Come on in from off the block…remove ya hoodie ’n Timbs…drop ya boxers…lay back…relax…let’s smoke some trees…chill for a while…close ya eyes…free ya mind…listen to the tick of the clock…while I drop to my knees…I’m here to give ya what ya body needs…let a real bitch climb up on ya dick…wet it nice ’n slow…lose ya’self in this pussy heat…call my name, nigga…let Kat spill ya nuts…betta get it while ya can…’cause I’m a ’bout to open ya guts…
It was almost seven-thirty p.m., and I had just turned left onto Monument Street and was makin’ my way toward the Peabody Court Hotel in the Mount Vernon section of Baltimore. Instead of takin’ that borin’-ass three-hour drive, I flew into the Baltimore–Washington International Airport, and had the first flight outta there in the mornin’. I didn’t even bother tellin’ Grant I was outta town since I was gonna be back in Jersey long before he even realized I was ghost. Besides, it really wasn’t any of his fuckin’ business. But, just in case the nigga called tryna come through, I decided I was gonna tell ’im I was out chillin’ with my girls.
I pulled up in front of the hotel entrance in my rental, then got out and grabbed my overnight bag. I handed the keys to the valet, then made my way into the hotel lobby.
“Hello, welcome to the Peabody,” the perky white chick said, greetin’ me with a wide, toothy smile. She was a cute blonde chick with big-ass teeth. Humph. She reminded me of Mr. Ed ’round that mouthpiece.
“Hi,” I said, givin’ her a phony-ass grin. “I have a reservation.” I gave her my name, slidin’ my bogus ID to her.
She clicked the computer keys with her long fingas, pullin’ up my information. “Ah, yes, Ms. Carmichael. Here you are.” She clicked the keys a few more times, then waited for the room printout. “There’s a package here for you as well,” she said, handin’ me back my ID.
“Oh, good,” I replied.
“Let me go get it for you,” she said, handin’ me my room key, and the printout to sign. “You’re in room 302.” I smiled to myself, knowin’ my mark’s room was right ’cross the hall from me. I never figured out how Cash always managed to know exactly what rooms these marks were in, but he did. The nigga had connects all over the country, in almost every type of industry. A muhfucka with that kinda power was not only dangerous, but it made my clit pulse, real talk. And I knew that the thing that kept me from fuckin’ Cash was the fact that his ass was gorilla ugly. Otherwise I’d probably been had his dick in my throat. She came back with a small brown box. “Here you go,” she said, handin’ it to me.
“Thanks,” I replied, gatherin’ my things to bounce.
“Enjoy your stay.”
“I’m sure I will.” I walked off toward the elevator.
Once I was inside my room, I dropped my shit on the bed, stripped off my wears, then headed to the bathroom to run the shower. I wanted to get showered and chill for a minute before it was time to tap on my mark’s door to bring him room service—pussy and a bullet.
I decided to wait ’til ’round eleven to make my way ’cross the hall to his room. I had already changed up my look by skillfully puttin’ in my Especially Yours light-auburn Bohemian clip-in extensions wig, then puttin’ in a pair of contact lenses. The look was cute. Knowin’ how to rock a wig and beat this face really helped to keep my look fresh, and keep muhfuckas from identifyin’ me if shit got messy. I removed the hotel towel from ’round my body, then pulled out a handmade feathered flower from its satin pouch and dusted my body with Kama Sutra Honey Dust, Sweet Honeysuckle. Humph. I loved that shit. It conditioned the skin, leavin’ it silky smooth and glowin’. And it kept a nigga wantin’ to kiss all over ya body. Then I slipped into a breezy, multi-colored, abstract print Issa London kimono dress with plungin’ V neckline. The shit was sexy as hell. And for the grand finale, I slipped my feet into a pair of four-inch Gucci Page pumps, then tossed my gun into my large white Michael Kors Beverly Python drawstring satchel. I peeked outta the door e’ery so often to make sure there was no one wanderin’ the halls. When the coast was clear, I made my way to my mark’s door and gently knocked.
