Six A.M., I wake up. My dick hard, heavy, and achin’ wants release. A muhfucka’s mad horny. And straight jackin’ my shit ain’t gonna cut it. Not at this moment. I need to stick it in sumthin’. But I ain’t beat for a buncha noise. I get outta bed, go into my walk-in closet and come back out wit’ my “Baby Got Back Sex Doll” wit’ the wireless vibratin’ pussy and ass. I lube it up, then fuck it doggie-style grabbin’ its perky titties and thrustin’ this naked cock up in it. This is the only time I get to fuck raw. I close my eyes and imagine I’m gettin’ it in wit’ Halle Berry. I’m tearin’ that ass up a mile a minute, givin’ her all of me. Its pussy walls vibrate along the sides of my dick. I pull out, pour more lube up in it, then slide my dick back in, pumpin’ ’n gruntin’. “Aaah, shit.”
Yo, hol’ up, I know there’s no substitute for some real, live, pussy. But e’ery now and then, a muhfucka ain’t beat for all the extras. I don’t use this thing often, but when I do…man, listen, I get my two-hundred-and-sixty dollars outta it. And the good thing is, I ain’t gotta worry ’bout it stressin’ me the hell out. I can bust all up in it, clean it up, then lock it away ’til the next time. And that’s exactly what I do.
’Bout eight-thirty I head over to the gym, get in a two-hour workout, then come back home to shower. As I’m steppin’ into my boxers, my cell rings. The special ring tone alerts me that it’s Moms.
“So you gonna let days go by without calling?” she asks as soon as I answer.
“Nah, I been busy,” I lie.
“Mmmph,” she grunts. “Too busy to pick up a phone, I see.”
“Sumthin’ like that. But if you really want the truth, I figured I give you some space since you were spazzin’ out the last time I saw you.”
“Well, if you wanna live in your feelings, then you go right ahead. When you’re ready to get over yourself, you know I’ma still love you. And I’ma still curse you the hell out when need be.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Well, I’m calling you for two reasons. One, to let you know your father was admitted into the hospital last night.”
I flop down on my bed, shocked. “Hospital? What happened to him?” She tells me that he was havin’ chest pains. That his blood pressure is sky-high and they’re keeping him under observation for another night. That he’s at UMDNJ University Hospital in Newark. She gives me the visitin’ times. And for some strange reason, I’m feelin’ responsible for what happened to ’im. “Damn,” I say, rubbin’ my forehead, “was he havin’ a heart attack or sumthin’?”
“They’re not sure. Hopefully, they’ll know more once all the tests are in. In the meantime, that’s where he’s gonna be.”
“Cool. I’ll be up there later on tonight. Now, what was ya other reason for callin’?”
“I met Ramona.”
“Who?” I ask, frownin’. She repeats herself. “I heard you. But I’m surprised. Where’d you meet that broad at?”
“Over at your father’s. She showed up there looking for you, but when your father told her you weren’t there, she asked to come in to speak with him. He thought I might wanna have a chat with her as well.”
“About what?” I ask, feelin’ myself gettin’ agitated.
“She told us she’s carryin’ your baby.”
“Yeah, and? She’s the chick I was tellin’ you about.”
“I figured that. Well, she says she’s keeping it. She also said you told her you wanted nothing to do with her or the baby.”
This fuckin’ bitch! I clench my teeth. Feel the muscles in my jaw tighten. “She’s right. I don’t want shit to do wit’ her. ’Cause that’s. Not. My. Baby.”
“Are you sure?”
I suck my teeth, sighin’. “Ma, of course, I’m sure. That broad’s not pregnant by me. She’s delusional.”
“She also said you’ve put your hands on her, too. Is that true?”
“Say, what?!? What the fuck! I’ve never touched that fuckin’ lyin’-ass nut.”
“I hope not. But after your incident at your father’s, I’m not so sure.”
A muhfucka’s ’bout to black. “Ma, I gotta go. I’m not gettin’ into this wit’ you. I’ll talk to you later, aiight.”
