At ten a.m. the followin’ mornin’, I was sittin’ in my office lookin’ at the flick of my next target. He was a nice-lookin’ older cat with a full beard, a thick nose, and full lips. I read his stats: 48, 5’10”, 198 pounds, divorced. Hmm, I thought, tossin’ his photo on my desk. I wonder if I should fuck him or just suck his old-ass dick. I already knew if his ass had a bunch of extra skin flappin’ ’round his cock, I wouldn’t be suckin’ on shit.
I got up and walked to my master bathroom and turned on the shower, then went into one of my bedroom walk-ins and pulled down my yellow Tumi bag. I tossed some wears and cosmetics in the bag before goin’ back into the bathroom to shower. My flight to San Diego was at one-thirty, and I needed to get ready to make my way to the airport.
At four-forty their time, I landed at San Diego International Airport. After I got my bag, I headed toward the shuttle bus to pick up my rental—a burgundy Toyota Corolla. My destination was the Humphries Half Moon Inn & Suites on Shelter Island. My mark was conveniently stayin’ there for some type of week-long business conference and typically stayed in his rooms alone, so unless he was totally committed in a relationship, or was strictly suckin’ dick, enticin’ him with a dish of this deep pussy would be easy, just the way I liked it. On some crazy shit, I often wondered what I’d do if one of my targets proved to be a bit more challengin’ than I hoped for and refused a bitch some dick. Unfortunately, I’d have to go into plan B: straight sharp-shoot his ass on the spot, then peel rubber. Ugh, that’d be some real borin’ shit!
Ten minutes later, I was turnin’ onto Shelter Island Drive and slowly makin’ my way to the hotel. When I saw the entrance, I pulled into the packed parkin’ lot and strutted my way to the front desk. Keepin’ shit real, I was really diggin’ the hotel’s layout. All these big tropical trees and exotic flowers ’n shit had me thinkin’ I was in some kinda paradise or somethin’. The receptionist smiled as I walked through the slidin’ glass doors.
“Hello, welcome to Humphries Half Moon Inn and Suites.”
“Hi, I’d like to check in.”
“Sure, your name, please?” I smiled and gave her one of my aliases. For this trip, I was Natasha Simmons. I handed her my fake ID. The room, as with all the others, was already paid for through Cash. Don’t ask how, ’cause on some real shit, I’ve never asked, and I honestly didn’t give a shit how or what he did to make it happen; or where and how he got his connects. I was only ’bout the business of killin’, feel me? All that extra shit was of no concern to me.
“Oh, yes, Ms. Simmons,” she stated, clickin’ the keyboard with her thin fingas. “Here you are. We have you in one of our marina-view suites. I think you’ll find it to be lovely as it overlooks the marina and the tropical garden. And at night, you’ll be able to see downtown San Diego. Will you need more than one key?”
Bitch, save all the goddamn extras and just give me my fuckin’ room key. I forced a smile. “Sounds wonderful. Umm, no. One key will be fine.” I signed the printout.
“Here you go,” she said, handin’ me the key. “You’re in Marina Suite 105.” She pointed in the direction I should go. “It’s out this door to the left, then around the side on your left. You can go all the way around the building, or you can cut through the garden pathway. Oh, I almost forgot. We have a package here for you. Hold on. I’ll go get it.” She went into a back office, and reappeared a few seconds later with a medium-sized box.
“Thanks,” I said. It was already close to seven-thirty, and a bitch was starvin’, not to mention tired. I wasn’t plannin’ to slump my mark until tomorrow so I had some time to chill. In the meantime, I was gonna jump in the shower, then head to the mall and grab a bite to eat. “Oh, and can you tell me where your nearest mall is? Something with high-end fashion.”
Chick’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you want to go to the Fashion Valley Mall. It’s in Mission Valley off Friars Road. Here, let me write down the directions. It’ll take you about fifteen minutes to get there, but they have some fabulous stores.”
“Perfect,” I said, takin’ the directions from her.
Once I got to my suite, I tossed my bags onto the extra bed, then looked out on the triangular-shaped patio to enjoy the view. Since I was already pressed for time, I decided to head to the mall, shop a bit, then find somethin’ to eat. If the opportunity to meet my mark presented itself, I’d fuck him tonight, then again tomorrow before I shut his lights. I stepped back into the room, closin’ and lockin’ the patio door, then headed out the door.