My target for the night was a tall, thin but nicely chiseled, brown-skinned, B-ball-type nigga. He had a neatly trimmed mustache, goatee, and low-cut fade with thick eyebrows. He was thirty-one and recently married. Although I was ’bout to make his wife a widow, I was glad the nigga didn’t have any children. I always hated havin’ to body muhfuckas who had kids; I was robbin’ them of havin’ a father in their life. Oh well…life goes on!
For some reason, e’ery time I was ’bout to earth a nigga, I stressed ’bout havin’ to go into plan B, in case a muhfucka wasn’t beat for pussy, or I just couldn’t get at ’im the way I wanted. The whole idea of havin’ to squat somewhere in a tinted-out car, or be crouched down low, hidin’ in bushes with a night-scope on my gun, waitin’ to take a shot at a muhfucka, did not appeal to a freaky bitch like me. And I damn sure didn’t wanna haveta flat-out shoot the nigga up without ridin’ down on his dick first.
When there was no answer, I took a deep breath and knocked again. Although I heard the TV on, I knew that didn’t mean his ass was in the room. I knocked again. And smiled when I heard a voice on the other side.
“Just a minute,” the deep voice said. I heard the chain latch slidin’, then the door opened. Humph, this nigga was fine. He stood in the doorway wearin’ a white wife beater and some navy blue basketball shorts. “Can I help you?”
I scanned his body real slow and easy, startin’ from his feet and calves, to his thighs, then the center of his crotch, to his chiseled chest and finally into his eyes. I smiled. “Oooh, I’m sorry,” I said, standin’ with my back straight, my chest out showin’ cleavage for days, and my left leg forward, givin’ him my best model stance while my satchel hung in the crook of my right arm. “I’m lookin’ for Anthony.”
My nipples were hard from the light brush of the fabric against ’em. And it was makin’ me horny. He tried hard to keep his focus on my eyes and not my titties. I smiled to myself when he glanced at ’em. “Sorry, beautiful, no one by that name is here.”
I acted like I was confused. “This is room 321, right?”
He looked at the room number on the door. “Sure is, but no Anthony is staying here.”
I had already spent two minutes in the hallway with him and was startin’ to get antsy. I needed to get inside his room, and quick, before someone came out. I sucked my teeth, actin’ like I was upset. “Oh, shit. I can’t believe I done drove all the way down here, and this fool done gave me the wrong information. Well, I’m sorry for disturbin’ you.”
He smiled. “It’s cool; you weren’t disturbing me. I was just watching TV.”
Okay, bitch, you need to hurry up and get into this nigga’s room, I thought to myself, glancin’ at my timepiece. “You mean to tell me a nice-lookin’ brotha like you is all holed up in this room solo? Now, that’s a crime.”
He laughed. “Yeah, well, it is what it is. I’m outta this piece in the mornin’ so it’s all good.”
“Well, let me get goin’. I guess I gotta go find out where this fool is. You enjoy the rest of ya night.”
“You, too,” he said, lickin’ his lips. “Sorry I couldn’t help you.”
I smiled, preparin’ to walk off. “If I can’t track my friend down, who knows…maybe you can.”
“Hell,” he said, smilin’, “if it makes you feel better, I can pretend to be him if you’d like.”
“You know what,” I said, turnin’ around, “do you mind if I come in for a minute before I decide what I wanna do?”
He opened the door wider, and smiled, steppin’ back. “Not at all.” He spread his arm out, invitin’ me into his space. I smiled as I lightly brushed past him, throwin’ an extra shake in my ass. I silently blew out a sigh, relieved that I’d gotten up in his room. I glanced at my watch again. It took me four minutes to get in. “Here, have a seat,” he said, removin’ his clothes from outta one of the chairs. He had shit e’erywhere. Clothes, footwear, and newspapers were tossed all over the place.