“I’m not done talking.”
“Well, I am. I’ll see you at the hospital.” I disconnect the call before she can say sumthin’ else, then immediately hit Ramona’s ass up. She answers on the fifth ring. “Aye, yo, what the fuck are you doin’?”
“Ummm, whadaya mean?”
“Yo, what the fuck you mean, ‘whadaya mean’? Don’t fuckin’ play games wit’ me. You know what the fuck I’m talkin’ ’bout.”
“I knew I’d hear from you,” she states calmly. “How you been, baby?”
“What the fuck you doin’ goin’ over to my Pops’ spot?”
“Well I needed to get your attention some kind of way. And obviously, I have.”
“Yo, you fuckin’ crazy, for real, yo.”
She laughs. “Nigga, you can call me crazy all you want. The fact still remains that I’m pregnant. And it’s yours.”
“No, the fact is you’re a lyin’ nut-ass.”
“And I’m still pregnant.”
I can tell this ho is gonna be a muthafuckin’ thorn in my side. It’s moments like this I wish I had a buncha sisters I could call on when I needed them to rock a ho’s snotbox. “Okay, maybe you are, but for the hundredth time…It’s. NOT. Mine!
“It is yours.”
“Whatever, yo. Anytime we fucked I wrapped up.”
“Well, a few times I poked holes in the condoms.”
“Say what?”
“You heard me.”
I blow out a buncha aggravated air. “And how the fuck you do that?”
“Easy. I’d wait until you went into the bathroom, then I’d reach over and take the condoms you’d leave on the dresser, or I’d sneak and get the ones you had in your pants pocket and poke ’em up. Of course, I didn’t do it right away. I waited for the right time. Watched your moves every time you were with me before doin’ anything. And voilá! I’m with child. Your child. Now what would you like to name him or her?”
On some real shit, a muhfucka can’t believe what the fuck I’m hearin’. But, then again I can. This goes to show how muthafuckin’ desperate this bottom-of-the-barrel bitch really is. Yeah, she mighta poked holes in the condoms, but a muhfucka never nutted in her. I’d always pull out and bust down in her throat, or all over her face and titties. So unless she scooped the shit up offa her nipples and lips, then planted it up in her, she’s a muthafuckin’ lie. So the joke’s on her retarded ass. “I’m not namin’ it shit, ’cause it ain’t mine. You know it, and I know it. Now stop callin’ me. And stay the fuck away from my family.”
She laughs. “Or what, my baby daddy?”
I shake my head. “Yo, do us both a favor, and go jump ya dizzy-ass off a cliff.” I disconnect the call, sparkin’ a blunt. Fuckin’ wit’ her ass done gave me a splittin’-ass headache. This psycho bitch tryna drive a muhfucka to start lacin’ his shit, I think, blowin’ smoke up at the ceilin’.
By the time I get to the hospital to see Pops, it’s close to six-thirty. Visitin’ is over at like eight, I think. When I get to the visitor’s desk, I get my visitor’s pass, then make my way to the elevators. There’s mad heads e’erywhere up in this piece. I shake my head, hopin’ like hell I never end up in this bitch. Pops’ room is up on the tenth floor. I walk toward his wing, then look for his room number. A few nurses speak and smile. I speak back, but keep it movin’.
“Hey, old man,” I say, walkin’ into his room. He’s sittin’ up in his bed readin’ the Star-Ledger newspaper. There’s a New York Times on the side of him. “You mean to tell me you didn’t have anything better to do than get ya’self put in the hospital.” I give him a pound, then a kiss on the forehead. Pops and I have always been close; not like I am wit’ Moms, but still our bond is tight. On some real shit, they’re all I got. If sumthin’ happens to either one of ’em, I’ma be fucked up. Seein’ him up in this piece gotta muhfucka feelin’ some kinda way. I really fucked up.
He smiles; seems happy to see me. “I needed a break, what can I say. Glad you made it up to see me. But you coulda waited until I got home. They claim I’m being released in the morning.”