By eight-fifteen, I was walkin’ through Bloomingdale’s on my way to the Louis Vuitton store in search of somethin’ hot. I wanted to slay them bitches back home with a cute bag or a slammin’ pair of heels. My cell started ringin’.
I reached into my chocolate Bottega Veneta and pulled it out. It was Chanel. “What’s good, tramp?” I said, forgettin’ my destination and goin’ toward Saks Fifth Avenue instead.
“Shit. Where you?”
“At the mall,” I said.
“Ooh, bitch,” she replied. “Which one, Paramus or Short Hills?”
“Neither,” I said.
She sucked her teeth. “Well, which one then? Shit. You coulda hit me up to roll with ya ass. You know I can always use a new pair of heels. You stay tryna dip on a bitch.”
“Whatever, ho,” I said, laughin’. “I’m at Fashion Valley Mall, and the shit is fiiiyah. They got some—”
“Fashion what? Is that some new shit in Jersey?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, bitch,” I said. “San Diego.”
She sucked her teeth, laughin’. “San Diego? What the hell?! I swear ya ass down with the secret society or some shit, as much shit you keep on the low. When you gonna be home?”
“In a few days,” I said, runnin’ my hands over this bangin’-ass black Donna Karan wrap-and-tie jersey dress. I looked at the tag: $2,495.00. Now the old me woulda boosted the shit quick, fast, and in a muthafuckin’ hurry; I’da had that dress plucked from its hanger. “Listen, ho. I’m tryna get my shop on. I’ll hit you back when I touch.”
“Whatever. Oh, shit”—she snapped her fingas—“I almost forgot why I called ya ass. You know that dude ya moms is fuckin’?”
For some reason my stomach knotted up. “Yeah,” I said slowly. “What about him?”
“Well, word has it that the nigga got outta prison sometime last year. I think for robbery or some shit. The nigga’s from Brownsville.”
“Okay and?” I said, eyein’ another Donna Karan creation, this slick-ass slip dress. Hmmm, I’d wear the fuck outta this.
“I just thought you might wanna know.”
I rolled my eyes, shiftin’ my cell from one ear to the other. “On some real shit, Chanel, I don’t give a fuck. That’s my mother’s shit. Not mine. When I said I was done with her ass, that’s what the fuck it is.”
“I hear you, girl.” She paused. “Anyway, I don’t know if I should say anything, but since you my girl ’n shit…”
I frowned my face up. “You shouldn’t say shit to me ’bout what?” I asked, runnin’ my hands along the rack of designer wears.
“Well, you might wanna know that the word is ya moms is knocked up.”
I almost dropped the fuckin’ phone. “Say what?!?”
“Yeah, girl. Ya moms was down at the doctor’s office yesterday with that nigga.”
Pregnant? I ain’t gonna front. Hearing that shit had a bitch’s head spinnin’. She couldn’t even raise me right. Unh-uh, ain’t no way in muthafuckin’ hell her neglectful ass would be that damn dizzy to let another child slip outta her snatch, I thought.
“Where’d you hear that shit?” I asked.
“Well, you didn’t hear this from me, but Tameka works at some doctor’s office over on…damn, I think it’s Atlantic Ave. Anyway, she told Tamia ya moms was up in that piece.”
Okay, now I’m pissed. This bitch, Tameka, is not only disclosin’ confidential shit, but she’s flappin’ her jaws to her gossipin’-ass sista. That shit was fucked up. And I was gonna check that bitch when I saw her.
“Well, that’s on her dumb ass.” Although I said that shit, I’m not sure if that’s what I really meant. “Besides, goin’ to a doctor doesn’t mean her ass is pregnant. She coulda been there for a check-up or somethin’.”
“Hmmm, I guess.”
“Hmm…nothin’,” I snapped. “What the fuck is that retarded bitch runnin’ her fuckin’ mouth for any damn way? Yeah, you right. You shoulda never told me this shit. ’Cause now, I’ma see Tameka’s trick ass. And it ain’t gonna be cute. How the fuck is she gonna be workin’ in a doctor’s office, tellin’ bitches who’s comin’ and goin’ outta that muhfucka. Let me go,” I said, stormin’ outta Saks. This ho had fucked up my mood. I peeped the time. It was already a little past nine p.m. The mall was gonna be closin’ soon any damn way. I needed to get back to my hotel and take off this fuckin’ hot-ass wig and take out these contacts. And, if I had it my way, fuck my frustrations away.