“You mind if I use ya bathroom?”
“No, help ya’self.”
I went into the bathroom and shut the door. This nigga was a damn slob. Humph, I thought, frownin’. I’ma be doin’ his wife a big-ass favor. Hell, if these niggas he fucked over wasn’t tryna earth his nasty ass, it would only be a matter of time before his wife wanted him bodied. He had wet towels on the floor, and the nasty muhfucka had piss still in the toilet—and it was dark enough to look like he had pissed a few times without flushin’. I rolled my eyes, and flushed the toilet like I was gettin’ ready to use it. I flipped open my cell and called Cash, whisperin’ into the phone to let him know what was what, then I called my house and started spazzin’ like I was really talkin’ to somebody named Anthony. I talked loud enough so dude could hear bits ’n pieces of what I was sayin’, if he was eavesdroppin’, which I knew he probably was.
When I was finished, I flushed the toilet again, then ran the water and washed my hands and dried ’em with some tissue. I smiled at myself in the mirror, then walked back out into the room. Dude was sittin’ on the edge of the bed, leanin’ back on his forearms. I peeped the slight lump in his shorts as I walked by, and licked my lips.
“So where you from?” he asked.
“Jersey,” I said.
“Oh, word? What part?”
“Jersey City,” I lied.
“So, what brought you down this way?”
I tilted my head, twirlin’ one of the wig’s curls. “If I told you, you gonna think I’m crazy.”
“No I won’t. Try me.”
“Dick,” I said, eyein’ him and taking a seat across from the bed. “That’s what brought me down here.”
He shut his legs together real tight, then opened them and fanned a few times. I could see the happy lump in his lap start to thicken.
“Really,” he said, noddin’ his head and grinnin’. “So, this Anthony cat, is he ya man or something?”
I leaned back in my seat and crossed my legs, allowin’ my dress to rise up over my thigh. He glanced at my smooth legs, but quickly shifted his eyes. I shook my head. “Nah, he’s just this married dude I fuck from time to time.”
“Damn, it’s like that, huh?”
I decided to get up in his head and fuck with him a bit. I nodded. “Mmm-hmm. On some real shit, there’s just somethin’ ’bout fuckin’ a married man that turns me on.”
“Oh, is that right?” He started playin’ with the string to his shorts, then slowly pullin’ at the edge of his tee shirt, liftin’ his shirt up enough for me to see the curly patch of hair ’round his navel. “So, what you gonna do? You gonna track dude down?”
“Nope,” I said, uncrossin’ my left leg, then shiftin’ in my seat and crossin’ my right leg. “I called him while I was in the bathroom, and cursed him out for havin’ me waste my gas and money. So he won’t be gettin’ none of this tonight. I’m pissed I gotta turn ’round and take that long drive back to Jersey. I was really lookin’ forward to somethin’ real thick and chocolate tonight.”
“Damn,” he stated, shakin’ his head. “That’s f-d up. Well, you know…you can chill here if you want. As you can see it’s just me up in here.”
Bitch, shoot this nigga and be done with this shit. I glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand. It was 11:45 p.m. “Oh, no, I couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t be safe for me to chill up in here.”
He laughed. “Nah, you safe, baby. I don’t bite. Well, not unless you want me to.”
I laughed. “Oh, it’s not you I’m worried ’bout. It’s me. As horny as I am, I’ll be the one who might end up tryna bite you,” I teased. “So bein’ alone in a room with a fine man is definitely not a safe move.”
“Oh, I’m a big boy,” he said, spreadin’ his legs open as wide as they would go. “I think I can handle a little bitin’ if it got to that point.”
“Be careful what you ask for,” I said, eyein’ him playfully. “I’ma chick in heat, and that makes me dangerous.”
