The whole summer was one big-ass blur to me. I couldn’t believe the shit had just ’bout come and gone and, in another three weeks, Labor Day was gonna be here. Chanel and I were already talkin’ ’bout maybe goin’ to either Puerto Rico or St. Lucia to chill that weekend. Of course she wanted to invite Tamia’s rotten ass, but I shut that shit down real quick. I told that ho I didn’t want that dirty bitch nowhere in my space.
“Kat, that’s fucked up,” she said. “We ’posed to be girls ’n shit.”
“Wrong answer,” I replied. “You my girl. That ho was a bitch I chilled with on the strength of you. Yeah, okay, at first I thought we were cool ’n shit. And I ain’t gonna front, I did try ’n embrace her and Iris…you know, show ’em mad love. But on some real shit, them bitches was always hatin’ on us from gate. And you know it. You and I both know them sluts were ridin’ on our styles to fit in. The only reason niggas was really fuckin’ with ’em is ’cause they some greedy, dick-lovin’, cum-guzzlin’ hoes. But I ain’t never judge they asses. I still fucked with ’em. But that was then, and this is now. And now, I’ma grown-ass woman tryna do grown-ass things. I ain’t beat for none of that dirty shit she’s into. That bitch can’t even be real with hers, so hell no, that bitch can’t roll no-muhfuckin’-where with me again!”
And there you have it. That was the end of that. And just like Iris’s dumb ass got got, I knew Tamia’s crusty ass was next. You don’t go ’round fuckin’ muhfukas when you know ya pussy is jacked, spreadin’ shit. I don’t give a fuck if a nigga ain’t tryna use a condom or not. Yeah, the nigga gets what he gets, but fuck that. Bitch, be real with yours; that’s all I’m sayin’. That shit is gonna eventually get ya ass beat, or a hole in ya skull. Whatever!
Anyway, so here it was a Friday night, and I was downstairs in the media room sittin’ Indian-style in the middle of the floor in my panties, with my titties dancin’ freely about, drinkin’ Henny and blazin’ trees in my own zone, mindin’ my own damn business, when somebody started pressin’ down on my doorbell like they had lost their f-in’ mind. I started to ignore the shit, but when they started bangin’ on my damn door, that did it. I got up and stomped up the stairs, then peeked outta the peephole. A bitch almost passed out. It was Juanita standin’ on the other side of the door, with one hand on her hip and the other bangin’ on my door. “Who the fuck is it?” I yelled, actin’ like I had no clue she was out there.
“Kat, open this damn door,” she slurred loudly. I could tell her mouth was still wired the way she sounded. It sounded like she had a dick stuck in her throat, or was talkin’ with a mouthful of marbles. “It’s your mother. You know. The one you don’t seem to remember havin’.”
I walked to the window to see who else was out there with her before I decided whether or not to let her ass in. I wasn’t in the mood for gettin’ jumped by her and my crazy-ass aunts. But I’d fight her ass one-on-one if I had to. I couldn’t see anyone else, but that didn’t mean they weren’t hidin’ in the bushes or still out in her car. I knew enough to know that it was unlikely for her ass to drive way out there solo.
“Hold on,” I said, goin’ to the hall closet to find somethin’ to put on. I pulled a navy-blue silk robe off one of the wooden hangers, then put it on. I tied the belt ’round my waist, then started toward the door. Unh-uh, this chick is a nut, I thought. Ain’t no tellin’ what she’s gonna do. I stopped in my tracks and turned back around and went into the kitchen. I dumped open my bag and grabbed what I needed along with my cordless phone, just in case. I walked back to the door and opened it. I kept the storm door locked and spoke to her through the glass. “Why you here?” I asked, frownin.’ I leaned up against the doorframe, with one hand on my hip and the other behind my back.
“Are you gonna let me in or not?” she asked, slammin’ her hands on both her hips. The right side of her face was still swollen, and her left eye had a patch over it. She was still tore-up so I knew she didn’t come to put work in.
“For what?”
“What do you mean ‘for what?’”
“Duh, just what I mean.”
“Kat, don’t be a bitch. Open ya damn door and let me in so we can talk.”