“If you gonna call ya moms, don’t tell her you got that shit from me. Just ask her.”
“Whatever. I’m out.” I disconnected the call, walkin’ toward the exit. I was too fuckin’ through. I really wasn’t sure if I wanted to call my moms or not. Even though in my mind I was sayin’ I really didn’t give a fuck, my heart was sayin’ some other shit. Either way, whether she was knocked the fuck up or not, I was gonna push Tameka’s muthafuckin’ biscuit in for puttin’ my mom’s business on front street. So the fuck what if I ain’t fuckin’ with her. That shit was still low budget. Fuckin’ bum-ass bitch! Ugh, I needed a damn blunt.
On my way out to the car, my cell rang again. It was Grant. “Hello.”
“What’s good, beautiful?”
“You,” I said. I don’t know why, but a bitch was cheesin’ all hard ’n shit and I didn’t even know what the nigga’s dick stroke was like. Though a chick like me ain’t needy ’n shit, it would be kinda nice to have some steady dick to ride. It’s been a long fuckin’ time, I thought, placin’ the earpiece over my ear, since I’ve fucked a nigga I didn’t have to kill.
“You miss me?”
“Nigga, please,” I said, laughin’. “You got the wrong number. That’s that other bitch you got suckin’ ya dick.”
He laughed. “Nah, baby. I got the right number. You the chick with that sweet, hot pussy I’m tryna get up in.”
I pushed the button to the alarm, opened the door, then slid into my rental. Before puttin’ on my seatbelt, I dug through my bag and pulled out a half-lit blunt I had smoked earlier that mornin’, then lit it. “Take a number and get at the back of the line, then. ’Cause the wait’s gonna be a while.” I puffed the blunt, takin’ in long, deep pulls as I started the engine, then backed outta my parkin’ space. I exhaled, and the smoke filled the car.
“Oh, word. Then I guess you don’t know me. I’m bum-rushin’ niggas to the front spot, then I’m snatchin’ ya sexy ass up and puttin’ this dick to you.” I laughed, almost chokin’. “You aiight?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” I coughed again. “Oh, shit. You got me chokin’ ’n shit. You silly as hell.”
“Nah, it’s all good, ma. I’m just fuckin’ with you.”
“Oh, so what you sayin’ is, you don’t want none of this pussy?” I joked. “You don’t wanna see how deep ya dick can go, and just how wet it can get?”
“Hell yeah!” he said excitedly. “Just say the word, and I’m there; strokin’ all up in it.”
“Oh, now you soundin’ all eager ’n shit.”
He laughed again. “I am, baby. I am. You got a nigga’s shit bricked, real talk. But I can wait. Trust me. I’m a real patient-type cat.”
“And good things come to niggas who wait,” I said, gettin’ back on Interstate 15, hittin’ sixty. Ugh, if I’da been in my own whip, I’da been pushin’ a hundred by now. I ain’t gonna front, talkin’ to him and smokin’ that blunt had me feelin’ real relaxed and fuckin’ horny. A bitch was ready to fuck. I’ma do this mark tonight. “Listen, I’m outta town for a few days and I’m on my way back to the hotel. Can I hit you up later?”
“Most def,” he said. “Be safe, baby.”
“Thanks. I will,” I said before disconnectin’ the call.
By the time I got to back to the hotel it was almost 9:45, and I still hadn’t eaten. So I ordered some Chinese food from this spot up the street from the hotel and had it delivered. Since it was only Monday night, and my mark still had another four days left at his conference, I had hoped to quietly knock on his door to try ’n get a feel of this nigga. If things went well, maybe get a dose of dick tonight, and again two more nights before I slumped his ass. But of course I got sidetracked and ended up chillin’ in the room.
Besides, Cash had called just before I got outta my rental to see what was good. He wanted me to murk his ass tonight, but I told him no. I assured him I’d have a bullet in the nigga’s head before midnight Wednesday. I wanted to watch him for a minute—see how he moved, then make my move. In the meantime, I wanted to do a little sightseein’, and see what was poppin’ with the nightlife. I had heard the Gaslamp Quarter was live Thursday thru Sunday, and a bitch wanted to stretch this trip out as long as I could to see all of what beautiful San Diego had to offer.
