks up, soundin’ like I woke her. The thought of bein’ up in the sheets wit’ her stretches my dick. I squeeze it. We talk for ’bout fifteen minutes, makin’ plans to meet up ’round noon. I only have a small window of opportunity to make shit pop, so I let her know to be ready and not have me waitin’. I know I’m gonna haveta come up off of some paper today, so I’m glad Cherry left me eight bills up on the dresser. I toss my phone beside me on the bed, then roll over on my side and eventually doze off to sleep.
Twelve o’clock, I scoop up Kanika in front of her people’s spot. The minute she gets in and buckles up, I speed off. It’s sunny and clear skies. I let the top down and the wind is blowin’ her hair all over the place, but she doesn’t seem to give a fuck. I wanna reach over and run my hand through it, sumthin’ I can’t do wit’ Cherry’s weave-wearin’ ass. I can’t front, I was impressed when she came out as soon as I pulled up. I suggested she dress comfortable, and not wear heels. But she laughed, sayin’ heels were her life. However, bein’ the thoughtful cat that I am, I picked out a pair of sneakers for her. Aiight, aiight…I ain’t gonna front. I ransacked Cherry’s shoe closet and found a brand-new pair of white Gucci sneakers in the back of her closet that I brought wit’ me. I even found a Gucci shoppin’ bag to put ’em in. I just hope them shits fit. E’ery so often, I cut my eyes over at her. She has her head back on the headrest.
“So where are we headed?” she finally asks, liftin’ her Prada shades up and turning her head toward me. She’s lookin’ fly as fuck. I feel like pullin’ my dick out and lettin’ it hang in my lap as I drive to give her sumthin’ to look at while I’m flyin’ down the 405 freeway. On some real shit, I wanna pull over on the side of the road and fuck her bad as hell. But, I’ma keep shit in check. So far, she’s been actin’ like a classy chick, so I’ma continue to treat her as one. But, there’s a part of me that is hopin’ she ends up bein’ a bird, so I can pluck her tail feathers.
I smile, glancin’ over at her. “You’ve been kidnapped, beautiful lady. Do I need to blindfold you, too?” I ask, jokin’. She playfully hits me in the arm. I decide to drive down to Huntington Beach, which is ’bout forty miles south of L.A. It’s pretty much eight miles of beachfront wit’ a buncha shit to do, from hikin’ to kayakin’, from horseback ridin’ to skateboardin’ and surfin’. I’ve been there once ’bout three years ago, and kinda dug its vibe, so I decide to take the thirty-five-minute drive wit’ this beauty sittin’ next to me. I figure I can take her to Huntington Harbour—a part of Huntington Beach that’s made up of five man-made islands wit’ a buncha of channels and canals. Kinda makes you think you in Italy somewhere. That’s the vibe it gives you. We can take a gondola ride, take in the view, grab a bite to eat at one of the eateries, then jet back to L.A.
Right off of Pacific Highway, I pull into Peter’s Landing Marina, then park. “Aiight, pretty baby, we’re here,” I say, pullin’ the key outta the ignition. I slip my cell under the seat. Decide I’ma give her my undivided attention, so I won’t be needin’ it.
“How did you know this used to be one of my favorite places?” she asks, unfastenin’ her seatbelt. I tell her I know ’cause I’m psychic. She smiles. “Whatever. I wish you would have told me this is where you were takin’ me. I would have worn something else.”
In my head, I’m sayin’, “I don’t know why bitches don’t wanna listen. I told her ass to dress comfortably. But she wanna be on some cute shit, wearin’ muthafuckin’ heels.” I can tell her sexy ass is fuckin’ hard-headed. I pop open the trunk. “Don’t worry, baby, I got you.” I pull out the Gucci bag and hand it to her. “I got these for you.”
She peeks inside the bag, then looks up at me. “What’s this?”
“Open it up and find out.”
She pulls the box outta the bag, then opens it. “OMG, you bought these?” she asks, surprised. I nod. “That’s so sweet of you. But why?”
“Because I knew you were gonna need ’em,” I tell her, grinnin’, “so I scooped ’em up this mornin’ for you. Here, let me help you put ’em on.” I walk ’round the car and open the passenger-side door. She follows behind me, then sits in the car. I squat down in front of her, then remove her heels. Word is bond, my mouth starts to water the minute I see her pretty-ass toes. I wanna suck ’em, but a muhfucka keeps his cool. I slip the sneakers on her feet.
“Wow, and they fit. How’d you know my size?”
I flash a wide smile, winkin’ at her. “I told you I’m psychic, baby.”
“Oh, please,” she says, playfully wavin’ me on. “Try another lucky guess. But I’m impressed.”