I stood there in the doorway and looked at the woman who gave birth to me, the woman who practically abandoned me for the men in her life, and I felt nothin’ for her. Not one damn thing. Not happiness. Not pity. Not sadness. Not contempt. Not a goddamn thing. I was empty toward her. And I realized that that emptiness was always there ’cause she never connected with me; she never embraced me long enough to fill my emotional cup. And it was fuckin’ empty. And I was left to fill it up on my own.
I shook my head. “No. You wanna talk, then you talk outside ’cause you not welcome in my home. Besides, as far as I’m concerned, we have nothin’ to talk about. I said all I’m gonna say to you the last time we spoke, and ain’t nothin’ changed.”
She frowned. “I thought it was real fucked up that you didn’t come to the hospital to see me. I’m still ya mother.”
“Umm, and that surprised you, because…?” I said, openin’ my hand and holdin’ my arm out, pausin’ for her to fill in the blanks. When she didn’t, I continued, “I told you I was done with you. And I meant that.”
Then outta nowhere, like I suspected, here comes Rosa talkin’ shit. She musta been sittin’ in the car, or squattin’ on the side of the house. She came rushin’ up to the door in a pair of faded blue jeans and a blue oversized 2006 Essence Festival shirt with a pair of crisp white Nikes. And the chick had her hair pulled back real tight into a ponty tail with it stuffed under her fitted baseball cap like she was prepared to put some work in.
“Fuck all this back ’n forth shit, Juanita. Tell her ass we need to talk and to open up this motherfuckin’ door,” she said, talkin’ with her hands, pointin’ at me through the door. She stared at me. “Kat, open up this fuckin’ door, or bring ya fresh ass outside so we can air it out. All that slick shit on the phone ain’t forgotten, sweetie. I told you, I’ma put my foot in ya ass.”
I laughed. “Oh, really? Well, I tell you what. Try it if you want. But what the both of you had better do is get the fuck up off my property.”
“You fresh-ass bitch,” Rosa screamed, slammin’ her hand against the glass. “We ain’t goin’ no fuckin’ where until I beat ya ass for disrespectin’ ya mother, and me.”
“What the fuck you think I look like, lettin’ the two of you up in my spot? You think I’ma let ya’ll up in here so you can try ’n toss my spot up. I don’t think so.” Then it hit me that maybe I should let ’em in. I mean, that way, when they got at me and I had to put a bullet in one of ’em, I could say they attacked me in my home and I was protectin’ myself. Nah, fuck that! Them crazy bitches wasn’t gettin’ in.
Rosa kicked the bottom of the door. “Bring ya ass outside, then. ’Cause I’ma fuck you up, Kat. You came for the wrong bitch, sweetie.”
“Rosa,” my moms said through her clenched teeth. “Don’t make a scene out here. I didn’t drive all the way over here to get arrested. This ain’t the projects.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” Rosa replied loudly. “This bitch is too goddamn grown, Juanita. And it’s time she gets her face cracked in. Kat, you got an ass whoopin’ comin’ so you might as well come outside and get it now while it’s hot. And if I gotta stand out this bitch all motherfuckin’ night, then that’s what it is.” She grabbed the door handle and started yankin’ on it. “Bring ya ass outside, you fuckin’ disrespectful bitch. You got me confused. I ain’t ya Aunt Patrice. When I get my hands on you, you gonna wish ya ass was dead.”
“Oh, really,” I said, pullin’ my nickel-plated 9mm from behind my back. Both of their eyes popped wide open in shock.
“Oh, my God,” my moms said through clenched lips, slappin’ her hand over her mouth.
Rosa let go of the door. “You’d pull a gun out on your own fuckin’ mother? I done seen it all now,” Rosa said, flingin’ her hands up in the air. “Dios mios! I don’t fuckin’ believe this shit.”
“I sure would. So believe it. And I’ll fuckin’ use it, too. Try me. Now both of you bitches get the fuck up off my property or you’ll be leavin’ up outta here in either handcuffs or body bags, take ya pick.” Although I would never call five-oh on my own family—I don’t care how serious shit got—I hoped one of the nosey-ass neighbors would. And I really didn’t wanna put a bullet in either one of ’em, but I knew in my heart I would if they pressed me.