After my shower, I blazed another blunt and paced the floor in my purple lace panties with my titties bouncin’ free and my hair wrapped in a white towel. I glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand: 11:19 p.m. I slid open the patio door, then stepped outside. I smoked my blunt, starin’ out at the marina. It was absolutely gorgeous and peaceful out. Definitely a night for deep, slow fuckin’.
I finished the rest of my blunt, then slid my hands down in my panties. I pressed on my clit, brushed my finga ’cross it, teasin’ it while lightly pinchin’ my nipple. A bitch was horny! Unh-uh, I need more than this. I stopped what I was doin’ and raced back into the suite. I dumped open my bag, grabbed what I needed, took a towel from outta the bathroom, then went back outside.
I laid the towel across the patio chair, sat down, then draped my legs over the arms of the chair and slid the head of my dildo into my pussy, teasin’ my slit with the tip. I rested my head on the back of the chair and pushed my make-believe dick in halfway, then quickly pulled it out. I did it again and again until I couldn’t take it anymore, then plunged it deep into my pussy. I moaned. I wanted some real dick bad, needed to be fucked rough. I slammed my dildo in and out of my pussy with one hand and jerked my clit off until I shot my nut all over the dildo. I pulled it outta my wet, sticky pussy, then sucked the juices off it. A bitch was spent. I got up and took my ass to bed.
Seven a.m., I was up, showered, dressed, and on my way out the door for breakfast in the waterfront restaurant. If my hunch was right, I’d catch my mark there. I walked through the tropical garden, and couldn’t believe how beautiful it was. The parrots and pond set it off just right. I peeped the pool and all the swayin’ palms and decided I’d have to do a few laps before I bounced.
When I stepped through the door of the restaurant, I quickly scanned the area. Voila! Just like I suspected, my mark was sittin’ at a corner table, readin’ a newspaper and drinkin’ a cup of coffee. I had to give it to him, for an older cat, the nigga was fine and definitely fuckable. I switched my ass toward an empty table two tables away from him. I made sure I sat where he could see a fly bitch in all her goodness. Even in my brown bob-cut wig and brown contacts, I was sexy and sensual. I stood up and removed my brown crochet poncho. Underneath, I was rockin’ a brown one-piece Lycra cat suit. The shit clung to every curve, wrappin’ ’round my ass and titties like a perfect glove, while showin’ off the imprint of my fat pussy. I had it zipped down low ’n sexy, lettin’ a muhfucka know what time it was with my titty game.
After the waiter took my order, I got up and headed toward the bathroom, passin’ my mark’s table. I caught his eye, and smiled. His eyes lit the fuck up as he returned the smile. “Good morning,” he said.
“Good mornin’,” I replied, keepin’ it movin’. I took my time in the bathroom, standin’ in front of the mirror. I pressed on another coat of lipstick, then twirled a strand of hair, makin’ sure it was on point. The last thing I needed was tryna be fierce with a lopsided wig piece. As I was comin’ outta the bathroom, I hoped my mark was still at his table. He was. And I purposefully threw an extra shake in my ass as I walked by, takin’ my seat. I swept my eyes ’round the room to see what was what. There were a few square-type niggas at another table with two nondescript bitches, and a slew of white muhfuckas, definitely nothin’ to write home about. Humph. Then came this blonde-haired, blue-eyed, bombshell-type chick outta the bathroom. She walked by with her head up. She musta been in the stall, I thought as she waltzed by.
This ho was dipped in ice. I peeped her Jimmy Choo slingbacks and Louie Louis bag. Alright, you betta work, bitch! I glanced over my shoulder to see who she was with. She took her seat at a table on the other side of the room with a cluster of white chicks with they faces beat to death with a bunch of pressed powder and whatnot. But you could tell them bitches were paid out the ass.
When my order came, I peeped my mark glancin’ over at me several times. I smiled at him and slid my fork in and outta my mouth nice ’n slow and very sexy-like, lickin’ my lips. He smiled back. Yeah, nigga, I know you want some of this good pussy. I see it in ya eyes. Don’t worry, muhfucka, I’ma let ya dip ya tongue up in it.