“Yeah, aiight. Call it what you want, baby. Either way, I’m pretty good at sizin’ up a woman.”
“Is that so?” She stands up, glancin’ down at her feet. I can tell she’s pleased wit’ my selection—compliments of Cherry, of course. I take her shoes and place ’em in the trunk of the car.
“No doubt, baby.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask what else you’re good at.”
I grab her by the hand and lead her toward the dock. “Stick ’round, beautiful, and I’ma show you e’erything you need to know.” She smiles, shakin’ her head.
Two hours later, we’re at Habana Cabana—a Cuban spot— waitin’ for our waiter to come back wit’ our food. Kanika orders jumbo shrimp, and sliced lobster tail simmered in a Cuban red creole sauce. I order a mixed salad wit’ lettuce, tomatoe, avocado, cucumber and onions and the Polla a la Habana, grilled chicken breast cooked in a red sauce wit’ onions and peppers and a side order of plantains.
We’re both kinda sittin’ here in chill mode, sorta caught up in our own thoughts. I’m thinkin’ ’bout the hour gondola ride we had, and how she sat in front of me, laid back on my chest wit’ my arms wrapped ’round her as we went through the channels. Then dude—the Gondolier—pulled up under a bridge and started serenadin’ us in Italian. The whole vibe was sexy as hell. And on some real shit, I wanted to tongue her down, then fuck her right there on the spot wit’ dude watchin’.
She reaches over and lightly touches my hand, bringin’ my attention back to her. She smiles. “Everything okay?”
I return the smile, then hit her wit’: “Yeah, e’erything’s perfect. I was thinkin’ how runnin’ into you at Spago musta been fate. It’s definitely a sign.”
“Oh, yeah?” she asks, lookin’ me dead in the eyes while cuppin’ her hands underneath her chin. “A sign for what?”
“It’s top secret, baby,” I tell her, grinnin’. “Just know that right at this very moment, I’m enjoyin’ e’ery minute wit’ you.”
“Awwww…how sweet. I’m enjoying the time with you as well. I have to say, you’re definitely full of surprises. I had no idea you could be romantic.”
“I told you, there’s a lot ’bout me you don’t know. I can be anything I wanna be, or whatever it is you need me to be. My only purpose today was to put a smile on ya pretty face, baby.”
“And that you did,” she says, smilin’. Damn, I wanna lick and suck all over them pretty-ass lips. As fine as she is, though, she’s probably one of them pillow princesses. You know, one of them pretty bitches who thinks all she has to do is lay there and be cute and not put in any work; ’cause a muhfucka is just happy to have a chick like her in his bed. Like a muhfucka should be honored that she’s breakin’ him off some pussy. Fuck outta here! I hate them type of hoes, real talk. And those are the kinda broads I try to straight rip open for bein’ muthafuckin’, lazy-ass fucks. Nah, fuck that! She’s one of them undercover freaks. She tilts her head, runnin’ her hand through her hair. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
I place my forearms on the table and lean in. “You don’t really wanna know,” I tell her just as the waiter returns to the table wit’ our food. He places our plates in front of us, asks if he can get us anything else, then leaves when we tell ’em we’re good. She presses the issue, puttin’ a forkful of shrimp into her mouth. I smile, watchin’ her lick her lips and moan. “Damn, it’s good like that?”
“Mmm-hmm, it’s delicious. I love seafood. Now tell me what you were thinking when you were looking at me like that.”
“I was thinkin’ ’bout makin’ love to you. Wonderin’ how it would feel to be deep inside of you.”
She grins.
I smile. “So is that a yes-you-can grin, or a no-nigga-you-done-banged-ya-muthafuckin’-head grin?”
She laughs. “Neither. It’s an if-I-were-a-ho-I’d-probably-let-you-find-out-right-here-right-now grin. But since I’m not, I guess you’re gonna have to keep wondering…”
“Damn. I guess that’s too bad for me.”
She sticks her fork into another shrimp, then stops before puttin’ it into her mouth. “Looks that way—for now, anyway.”
I smile. “Oh, aiight. I like the sound of that ‘for now.’ That’s wassup.”
She bites into her shrimp, then moans again, smilin’.
I shake my head. “Yo, you fuckin’ wit’ me. You know that, right?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, laughin’. “I’m just enjoying my meal.”
“Yeah, aiight. Keep it up and you’re gonna end up gettin’ a whole lot more to enjoy.”
“Hmmm. Is that a threat or a promise?”
I grin, winkin’ at her. “You take it however you want, pretty baby.”
“I just might do that.”