The porch light to the house on the left came on, then the lights to the house on the other side flicked on. My moms looked around. “Let’s go, Rosa,” she said, grabbin’ Rosa by the arm.
She snatched her arm back. “No, Nita, your child needs a beat down first.”
“I ain’t a fuckin’ child,” I snapped. “I’m a grown-ass woman. Get it right.”
“I knew this was a bad idea,” my moms said. “I told you she wasn’t gonna let us in.”
“Then maybe you shoulda came by yourself,” I said, keepin’ my aim at them.
“And would that have made any difference?” she asked, starin’ me in the eyes.
“Hell no,” I said. “’Cause I want nothin’ to do with you.” For the first time in my life, I thought I saw hurt in her eyes. But that shit didn’t matter. What about all the times she hurt me? Fuck her! The truth is what it is. “Um, I think you betta get goin’ ’cause the cops are on their way. And since neither of you are invited here, it’s called trespassin’. Now, like I said before, get the fuck off my property.” I slammed the door in their faces.
I heard glass smash and knew Rosa punched or kicked, or threw somethin’ at, the storm door. It took e’erything in me not to run outside and jump on that bitch’s back, but I knew she’d have her razor spit out in her hand and would have me sliced from one end to the next before I knew what hit me. I already knew goin’ out there meant I’d have to straight-up blast her head off. “Crazy bitch,” I heard her yell. “The minute you step ’cross the bridge, bitch, I’ma see ya ass. I put that on ya grandfather’s grave. Nita, I don’t know where the fuck you got her from, but that bitch takes the grand prize for crazy. Can you believe she pulled a gun on us? A fuckin’ gun! Oh, my God, wait ’til I tell everyone this shit!”
Rosa’s nutty ass screamed at the top of her lungs all the way back to my mom’s Benz. I flipped open my cell and called Chanel, watchin’ them pull off outta the livin’ room window.
“Hey, ho, what’s good?”
“You not gonna fuckin’ believe who came up over here tryna set shit off?”
“Who?” she asked, gettin’ amped.
“My fuckin’ moms and her nutty-ass sister, Rosa.”
“Unh-uh, say it ain’t so. I know you didn’t let them in, did you?”
“Hell no, I didn’t let them nuts in. I spoke to them hoes through the glass door; are you fuckin’ kiddin’? I already knew what time it was. Please. They wasn’t gettin’ up in here fuckin’ up my shit.”
“So what happened?” she asked. I took a deep breath, then broke the story down to her from beginnin’ to end. “Oh, my God, bitch, I can’t believe you pulled a gun out on ’em. That shit is crazy.”
“Well, believe it. I was gonna put some heat in that ass before they got up in here tryna serve me. Fuck that.” I paused, openin’ the front door. There was glass shattered all down between the doors. “This fuckin’ bitch done kicked the glass outta my door, retarded ho,” I said, slammin’ the door shut. “Anyway, I don’t think my moms was really tryna bring it, but Rosa’s ass was ready to serve it for real, for real. You shoulda seen her ass foamin’ at the mouth ’n shit, lookin’ like Cujo. I was too through with them bitches, comin’ here tryna fuck up my high.”
She started laughin’. “Kat, ya crazy ass is going straight to hell. You do know that, right?”
“Well, there’ll be a bunch of us down there then, ’cause I ain’t the fuckin’ one. I mean, on some real shit, I really didn’t wanna haveta shoot my moms, or Rosa. But if push came to shove, they’d both get bodied. And I make no apologies for that. I was here mindin’ my own fuckin’ business. Them bitches came here—uninvited, mind you—tryna disrupt my groove. And my moms already knows Rosa’s MO. She wanted to see that bitch bring it to me since her ass is still all broke up ’n shit. So, they both woulda caught a bullet.”
“Humph. That shit is crazy, for real.”
“Girl, trust, this shit was way over the top for even me. I mean, really. What the fuck made them think I was gonna let ’em up in here with open arms?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” she said, snappin’ her fingas. “Oh, shit, girl, you not gonna believe this. Guess whose dumb ass done got arrested for stealin’ prescription pads from her job?”