I even peeped a few white cats eyein’ me on the sly. They knew a classy bitch when they saw one. And I was servin’ it lovely. E’ery so often, my target would look up from his paper, and I’d flirt with him with my eyes just to fuck with him. There’s somethin’ ’bout the way a man looks at me that lets me know just what’s on his mind. I took a few more bites of my fruit salad, sipped my glass of water with lemon, then slowly got up to leave. I watched him eye me as I slipped my poncho over my head. I flirted with him with my eyes, then smiled. He smiled. I winked and blew him a kiss, then turned on my heels and sashayed toward the exit, lookin’ back to catch him with his eyes glued to my ass. I smiled again, then strutted out the door.
Then the next two mornins I did the same shit, eyein’ him real sexy, lickin’ my lips and whatnot, baitin’ his ass, then gettin’ up and leavin’ abruptly. I was fuckin’ with the muhfucka, lettin’ him know what was really good without words. And he obviously heard me, ’cause on the fourth day, he got up from his seat, walked over to my table, and spoke. That’s right, big daddy, come on over to lil’ momma.
“Mind if I join you?”
I let my eyes linger over his body, focused on the center of his crotch, then slowly looked up into his eyes. “Not at all,” I said, smilin’.
He went back to get his things, then returned to my table and sat across from me. “So, tell me,” he said, leanin’ forward in his seat and restin’ his elbows on the table. “What’s a beautiful woman like you doing here all by herself?”
I stared into his eyes. Although I knew they were brown, they almost looked black. And they sparkled. I noticed specks of gray in his mustache and beard. Damn, this old nigga was fine.
“Waitin’ for a man like you,” I said as I licked my lips.
He smiled, blushin’ ’n shit. “Is that so?”
“Absolutely.”
“Stanley,” he said, stickin’ his hand out to me. I allowed my hand to get lost in his grip. Hmm…I can’t wait to feel them big hands squeezin’ this ass, I thought.
And I’m horny. I smiled. “Natasha,” I offered. Then we spent the next thirty minutes talkin’. He was an architect from Upper Marlboro, Maryland, and had been in San Diego for over a week. Although I was actin’ like I was really listenin’ to him while he rattled on ’bout his corny-ass architecture conference, I wasn’t beat. I nodded and smiled, and gave him what looked like my undivided attention. But the only thing on my mind was tryna figure out how I was gonna get into his room, get at his dick, then shut his lights. I ain’t gonna front, his deep Barry White-soundin’ voice had my pussy lips flappin’ open. But the nigga—fine and all—was a fuckin’ bore. And that’s capital, B-O-R-E. Humph…I could see why his wife divorced his tired ass. I tried so fuckin’ hard to look interested in him goin’ on and on ’bout his buildin’ designs and his love for classical and jazz music. Oh my God, I wanted to splatter his fuckin’ brains right there on the spot.
About another ten minutes into the conversation, I got up and excused myself to go to the bathroom. I had to put this muhfucka outta his misery quick. I looked under the two stalls to make sure no one else was around, then flipped open the Kat line and called Cash.
“Yo, what’s good? You take care of that, yet?”
“Tonight,” I said.
“Cool. Make it happen,” he replied. “You the only one takin’ three and four days to handle ya business, tryna make vacations out the shit. I want this square handled tonight, Kat; you holdin’ my peoples up with ya bullshit.”
I sucked my teeth, rollin’ my eyes. “I said tonight, nigga. Damn. Look, I gotta go. I’ll call you later.”
“Don’t—” Click. I disconnected the call, walkin’ outta the bathroom back to the table.
“Sorry ’bout that,” I said, sittin’ back down. I glanced around the room and noticed there were hardly any people there. Good. The fewer people who see us talkin’ the better, I thought.
He was sippin’ on his second cup of coffee. He set his cup down and smiled. “No problem. So…you never said what brings you to beautiful San Diego.”
You, muhfucka, I thought. “Change of scenery,” I told his ass, lickin’ my neatly painted lips.
“Is that right?”
I nodded, keepin’ my gaze on him.
“So, is this change for business or pleasure?”
I eyed him real sexy-like, then slowly licked my lips again. “Both,” I answered, claspin’ my hands together on the table. I leaned in. “Listen. Let me ask you this to get it outta the way before I go any further with this. You married? ’Cause I ain’t lookin’ for no drama from the Mrs.” Even though I usually know the answer to this question, I always like askin’ just to see what a nigga’s gonna say. Nine times outta ten, the muhfucka’s gonna lie outta his ass.
“Divorced,” he stated. “And you?”