I take a seat in the chair next to the bed. “Oh, word? So e’erything’s aiight wit’ you, man?”
“So they say. They ran a buncha stress tests. My pressure’s high and they tell me my sugar’s up. But other than that, they say I’m okay.” I feel relieved. And fucked up for how things went down at his crib wit’ Akina. I decide to apologize, again. Tell ’em I was really outta pocket for bringin’ that shit up in his space like that. “Look, son, that’s water under the bridge. It was bound to happen, sooner or later. Unfortunately, I had to walk in on it. I tried to warn you, but ya ass is too damn hard-headed…”
“Just like you,” Moms says, walkin’ into the room. I get up and give her a hug and kiss. “He’s you, all over again.”
Pops chuckles. “Woman, I wasn’t that bad.”
She grunts, shakin’ her head. She hangs her coat up in Pops’ closet. They go back ’n forth ’bout it. I decide to stay outta their lil’ debate. Ya’ll already know how I feel ’bout it. And I’ma keep sayin’ it ’til I’m blue in the face: “I ain’t nuthin’ like him.” I take the other seat ’cross the room. Let Moms sit next to Pops.
“Well, it shouldna never went down like that,” Pops says. “I hope you learned ya lesson.”
Yeah, I learned a lesson, aiight. I learned to only fuck wit’ outta-state hoes from now on. I decide to keep that shit to myself. “I had no business bringin’ that drama up in ya spot, Pops.”
“You got that right,” Moms adds. “And you shoulda never put your hands on that girl.”
“And you right,” I agree, sighin’. “But she threw her hands up, first. Then she bit me. So she got what she got. I don’t feel good ’bout it, but it is what it is.”
“Still doesn’t make what you did right. You’re lucky she hasn’t filed complaints on you.”
“Ma, listen. The only thing I regret is that it happened up in Pops’ crib. Other than that, had she kept her hands to herself, I wouldna lumped her up.”
Moms opens her mouth to say sumthin’ else, but Pops reaches over and squeezes her arm. She pulls in her bottom lip. Lets it go, for now. “Tell us about this Ramona gal,” Pops says, changin’ the subject. “Your mother told you she stopped by the house looking for you, right?”
“Yeah, she told me earlier today. There’s really nuthin’ to tell. We kicked it for a minute. I sexed her down. She was too clingy. I dismissed her. That’s it. And now she’s claimin’ to be pregnant. But it’s not mine. Then I learn today that that desperate broad was punchin’ holes in the condoms.” Pops shakes his head. Moms stares at me. “I’m tellin’ ya’ll she’s a real nutcase.”
“And you did nothing to create this mess?” Moms asks, shiftin’ in her seat. I can tell she’s ready to get it started. It’s probably givin’ her flashbacks of that shit wit’ Pops, too.
Yeah, I stuck my dick in the wrong bitch! “The only thing I did was cut off her cum supply. I didn’t make her any promises. And I warned her over and over again to not get caught up in me. But she did. And that’s on her.”
“Son,” Pops says, “I’m not tryna tell you what to do, but you need to slow down. Or you’re gonna end up with a lot more than just a baby on your hands.”
“Well, let’s hope it’s not his,” Moms states.
“It’s not,” I tell ’em both, gettin’ up. I’ve had enough of this wit’ them. I know if I stay any longer, it’s gonna turn into a lecture hall. I glance at my watch. I’ve been here thirty minutes already. “Listen, I gotta get goin’.” I walk over and give Moms a kiss on the cheek, then give Pops a pound and a hug. “Take care of ya’self, old man. I’ll hit you up sometime tomorrow to check in on ya.”
“Aiight, talk to you then.”
“Come by for dinner tomorrow night,” Moms says.
“I can’t,” I tell her, grinnin’. “I’ma be somewere laid up.”
She rolls her eyes. Pops chuckles. They both shake their heads, watchin’ me dip out the door.