“I bet it was Tameka’s porch-monkey ass,” I said.
“Yep,” she said, laughin’. “They came and snatched that ass up the other day. Now she’s sittin’ on Rikers, stressin’ the fuck out ’cause ain’t nobody tryna bail her ass out.”
“That’s what that baldheaded bitch gets for runnin’ her fuckin’ mouth. I’ma still see her ass, though.”
“Well, you might have a long wait. ’Cause this mess with her stealin’ prescription pads and shit has been goin’ on for a minute. They were writin’ all types of prescriptions, then sellin’ them shits and whatnot. That ho may be goin’ up the river. These two other chicks were down with her, and they done put the shit all on her ass.”
I laughed. “And that’s exactly why I do my dirt solo.”
“I hear you, girl. So, what’s good for tonight?” she asked, changin’ the subject. “You feel like rollin’ out somewhere? There’s this party at Mars 2112 tonight. And it should be packed with a lotta shakers ’n movers and big-dick ballers.”
I rolled my eyes and sucked my teeth, glancin’ at the clock. It was almost nine o’clock. I really didn’t feel like goin’ out, but it had been a minute since we dropped ’n popped. “What time ya ho ass wanna roll?”
“I’m ready when you are. All I gotta do is slip on my wears. I showered already, but you need to hurry up and scoop me before Divine comes up in here tryna get some pussy ’cause you know the nigga don’t like me leavin’ up outta here without him wettin’ his dick up first.”
“Awww, poor thing,” I said, laughin’. “I’ll be there to save you and your pussy in forty minutes.”
“Please hurry,” she said, laughin’ with me. “The nigga done already texted me, talkin’ ’bout he’s gonna be home in like an hour. So make sure you get ya ass here before then.”
“Aiight, trick. I’ll see you shortly.”
By the time me and Chanel got to Times Square, found parkin’, and walked up to the line to get into the club, it was already eleven-thirty. We had smoked a blunt apiece on the ride over and we were both feelin’ right. Chanel was lookin’ all chic and whatnot in a fly-ass white-and-black print jersey dress that hung off the shoulders, and she rocked a pair of six-inch black strappy sandals with an oversized white Chanel bag. And I kept it cute—of course—in a black, red, and pink abstract dress with a draped front and bubble hem with a twisted cut-out racerback. And of course I had to serve them hoes my Jimmy Choo patent leather Riki Ring bag, and a bangin’-ass pair of Versace Mirror stilettos.
Chanel knew damn well I wasn’t for standin’ in no long-ass lines, and before I could open my mouth to say somethin’ to her, my cell started ringin’. I looked at the number and flipped the phone open. “Hey,” I said, followin’ behind Chanel.
“What’s good, baby?”
“You,” I said.
“That’s what it is. What you gettin’ into tonight?”
“Me and Chanel are in the city gettin’ ready to go up into this club.”
“Oh word, which one?”
“Mars 2112.”
“Oh, shit. That’s where me and my mans are on our way to.”
I laughed. “Yeah right, nigga.”
“Nah, baby, real talk. Matter of fact, I’m rollin’ through midtown now.” He started laughin’. “Yeah, I bet you thought you was gonna be bouncin’ that ass up on them niggas tonight. Well, baby, big daddy’s comin’ through and I’m ’bout to shut shit down.”
“Oh, puhleeeze,” I said, grinnin’. “Ya ass tryna stalk me ’n shit.”
“Yeah, aiight, if you say so. You make sure you got ya pretty ass somewhere where I can get at you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said, laughin’.
I spotted Chanel walkin’ toward me. “Bitch, will you come on,” she said, wavin’ me forward. She apparently knew someone who got us in without havin’ to play that long-ass line.
I sighed. “I gotta go,” I said, followin’ behind Chanel, “so hit me up when you get in.”
“You already know,” he said. “I’ll get at you in a minute.” And that’s exactly what he did. We were up in the VIP section all night poppin’ bottles and gettin’ our throats wet lovely. Grant let me do me, but outta respect, I kept it cute. I let the nigga hug and kiss up on me, and I only danced with a few cats, but mostly danced with him. By the end of the night, I was lit and ready to go home and roll up on top of a hard dick. But of course, Grant had to take his mans back to wherever he had to be, and Chanel was gonna crash at my spot so that cancelled that out.