“Besides bein’ very horny, I’m single.”
He laughed. “Interesting combination,” he said, starin’ at my titties. I stuck my chest out more, givin’ him a better view.
“They feel even better,” I told him.
He let out a nervous chuckle, then cleared his throat. “I guess you can say I’m weak for…uh, a beautiful woman.” Like most muhfuckas, I thought. He glanced at his watch. “Oh, shoot. I gotta get going. I wish I could stay longer and talk, but I gotta swing past my room before my conference starts. How ’bout we get together tonight; say, like, eight? And we can finish where we left off.”
I decided I had better go for the kill, and let his ass know what it was. “If we get together tonight, talkin’ is not what I’m lookin’ for.” I leaned in, lowerin’ my voice. “A thick dick is. Can you help me with that?”
He grinned, but I could tell I had caught his ass off guard. “I think I might be able to figure out something without much talk.”
“Then I promise to make it a night you’ll never forget.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes, it is. I just hope you can handle a young bit—chick like me.”
He stood up, smilin’. “Oh, I’m sure I can handle it. Eight o’clock good?”
Yeah, muhfucka, it’s good. You just make sure that dick is good. I licked my lips. “I can hardly wait.”
He leaned into me, then whispered into my ear, “Room 110. See you tonight.”
I smiled, slowly noddin’ my head. “Yes, you will, daddy. Yes, indeed you will.”
For the rest of the day, I lounged ’round the pool, took a nap, then went downtown to take in the sights. I even tried one of them fish tacos e’eryone said I had to try. Yeah, okay? I’m still tryna figure out what the hype was all about. Chunks of cod fish, shredded cabbage, and a bunch of white cream stuffed in a tortilla didn’t do it for a bitch like me.
Eight p.m., I was knockin’ on my target’s door wearin’ a black car coat, a matchin’ cap, and black spiked, knee-high boots. I scanned the area to make sure the coast was clear. I was glad no one was around to see me at his door. Besides, I couldn’t have a picked a better night to get at him. The hotel was havin’ some kinda blues concert on the grounds, so the music was loud and most of the guests were there. He opened the door, and I quickly stepped in.
“Hello, beautiful,” he said, closin’ the door behind him. “I’m glad you came. I was hoping you weren’t gonna stand me up.”
I set my bag on the wooden desk. “I’m a woman of my word,” I said, unsnappin’ my coat, then lettin’ it hit the floor. Underneath, I had on a sheer black teddy. “And I never turn down the opportunity to suck on a big chocolate dick. You do have a big dick, don’t you, daddy?”
He smiled, openin’ his white terrycloth robe. “I sure do,” he said, pullin’ it outta his striped boxers.
Mmmm, it was thick; even soft. And the dick was cut! My mouth watered. “Then come on over to Momma and let me wrap my soft lips ’round it, while I play in my hot pussy. I hope you can nut more than once, baby, ’cause tonight I’ma show you how a young chick does it.”
“I’m sure I can manage. It’s been a long time since I’ve had some young, tight pussy.”
“Then tonight is ya lucky night.” Muhfucka, I thought to myself. “Now come give me that big dick.”
“Damn, baby, I see you don’t waste any time.”
“Why should I?” I asked, walkin’ over to his patio and lookin’ out. He had a beautiful view of the hotel’s tropical garden. Humph. I woulda loved fuckin’ his ass under one of them palm trees. Oh, well. I turned back around to face him. “We’re all on borrowed time. And I don’t have any of it to waste. So I wanna get it all in while I can. Now stop with all the extras and bring that fat, black dick over here so I can wet it up for ya.”
“And you’re demanding,” he commented, grinnin’. “I like that.” He turned off the hall light, leavin’ the bathroom light on, slowly makin’ his way toward me.
As he walked over to me, I noticed the nigga was slightly bow-legged. And his thighs were muscular. For an old dude, the muhfucka had a nice, strong body. I pinched my nipples, then ran my hand across my pussy. The minute he walked up on me, I dropped down to my knees and snatched his boxers down, where they stayed wrapped around his ankles as I took his soft dick into my mouth, slowly suckin’ and kissin’ and lickin’ all over it, twirlin’ my tongue ’round the head until it started to get thicker and longer.