“Oh, yeah. Well, check this. I like livin’ on the edge, baby.” He stood up, proudly displayin’ an imprint of a long, thick dick hangin’ down the front of his shorts. I pressed my legs shut to pinch off the excitement stirrin’ in the center of my pussy. “How ’bout I go hop in the shower, and then we can really chill?”
I smiled. “Sounds promisin’. I hope you can deliver.”
“Give me a sec, and I’ll show you what it is.”
He went into the bathroom, leavin’ the door cracked. I heard the shower go on, and the curtain slide back, then slide again. I waited a few more seconds to make sure he was in the shower, then got up and slid my gun up under the side of his mattress. I sat back down and waited for him to come back out.
Ten minutes later, he walked back into the bedroom with a towel wrapped ’round his waist and droplets of water still on his chest and arms. He dried the top half of his body with another towel. My God, this chiseled nigga’s body was so fuckin’ tight I wanted to throw him down on the bed and fuck him through tomorrow. I glanced at the clock, then returned my attention to him. I was ready to fuck. And ready to get this shit over with. I stared at him as he stood in the middle of the room, then a sly grin spread ’cross my face.
“Drop ya towel,” I said, standin’ up to remove my dress, “and stroke ya dick for me.” I slowly slipped outta my wears, standin’ in front of him in just my heels and black lace thong. He took my body in, starin’ at my titties and huge dark nipples that were hard and achin’ for his tongue on ’em. He kept his eyes on me as he started pullin’ at his long dick, swingin’ it, and cuppin’ his smooth, fat balls. “Ooooh, you got a big dick,” I moaned, pinchin’ my nipples.
“You like that shit, baby?” he asked, strokin’ his dick until it stiffened and got longer. “Damn, girl, you got a nice body. Turn ’round; let me see that ass.” I slowly turned around, givin’ him a full back view of my soft, fluffy ass. “Damn, girl,” he said, pumpin’ his dick in and outta his hand. “You gotta big ass. Bend over and open that shit up for me. Let me see the back of that pussy, and that pretty asshole.” I smiled, lookin’ over my shoulder at him dippin’ at the knees while beatin’ his dick. I removed my thong and bent all the way over, pullin’ open my ass cheeks for him. “Oh, shit. Damn, that pussy looks good.”
“And it tastes good, too,” I said, makin’ my ass clap ’n bounce for him. “Come over here and stick ya tongue up in it.”
“You gonna suck this long dick, right?”
“Yeah, nigga, after you let me wet ya tongue up with some of this hot suga juice,” I said, placin’ my left foot up in the chair, then bendin’ over and grabbin’ my right ankle without bendin’ my knee. He started walkin’ toward me with his extra hard cock in his hand, then dropped down on his knees, pullin’ open my ass. “Oh, yes,” I moaned as he slowly lapped at my slit. He kept on lappin’ and lappin, then dartin’ his tongue in and outta my pussy until I felt a nut startin’ to swell up in my belly.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, lickin’, kissin’ and slurpin’ my pussy, “I’ma tear this shit up.”
“Humph,” I grunted, slammin’ my ass up against his mouth. “Stop all that talkin’, nigga, and eat this pussy.” He shut the fuck up and buried his face back up in between my ass cheeks, then stuffed his tongue deep into my wet slit, reachin’ under me and playin’ with my clit. I moaned and bucked back on his tongue. He had my ass pulled so far apart and his face so deep up in it, I thought I squirted my nut in his eyes when it started gushin’ out. “Oh, yes…oh, yes…oh, yes…Uh, uh…Mmmph…” I kept cummin’ and cummin’ and cummin’ until I almost toppled over. He kept his mouth on my hole, slurpin’ up the last bit of my creamy nut.
“Damn, your pussy tastes good,” he said, standin’ up, lickin’ his lips. He grinned. “I can’t wait to ram this big-ass dick deep up in all that pretty, fat ass of yours.”