I had my arms folded ’cross my chest and my lip poked out like I was poutin’ as we were walkin’ outta the club. It was goin’ on three-thirty in the mornin’. Grant and I stood outside waitin’ for his peoples and Chanel’s dick-hungry ass.
“Yo,” he said, grabbin’ me by the waist and pullin’ me into him, “cut that shit out. You know what it is. I’ma see you later today. You make sure you take ya ass straight home.”
I rolled my eyes, grinnin’. “Whatever, nigga.”
He kissed me on the lips. “Yo, you know you got my dick hard, right?”
Chanel called me on my cell. “Bitch, where the fuck you at?” I asked, lookin’ around for her.
“I’m on my way out now. I couldn’t get to the bathroom without some nigga tryna get all up in my ear.”
I sucked my teeth. “Bring ya ass on.” I hung up when I spotted her comin’ outta the door.
“So, I’ma see ya tomorrow, aiight,” Grant said as Chanel was approachin’ us.
“Yeah,” I said.
Chanel walked up and spoke to him. “Hey, Grant.”
“What’s good, Chanel?”
“Not a thing,” she said, smilin.’ She looked over at me. “So, Grant…tell me. When you gonna bag this chick here?” she asked, flickin’ her thumb over at me. “I told you her wild ass needs a nigga like you to tame her.”
He laughed. “I don’t know. You gotta ask her that. She act like she all scared ’n shit.”
“Oh, please,” I said. “Scared of what? And don’t ya’ll be talkin’ like I ain’t standin’ here.”
He smiled, lookin’ down at his crotch. “You know what it is.”
“Oh, whatever,” I said, laughin’. “Don’t gas ya’self.”
Chanel chimed in, “You know she likes to get beat, right?”
“Oh, word?”
“Nigga, believe that shit if you want. Chanel’s drunk ass’ll have you catchin’ a bullet.”
“Oh, shit, you’d really shoot me, huh?” he asked, laughin’.
“Yep,” I said. “Right after I finished wettin’ ya dick up.” Chanel and Grant started laughin’ like they thought that was the funniest shit they heard all night. Humph. Little did they know, I was laughin’ with ’em, but I was dead-ass.
“Yo, baby,” he said, pullin’ me into him. “You funny as hell.” He kissed me again. “You ain’t ever gotta worry ’bout me puttin’ my hands on you; I ain’t with that shit.” He leaned into my ear, and whispered, “But I will spank that ass with this dick.”
“Yeah, we’ll see,” I said, laughin’. “Chanel, let’s get outta here.”
He peeped his boy talkin’ to some chick. “Yo, nigga, will you come on.”
“Hold up, give me a minute,” dude said, flippin’ open his cell and handin’ it to the chick so she could put her number in. I ain’t gonna front, the nigga was fine; not as fine as Grant, but he could still get it.
Grant shook his head. “This nigga. Check it, meet me at the ride. I’ma walk my peoples to her ride.” Dude nodded his head. Grant wrapped his arm ’round me while Chanel walked a few steps in back of us. Her cell rang.
“Hello?” we heard her say. “Nigga, where the hell you think I’m at?” I grinned, knowin’ it was Divine. “I told you I was goin’ out with Kat…Yes, I did…Whatever…No, I’m stayin’ the night…Yes…No, Divine…I’ma be home sometime in the afternoon…Whatever, Divine…okay, aiight. I heard you…” She hung up. “Ugh, that nigga makes me sick.”
I craned my neck, glancin’ at her over my shoulder. “Yeah, right,” I said. “You love that nigga.”
“Whatever,” she said, suckin’ her teeth. “You worry ’bout gettin’ some love in your life.”
“Yo,” Grant said, smilin’. “I’ma take care of that.”
“Please do,” Chanel said.
When we got to the parkin’ garage, I unlocked the door for Chanel. Grant waited for her to get in, then pulled me into him, squeezin’ my ass and kissin’ me.