We spend the rest of the time laughin’ and talkin’ and flirtin’ to the point where we both lose track of time. When I finally glance down at my watch, it’s almost five o’clock. Oh, shit! I pat my pockets for my cell, then remember I left it in the car. I gotta get the fuck up outta here. I bet Cherry’s been blowin’ my shit up. As much as I would like to spend the whole damn night wit’ Kanika’s sexy ass, I’m not about to fuck up my paper, feel me? She and I will haveta continue this vibe when I get back out to Atlanta. In the meantime, it’s time to rock ’n muthafuckin’ roll out. And I already know the freeway traffic is gonna be a bitch tryna get back into L.A.
I pay the bill, and I’m impressed when she says she’s got the tip. I smile. She gets mad props for that, word up. I can’t stand for a ho to get a paid meal, then sit with her arms wrapped tight ’round her muthafuckin’ pocketbook like she ain’t tryna come up offa no paper. Lucky for me, I don’t haveta deal wit’ that bullshit since you already know a muhfucka like me hardly ever comes outta his pocket to buy a bitch shit. Yo, hol’ up…So what if the money I spent today ain’t mine. It never is.
When Kanika says she has to use the bathroom, I tell her I’ma run out and get the car, so she doesn’t haveta take that walk back. She thinks it’s me bein’ sweet that I offer, and I don’t let her know any different. But, on some real shit, it’s me needin’ to check my phone messages wit’out her bein’ all up on my ear, if I need to make any calls.
I get to the car and immediately check my phone before pullin’ off. I have seven missed calls and five new messages. Cherry hit me up only once, which is surprisin’. The other calls are from Akina, Vita, Carla, and Maleeka. I listen to the messages. Cherry says she’s not gonna get in until after eight, which is a big relief for me. Now I don’t haveta feel rushed. Akina wants to know why I haven’t called her. Vita apologizes for goin’ off, says she’s sorry to hear ’bout my loss, and wants me to call her as soon as I can. Carla and Maleeka want dick, as usual. I delete all my messages, then hit Cherry up. When she doesn’t pick up, I leave a message: “Hey, baby. I got ya message. I took a ride down to Huntington Beach; should be back ’round seven. My dick’s been hard all day, so you already know what it is. I’m horny as fuck, so be ready to get that pussy beat up real good tonight.” Hell, I ain’t lyin’. Kanika’s sexy ass got my shit on rock. But since she ain’t passin’ off them drawers, Cherry’s gonna haveta make it pop for me.
Next I call Vita and leave a message as I’m pullin’ up in front of the restaurant. Kanika’s standin’ outside waitin’ wit’ a smile. She hops in. I wait for her to put on her seatbelt, then speed off toward the freeway.
“So when am I gonna see you again, baby?” I ask, glancin’ over at her.
“I don’t know,” she says, smirkin’. “I’ll need to check my calendar to see if I can fit you in.”
“Oh, it’s like that, hunh?”
“Yep.” She giggles. “You can’t think a meal and a boat ride is gonna make it easier for you to see me again. Oh, no, Mister. You’re gonna have to come harder than that.”
I laugh. “Baby, you ain’t said nuthin’ but a word. All you gotta say is when and where, and how hard you need it…I mean, me, to come. And you got it.”
She playfully swats at me. “You’re a mess. I guess I opened myself up for that one.”
“Yeah,” I chuckle, “you fell right into it. So you might as well open wider and say, ‘Aaaaaaah.’”
She sucks her teeth, laughin’ as she digs into her pocketbook and pulls out a pack of gum. She offers me a piece, but I’m good so I tell her, “No thanks.”
“Annnnnnyway, pervert…when’s the next time you’re gonna be in Atlanta?”
“I’m not sure. Why, you wanna see me?”
“Maybe,” she says, rollin’ a piece of Doublemint into her mouth, “maybe not.”
“Yeah, aiight. Don’t front. You know what it is.”
She laughs.
My cell vibrates and the screen lights up. I take a quick glance at it sittin’ up on the console, and see that it’s Vita callin’. It dings when she leaves a message, then starts buzzin’ again. She’s callin’ back.
“Do you need to get that?”
“Nope.”
“You sure?”
I take my right hand off the steerin’ wheel and reach over and grab her hand. “Yeah, I’m very sure. The only person I’m interested in talkin’ to at this moment is sittin’ right beside me.”
“Good answer,” she says, squeezin’ my hand.
“It’s the only answer, pretty baby,” I reply, pullin’ her hand up to my lips and gently kissin’ it. On some real shit, I wanna drag my tongue along the center of her palm, but I restrain myself. She’s been keepin’ it classy, so I’ma respect her space and keep it gentlemanly. She smiles, pulls her shades down over her eyes, then places her head back on the headrest, holdin’ my hand in hers the rest of the ride. I turn on the radio and tune into Power 106, L.A.’s hip-hop and R&B station and maneuver my way through this fucked-up traffic.