I turned around to face him, then grabbed his brick-hard cock in one hand as I reached up and pulled him by the neck with my other hand to pull his face to my lips. I started suckin’ my pussy juice offa his bottom lip, then his top lip. Then I shoved my tongue into his mouth and we tongue-kissed. I could taste and smell my pussy all over his lips and tongue and it was makin’ me hornier than a muhfucka. A bitch was ready to ride some dick. I backed him up toward the bed, then pushed him down on it and crawled up on top of him.
“Damn, baby,” he said, breathin’ all heavy ’n shit. “I don’t even know your name, and you got my head spinnin’.”
I looked him dead in the eyes, then leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry ’bout that. Just know I’m here to fuck you to heaven, nigga.” I slid down his body, leavin’ a trail of wet kisses along his chest, his stomach, then over his dick. I lifted up his dick and started kissin’ his balls nice ’n slow before puttin’ ’em into my mouth, one at a time, then wettin’ ’em up as I swirled my tongue ’round ’em. I gave the nigga an old-fashioned ball washin’. He let out a moan. “Ah, fuck…”
“You like that?” I asked, lookin’ up at him as I slowly took the head of his dick into my mouth, then swallowed him down. His eyes were shut, and he was suckin’ on his bottom lip.
“Hell yeah,” he answered, lookin’ down at me all lusty-eyed and whatnot. “Oh, shit…damn, baby, you know howta suck a dick. Ah, shit.”
I greedily sucked him while softly yankin’ and massagin’ his balls. I sucked him slow, sucked him deep, sucked the nigga so good he started shiverin’ and his toes opened all wide ’n shit, then closed real tight. “Oh, fuck…oh, fuck…Aaah…Damn, you gonna make me nut…Aaaaah, fuck…”
“I want you to put this big, muhfuckin’ dick up in me,” I said, pullin’ his dick outta my throat and comin’ up for air. “My pussy needs some dick. It’s so fuckin’ wet. You ready to fuck me?”
“Hell yeah,” he moaned. Actually, the shit sounded more like a growl. “I’m ready to fuck, deep and slow, baby.”
I slowly crawled up on top of him, then straddled him. I rested my throbbin’, drippin’ wet pussy along the shaft of his wide dick. We kissed while I ground down on him and he pushed up into me. “You feel that pussy heat?”
“Yeah, baby,” he said, buckin’ his hips up into me.
I leaned in and whispered in his ear, “I want you to fuck this hot pussy, nigga. Where ya condoms at?”
“Hold up,” he said, tryna catch his breath. “Let me go get one.” I rolled offa him, and he jumped up and started rummagin’ through his suitcase, then his briefcase. I eyed him as he dumped shit out, tryna find a wrapper. And on some real shit, a bitch was startin’ to get impatient. I glanced over at the clock. It was 12:38 a.m. If this muhfucka don’t hurry up, I’ma put a bullet dead in his ass, then blast his brains out. I took a deep breath and started countin’ in my head. I scooted to the center of the bed, then spread my legs wide, bendin’ ’em at the knees, rubbin’ my clit, preparin’ to welcome him into the Kat Trap.
But the nigga was still fumblin’ ’round the room lookin’ for a goddamn condom. “Um, what the fuck is takin’ you so long? This pussy is overheatin’ and I’m ready for some dick.”
“Give me a minute. I know I brought a box with me,” he said, flippin’ shit over, lookin’ all desperate and whatnot. He went into the bathroom, then came back out—empty-handed of course! “I don’t know where they are. Listen, baby, I don’t have anything. What about you?”
No…this…nigga…didn’t!
I twisted my face up, snappin’ up in the bed. “’Scuse me?”
He climbed back into the bed and looked me in the eyes. He ran his warm hand up and down my back. “I’m negative, baby. Disease free. Are you?”
“Oh, sooo, you wanna hit this tight pussy raw?”