“Yo, make sure you take ya ass straight home,” he said, kissin’ me again. “I don’t wanna haveta fuck nobody up.”
“Whatever,” I said. “You make sure you take ya ass home.”
“You got that,” he said, kissin’ me again. He opened the car door for me and waited for me to get behind the wheel. He looked over at Chanel and was gettin’ ready to speak, but her ass was already knocked out. “Get home safe.”
“You, too,” I said, startin’ the engine, then backin’ out. I tapped the horn as I drove by, then made my way back to Jersey with thoughts of Grant comin’ through later on in the day. Yeah, this nigga was tryna have a bitch fall for ’im. I just hoped he was ready, ’cause I was tryna play for keeps. I took a deep breath, turned on the CD player, and listened to Aretha Franklin sing “The Tree of Life.” And for some reason, after hearin’ the verse It’s too late to cry…There ain’t gonna be no next time… I felt my chest tighten and an achin’ in my heart. I clutched my chest and choked back tears as I headed toward the Holland Tunnel.
Erykah Badu’s “Bag Lady” was playin’ in the background and Grant and I had just finished blazin’ our third blunt. He had come through earlier in the afternoon, like he said he would. And after diggin’ my back out lovely, we were loungin’ ’round chillin’. I couldn’t front, things between us were really startin’ to feel right ’n shit. But I didn’t wanna jinx shit by gettin’ all excited too quick. I was tryna play it cool and keep shit cute. I was really diggin’ his ass. But the nigga wasn’t my man, and I wasn’t sure if that’s what I really wanted. A part of me did, but then there was that part of me that was scared. Not of him, but of what I’d do if he turned out to be another nigga tryna play me. I really think a bitch would go postal for real. The nigga’s dick game was so damn tight that I knew, without a doubt, that I could really get caught in him. And that shit had a bitch on edge; almost nervous. I’m not sure if it was my heart, my head, or my pussy talkin’, but whichever it was, I knew if I gave in to the feelin’s that were slowly startin’ to stir inside of me and the nigga turned out to be on some other shit, it wouldn’t be a pretty sight. My gut told me he was a good man, but what I couldn’t figure out was if the nigga was a cheatin’ man.
Anyway, as long as we kept shit the way it was, there was no stress and no pressure. I played my position, and allowed him to play his. If the nigga was fuckin’ someone else, then so be it. He wasn’t my man. So he could slay whoever he wanted. I wasn’t beat ’cause I didn’t see or hear ’bout it. He claimed he was just servin’ me the dick, but I had heard that shit before so it didn’t really hold much weight with me. Although I didn’t have a reason not to trust him, I still kept my eyes and ears open for any signs of him tryna get slick. So far, there were none. But I was gonna give it more time. Most niggas showed they asses within the first three to six months. So I was gonna see how shit played out. But on some real shit, who was I to feel some kinda way ’bout him slayin’ another bitch’s pussy when I was still waxin’ the muhfuckas I was murkin’. I ain’t gonna front, I was really startin’ to fall for the nigga, and I could tell the nigga was diggin’ me, too. But like I said, I didn’t really wanna rush into nothin’. I was cool with how things were flowin’ with us, and I didn’t really wanna complicate shit; not yet anyway.
“So you still not lookin’ for a man?” he asked, leanin’ over and kissin’ me lightly on the lips.
“Not today,” I said, grinnin’. “Check back tomorrow.”
“Yeah, aiight.” He grinned back, pullin’ me into his arms. He slid his tongue in my mouth. Damn, the nigga’s tongue game was right. My pussy started gettin’ wet. “Keep playin’ with me.” He kissed me a few more times, then pulled away. “Dig, one of my mans is gettin’ married at the end of the month and I want you on my arm.”
I smiled. “So you ready to show me off to ya peeps now, hunh?”
“No doubt,” he said, leanin’ over and peckin’ me on the lips again. “You my baby; fuck all that shit you be talkin’ ’bout you ain’t ready for a man ’n shit.”
“I wanna take it slow.”
“I hear you,” he said, rubbin’ the side of my face. “There’s no rush, baby. Big daddy got all the time ya pretty ass needs.”