“Aaaah, shit. Damn, you know how to suck some dick,” he said, dippin’ at the knees. I lifted up his balls and started suckin’ and lickin’ on ’em while usin’ my soft hands to jack off his dick. “Damn, girl! Oh, shit…you tryna make me bust this nut, huh?”
I nodded and moaned, lookin’ up at him. “Give me that sweet milk, daddy.”
“Yeah, pretty baby,” he said, grabbin’ me by the back of my head. Oh, no you don’t, nigga! I quickly removed his hand before he accidentally tangled his big-ass hands up in my wig. “Wet daddy’s dick up, baby girl…”
A bitch started gettin’ real nasty with it, spittin’ and slobberin’ all over his cock, makin’ a lotta smackin’ and poppin’ sounds with my lips and mouth, then lickin’ up the spit from around his balls. “Oh, shit…oh, shit…oh, shit…” His left leg started shakin’. I reached up and started squeezin’ his muscular, hairy ass with my hands, swallowin’ his dick balls deep, like only a true dick sucka can. The nigga’s dick was nice ’n hot and tasted so fuckin’ good. My pussy was drippin’. My clit was throbbin’ for this muhfucka’s tongue on it. I got up, then pushed him backward on the bed.
“I want you to eat my pussy, daddy,” I whispered, crawlin’ up on top of him, like a panther in heat. I sucked on his nipples, allowed my tongue to circle around ’em, kissed down his stomach, then brushed my lips over the head of his dick, then turned around and straddled his face. “Fuck me with ya tongue,” I purred, lowerin’ my pussy down on his lips. I took his dick back in my mouth and sucked him like a hungry, cum-guzzlin’ trick while he licked and lapped and ate my pussy. I moaned. “Uh…hmmm…oh, yes…”
After I nutted on his tongue, a bitch was ready for some dick. Besides, I didn’t want this muhfucka thinkin’ it was okay for him to nut in my mouth. So I shifted my body ’round and started lappin’ at his fat balls, jerkin’ his dick.
“You ready to fuck me, daddy?” I asked, sittin’ up and lickin’ and suckin’ my nipples. “You ready to put that dick in my tight pussy?”
He nodded. “Yeah, daddy’s ready to fuck that young, sweet pussy.” The nigga lay there like he was ready to dick me raw. Oh, hell no! I looked at his ass like he was fuckin’ crazy.
“Well, get ya ass up and get a condom,” I snapped. When the muhfucka told me he didn’t have any, I was fuckin’ through. Do you hear me? Done! “What?!” I yelled. “You jokin’, right?”
He sat up on the bed, leanin’ back on his forearms. “Sorry, babe, when I travel I don’t usually carry condoms with me. I don’t usually get offered pussy from beautiful young women. Besides, I thought you were gonna bring some.”
What the fuck! I took a deep breath, gettin’ up off the bed. A bitch was in heat, and this muhfucka wasn’t even prepared to stoke my fire. I walked over to the other side of the room and yanked up my bag. I dug inside it while walkin’ back over to the bed. Though his balcony door was closed, you could still hear the band blarin’ outside. I wrapped my hand ’round what I needed.
“Well,” I said. “I guess that means there’ll be no pussy for you. And since you gypped a bitch from gettin’ her fuck on, I’ma hafta shut ya lights out early,” I said, pullin’ out my Glock and spittin’ a bullet in his forehead. His head jerked backward before he had a chance to open his mouth. “Night-night, muhfucka!”
I wiped his ass down and e’erything I touched, then removed his sheets. I stared at his big dick and rolled my eyes. Damn you! I leaned over and licked it one last time, then threw the comforter over his body and snuck outta his room.
Back in my suite, I opened up my cell and called Cash. “I know why the caged bird sings,” I said, pullin’ off my wig and takin’ off the rest of my costume.
“That’s what it is,” he replied. “It’s ’bout damn time. I’ll get at you.”
I said nothin’, just hung up. I glanced over at the clock on my nightstand. It was nine-thirty. “I’m takin’ my ass down to the Gaslamp Quarter tonight to get my dance on before I jet tomorrow,” I said aloud, layin’ ’cross the bed and spreadin’ open my legs, then reachin’ for my dildo. “But first I’ma finish gettin’ my nut off.” How that dumb muhfucka not gonna have a goddamn condom, I thought as I plunged the head of my dildo inside my hungry, soppin’-wet pussy. I shoulda shot his bitch ass in his fuckin’ nuts.