“I’ll pull out. Just tell me where you want me to cum.” This nigga had the audacity to look at me all serious ’n shit. He leaned back onto his forearms and looked down at his rock-hard cock. My mind was made up. I knew what I had to do. I looked him dead in his face, grabbed his dick and started jerkin’ it, grinnin’. He smiled and winked. “Look how hard you got that dick.”
“And you want me to wet it up for you, don’t you?” I asked, jerkin’ his dick faster.
“Oh, shit, yeah.”
I let go of his dick and straddled him, then kissed him on the lips. “You want me to ride this”—I reached for his dick again, and started strokin’ it—“and show you where I want this big dick to shoot that hot nut?”
“Yeah, baby,” he moaned, holdin’ his head back.
This no-good, retarded muhfucka would really fuck me raw, then go home to his wife.
“Lay all the way back,” I said, stickin’ my tongue back into his mouth and grindin’ my pussy on his dick. I reached over and slid my hand under the side of his mattress and grabbed my gun. With my left hand, I reached under me and grabbed the base of his dick, then brushed it against the back of my pussy. I let the head of his dick press up against my slippery hole, and wet it up. “You wanna fuck this pussy? You wanna run ya dick raw up in this pussy?”
“Yeah, baby,” he moaned. “Let me feel that wet pussy on this dick.”
I pressed my lips down on his, and kissed him hard. I kept my eyes open, and waited for that moment—that window of opportunity—when he closed his. It came. And I pressed the silencer of my gun to his temple and pulled the trigger—Theessrrpp!—blowin’ a hole in his skull. The bullet ripped through the other side of his head, splatterin’ his brain all over the bed. Blood splashed on my face. I frowned. Then shot him again. Theeerrrssp!
“Next time, nigga, pack ya condoms,” I snapped, climbin’ offa him.
I went into his bathroom, grabbed a washcloth, then washed his blood off of me. I ran the water and wiped down e’erything, makin’ sure I didn’t leave any traces of blood or prints. Then I went into my bag and pulled out my cleanin’ supplies, and got busy. Once I was done, I got dressed, grabbed my bag, and quietly slipped back into my room without anyone seein’ me.
I called Cash, told him what was what, then stripped outta my wears and jumped in the shower. Twenty minutes later, I climbed into my hotel bed and fell into a deep sleep.
On the flight home the next mornin’, I closed my eyes as soon as I buckled up. I was glad I was sittin’ by the window so I wouldn’t have to be bothered with someone tryna get in the seat next to me, or tryna crawl over me to get to the bathroom. I hated that shit.
The minute we hit the ground at Newark Airport, I flipped open my cell and called Chanel to see if she wanted to go out to Short Hills to shop, then do lunch. The ho almost jumped through the damn phone when I told her I would not only buy her lunch, but treat her to a pair of heels as well.
“Bitch, you tryna make me fall in love with ya fine, sexy ass or somethin’?”
I laughed. “Ho, please. What I tell you ’bout that lesbo shit? Don’t get ya grill knocked.” The white dude sittin’ next to me looked over at me. And I looked right back at him, raisin’ my brow like, “What muhfucka? Say somethin’ and get ya pale face slapped.” He turned his face the other way.
“Oooh, ma, I love it when you talk rough,” she said, fallin’ out laughin’. “What time you comin’ through?”
“Yeah, I bet you do,” I said, laughin’ with her. “Annnywaaaay, freak, I’m still on the airplane waitin’ for them to open the damn doors so I can get up outta here. I got muhfuckas all up in my damn face, ear-hustlin’ ’n shit. I’ma go home, drop off this bag, and change my wears. I should be there to pick ya ho ass up ’round twelve-thirty or so.”
“Bet,” she said. We hung up. As soon as the plane door opened, e’eryone started scramblin’ like roaches to get their shit and get off the plane. And I was right along with ’em.