I smiled. “You sure ’bout that?”
“No doubt, baby.”
“Well, I’d be honored to be on ya arm to let them hoes know what a real dime looks like.”
He laughed. “That’s what it is. His bachelor’s party is this weekend so I’ma be outta town with my boys.”
“Hmmm. When you leavin’?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Oh, okay. You make sure you don’t be lettin’ none of them stripper hoes wet ya dick,” I said, actin’ like I was really pressed.
“Nah, baby. The only one I want wettin’ this dick is you, real talk. You make sure you keep these niggas out here outta ya grill while I’m gone.”
“Oh, please. I ain’t thinkin’ ’bout none of them whack-ass niggas.”
“Yeah, aiight. Don’t have me hurtin’ nobody.”
“It’s all good,” I said, shiftin’ my body to face him. “I gotta go outta town overnight anyway.”
“Damn,” he said, eyein’ me. “You do a lotta dippin’. On some real shit, you need to let me know now what’s really good with you.”
I raised my brow. “What ya mean?”
“I’m sayin’. If you fuckin’ some other nigga, you need to let me know so I can fall back.” Oh my God, I thought, this nigga got the nerve to be soundin’ all jealous.
“Nigga, please. I ain’t fuckin’ with no one else,” I lied, rollin’ my eyes. Well, technically, I wasn’t fuckin’ with any other muhfuckas, so I wasn’t really lyin’, right? Besides a dead nigga really didn’t count; well, that’s what I kept tellin’ myself.
He pulled me into him, then slid his tongue into my mouth. We kissed long and slow for a few minutes. He ran his hands along my back, over my hips, then grabbed my ass, starin’ into my eyes. The way he was lookin’ at me, I could tell he had somethin’ on his mind.
“Why you lookin’ at me like that?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“What?”
“Nah, it’s nothin’.”
Now, I started to leave it alone. And if someone asked me why I even pushed the shit, I couldn’t tell you. I guess ’cause I dug the nigga and I really did wanna know what he was thinkin’. So I pushed the issue.
“’C’mon, don’t try ’n play me for slow,” I said, grabbin’ at his dick. Mmmph. His dick was nice ’n thick, and slowly growin’. “I can tell you got somethin’ on ya mind, so share.” I held my breath, already knowin’ where this was gonna go.
“I’m tryna figure you out,” he stated, “that’s all.”
“And what are you tryna figure out?” I asked, bracin’ myself.
“I’ve asked you several times how you made ya paper, and I still haven’t gotten a real answer…any answer, for that matter.” He sighed, sittin’ up on his forearm, lookin’ up. Now, in my head, I’m thinkin’, You need to curse this nigga out real quick for tryna clock ya flow. You don’t ask him how he’s collectin’ his dough so he don’t need to be askin’ you shit ’bout how you movin’. I had to bite down on my tongue to keep from comin’ at him real slick. He pulled me into his arms. “Listen…I’m diggin’ you. And I’m tryna make shit happen with you, but I need to know what’s really good with you. You say you ain’t fuckin’ any other muhfuckas, but you always jettin’ off somewhere. Please tell me you ain’t pushin’ weight for some nigga or somethin’.”
I twisted my lips up. “Are you fuckin’ serious? A bitch like me would never play herself and be some nigga’s mule. I ain’t that bitch.”
“Okay, so how you livin’, then? You stay dipped ’n shit in all the ill flavors, you pushin’ hot whips, and ya spot is tight. Not that I’m tryna get in ya pockets or anything. I’m just tryna see where ya head is at; how you gettin’ ya hustle on.”
“I’m a consultant,” I told him, hopin’ that would keep him satisfied. The lie rolled off my tongue and outta my mouth so quick, I didn’t have a chance to think it all the way through. A consultant! What the fuck?! I thought to myself, regrettin’ I even said that shit. I decided to add a little extra. “And my moms came into some money and laced me ’bout two years ago so I was able to make some things happen.”
“Hmm,” he said, eyein’ me. I could tell the nigga wasn’t buyin’ it. But he let it go—for the moment, anyway. “When you leavin’?”
“Tomorrow,” I said.
“And when you comin’ back?”
I didn’t know what the fuck was up with all the damn questions, but I answered anyway. “Late tomorrow night.”
He frowned. “And what type of consultin’ you do again?”
I put muhfuckas outta they misery. But of course I couldn’t tell his ass what I was thinkin’. Hell, I couldn’t really tell him much of anything. I mean, on some real shit, how do you tell a nigga you tryna be fly with that you fuckin’ niggas, then blowin’ they brains out at point-blank range? That with a kiss on a nigga’s lips and sweet whispers in his ear, you’ll shoot him between the eyes while straddled on top of him, slammin’ down on his dick? I mean, really. That’ll fuck a nigga’s head up; have him thinkin’ ya ass is nuts or you some borderline psycho bitch. Fuck, I thought, takin’ a deep breath, tryna figure out what I was gonna say to keep his ass from tryna sniff out more than what he needed to know. I shoulda knew this nigga wasn’t gonna just let this shit go. I tried to think fast, but came up blank. So, a bitch did the next best thing. I pressed my lips against his, slid my tongue into his mouth, then grabbed at his dick. At first he sat there like he was in a trance, but I kept massagin’ his dick and kissin’ him. Slowly, his hands started roamin’ all over my body. He started squeezin’ my titties and pushin’ himself up into me as I ground my ass onto his dick. I slowly sucked on his earlobe, lickin’ ’round the edges, then dartin’ my tongue in and out of his ear. Yeah, he knew I was tryna changin’ the subject and it was workin’. I was smart enough to know that this wasn’t gonna stop him from askin’ me again how I stacked my paper but, for the moment, it was gonna keep him from askin’ me anythin’ else until I could figure out what I was gonna tell ’im. On some real shit, I knew there was no way I was gonna be able to dip outta town the way I do if I was gonna fuck with his ass on some serious-type shit without problems. Oh, well…I’d cross that bridge when I got to it. In the meantime, I’d keep it cute, and give him the bare minimum.
I whispered in his ear, “I wanna suck all over ya thick, black dick.”
He lowered his voice. “Oh, word?”
I nodded, kissin’ him on his lips and neck, then slitherin’ my way down his body in between his legs, reachin’ for his dick. “Can I suck daddy’s big dick?” I asked, as if I was beggin’ for it. I slowly licked my lips, pullin’ his dick outta the slit of his boxers. I flicked my tongue across the head. “Oh, I need daddy’s dick real bad.” He lifted his arms up, then locked his fingers together, placing them under his head, spreadin’ his legs wider apart. He lifted his hips and allowed me to remove his underwear all the way down to his ankles. His dick was brick. “Oh, yes,” I said, grabbin’ his dick at the base, lickin’ the drool from the corners of my lips. “Look at all this big dick. Mmm…you got a pretty dick.”
“Yeah, you love that dick, don’t you?”
“Mmm-hmm,” I moaned, kissin’ the tip of his dick. “I”—kiss—“love”—kiss—“it.”
He let out a soft moan as I nibbled and licked on his balls, then slid my tongue along the back of his dick. I slid my lips up and down it, from his balls back up to the tip of his dick, wettin’ it up real nice, glidin’ my tongue all over it. He moaned again. I smiled and wrapped my lips around the head of his cock, and slowly gulped it down one inch at a time until I had his entire dick down in my throat. “Oh, shit, baby,” he groaned. “You tryna fuck a nigga’s head up.”
I increased the suction and neck bobbin’, while massagin’ and squeezin’ his balls. He grabbed the sides of my head, slowly pumped his hips, then face-fucked me until he shot his thick, creamy load down into my throat. Humph. There was nothin’ like lickin’ and suckin’ the nut outta a thick cock. Although I swallowed most of it, some still overflowed outta my mouth and dripped along the sides of his dick and down onto his balls. But a cum-hungry bitch like me never wastes a drop. I licked and slurped all around his balls and dick, then took him back into my mouth and sucked the remainin’ drops of his nut until his body shook, and his eyes rolled up in his head. And for the rest of the night, I wet his dick and kept him fucked down to the bone, hopin’ he wouldn’t press me for answers I was never gonna be ready to give.