The minute I walked through my door, I took a deep sigh. I was so glad to be home. Although I was only gone overnight, for some reason I was exhausted as hell. I jumped in the shower, dressed, then made my way back out the door to pick up Chanel.
Four hours later, Chanel and I had just finished our shoppin’ spree, and now we were sittin’ in Legal Sea Foods havin’ lunch. We were loaded down with shoppin’ bags. Of course the bitch ended up gettin’ more than a pair of heels outta me. But it was all good.
“I love the food here,” Chanel said as she bit into her lobster roll.
“Yeah, it’s real cute,” I agreed, takin’ a sip of my drink. I covered my mouth and tried to stop from yawnin’. “Oh. Excuse me. I’m f-in’ beat.”
She yawned, coverin’ her mouth. “Aah, now you got me doin’ that shit. Divine’s ass kept me up wantin’ to talk and fuck all damn night. I swear I thought the nigga was skeed up the way he was actin’. It was like his ass was racin’ a mile a minute.”
I placed my elbows up on the table, and cupped my hands under my chin. “So, you think he’s gettin’ high or somethin’?”
She shook her head. “Nah, not at all. He was just bouncin’ around like the damn Energizer bunny ’n shit.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “That nigga tore my pussy hole up last night. And then he had the nerve to say he wanted to crack this asshole open.” I started laughin’. “That shit ain’t funny. I wish the hell I would let some nigga run his dick up in my ass. I told that nigga I got three holes, but only two of ’em are for dick use, and one of ’em ain’t my doo-doo hole.”
I laughed, but I was thinkin’ this ho needed to get with the program and make it do what it do. I noticed two white cats sittin’ on our left tryna ear hustle. And they had the nerve to both be fine, tanned, well-groomed, and very fuckable. And both of ’em were clearly enjoyin’ what they were hearin’. Yeah, them freaky muhfuckas sittin’ at their table with two hard cocks, I thought, starin’ at the one who was facin’ my direction. I raised my eyebrow. He smiled, then quickly shifted his eyes.
“Girl, I thought you was a certified freak with yours,” I said, makin’ sure my voice was low enough for only her to hear. We stopped talkin’ when the waitress came back to our table to see if we wanted anything else. “No, we’re fine.”
“I’ll be right back with your check,” she said, walkin’ off.
“Hmmph, that’s what Divine musta thought, too,” she said, takin’ a sip of her drink.
“Poor thing,” I said, shakin’ my head and laughin’. “Chanel, girl, you crack me the hell up.”
“Well, I’m glad you find this all so humorous.” She looked over at the white dude who was facin’ her. He was dead in her grill. “Can I help you?” she asked with much ’tude. I lowered my head, knowin’ she’d turn this spot out if he came at her wrong.
“I was just admiring you,” he said. “We were just saying how beautiful the two of you were.”
“Thank you,” I said, lookin’ over at ’em. Chanel grinned.
The waitress returned with our bill. I handed her my credit card. Chanel waited for her to walk off before leanin’ over toward them and whisperin’, “Ya’ll want some chocolate pussy, hunh?”
I almost fell outta my seat. Dude’s eyes popped open, and his face turned three shades red. His peoples almost choked on his drink.
“Oh my God, please don’t pay her no mind,” I said, shakin’ my head. “She’s on meds, and she gets nutty when she doesn’t take ’em. Girl, get up and let’s go before you get us tossed up outta here with ya mess.”
She winked at ’em, then stood up. “Kat, I’m goin’ to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
“And don’t take all day in there,” I said, watchin’ her switch off toward the bathrooms. When the waitress returned, I signed the bill, slid my credit card back into my wallet, and waited for Chanel to get back.
When she came back to the table, we started grabbin’ our bags to leave. She looked back over at the two dudes, and said, “Ya’ll gentlemen enjoy the rest of ya meal.”
They smiled, watchin’ as she switched her ass out the door. I couldn’t do shit but laugh. That bitch is crazy, I thought, followin’ behind her.