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CHAPTER FIVE
Gotta nigga wantin’ to stroke me wit’ his dick…wantin’ to feel this pussy heat on his face…beggin’ me to drop down on them lips…roll my hips…squeeze his head wit’ my thighs… nigga wantin’ me to nut in his mouth…yeah, muhfucka… let’a bitch coat ya tongue wit’ dis waterfall…open wide, muhfucka…close ya eyes…here comes ya surprise…
My ringin’ cell wakes a bitch up outta a deep-ass sleep. I peep the screen, shakin’ my head. The word Nut lights up on the screen. It’s my nickname for this nigga Alley Cat I met a while back. “Yeah, whaaaat?” I answer wit’ ’tude, glancin’ at the clock over on the nightstand. It’s eleven o’clock in the mornin’ I stretch. Can’t believe I’ve slept most of the day away.
“Yo, wassup, ma? How you?”
“Aggravated that you still callin’ me. How can I help you?”
He laughs. “Yeah, aiiight. Front if you want, but check this out, beautiful. I’ma keep callin’ ya sexy ass ’til you stop playin’ games wit’ a muhfucka.”
“Who said I’m playin’ wit’ you?”
“Nah, ma, I ain’t say nuthin’ ’bout you playin’ wit’ me. I said you playin’ games, big difference. If you were playin’ wit’ me ya hands ’n mouth would be full wit’ a buncha dick, feel me?”
“No, I ain’t feelin’ you,” I state, sittin’ up.
“Not yet, you ain’t. But you will be; real talk.”
This cocky muhfucka makes me sick. I hold back a grin, though. No matter how much ’tude I serve this nigga, he stay tryna fuck me. That’s the problem. This muhfucka ain’t used to a bitch turnin’ his ass down. He’s the kinda nigga used to bitches droppin’ they drawers whenever he wants. Well, he might be lookin’ for a fast piece’a ass, but the nigga ain’t gonna get it here unless it’s on my terms. Hmmph. If you ask me, I think the nigga’s borderline crazy. ’Cause if a bitch was always comin’ at me sideways ’n all reckless and whatnot I’d be tellin’ that ho to eat shit, then be out.
But this nigga right here won’t let up. Even when the nigga stood in front of me and blocked my way in the mall down in Phoenix, I thought he was a damn nut. Fine, yes. But, a damn problem, for sure! On some real shit, I wasn’t gonna give the nigga the time’a day if Chanel’s dumb ass wasn’t all up in the mix eggin’ me to give the nigga sum air play.
Earlier that day, he was tryna holla as me and Chanel were walkin’ outta the hotel we were stayin’ in. But we paid the nigga dust. Most niggas just leave it alone, but this muhfucka got up and came up on us like he was really pressed tryna push the issue. Chanel’s simple-ass entertained ’im, but I kept it movin’. See, I had already peeped the nigga the day before at the All-Star Jam Session chillin’ wit’ a buncha niggas.
Then I saw ’im later on that night down in the lobby. And, yes, the nigga was fuckable. And, yes, the nigga was dipped ’n blingin’. But he was sooooo fuckin’ arrogant, too! I knew the minute he opened his mouth that he was used to bitches sweatin’ his ass and droppin’ down ’n wettin’ his dick up at his beck ’n call. And I know it fucks wit’ ’im that I ain’t that kinda chick.
I ain’t gonna front. When the nigga walked up on me and Chanel at the mall, I tried to act like I wasn’t beat, but the muhfucka had this kinda confidence that was mad sexy; still, a bitch knows when a muhfucka ain’t up to no good. And my gut told me that this nigga right here, mmmph…is a walkin’ magnet for drama. But when he stepped up in my space, I kept it cute and gave ’im some rhythm—just a taste, for a hot minute. I had’a laugh when he said I was actin’ like he was the muhfucka who had broke my heart. But I quickly checked his ass and let ’im know I ain’t the one to let a nigga break shit on me. Little did he know, a bitch was still mournin’ the loss of good dick. Shit, I went from gettin’ this pussy beat up on’a regular to not gettin’ it at all. It had been a minute since I was gettin’ served by some dick that wasn’t attached to a bullet. Then just like that, it was over. So, my ’tude had nuthin’ to do wit’ bein’ evil. It was ’bout a bitch grievin’ ’n needin’ a good dickin’.
Annnywaaaayz, for the last year or so, the nigga’s been hittin’ me up on some let’s chill-type shit, and I still ain’t rocked wit’ ’em. And he still ain’t lettin’ it go. The shit cracks me up.
“Whaaa teva,” I tell ’im, gettin’ outta bed. My stomach starts growlin’, remindin’ me that the only thing I had today was that damn blunt. Ohmigod, a bitch could eat three dicks and still have room for a nut or two. That’s how hungry I am.
I go downstairs to fix sumthin’ to eat. “What, you bored? None’a ya lil’ hoes ’round for you to play wit’?” I ask, openin’ up the ’fridge. I pull out the carton of eggs, some cheddar cheese, and a green pepper. I decide to fix an omelet.
“Nah, beautiful, never that. I can always find me a broad to get at. But, that’s not what I want.”
I pull out a skillet. “Oh, really? So, what you want?”
“Yo, I’ma keep it gee wit’ you, aiight?”
“Oh, please do.”
“I want some pussy, straight up. And I wanna fuck.”
I laugh, choppin’ the green pepper, then peelin’ an onion. “Nigga you talkin’ like ya nasty ass ain’t already gettin’ it in. I know betta.”
He laughs. “Yeah, my dick stays wet. But I’m tryna get up in some new pussy.”
“Nigga you ain’t even smooth wit’ ya shit. You straight raw wit’ it. No kinda finesse. Ain’t no classy bitch feelin’ that. Save that shit for them boogas.”
He laughs. “Check this shit out, ma. I’ma grown-ass man. I ain’t got time to be bullshittin’ on da pussy.”
“Well, that shit might work wit’ them bottom of the barrel bitches, but it ain’t workin’ for me.”
He keeps laughin’. “Bottom of da barrel, top of da barrel, it don’t matter. As long as da pussy’s bangin’ ’n I can fuck ’em over da barrel, it’s all gravy.”
I shred my cheese. “Well, I ain’t lookin’ to fuck.” I crack two eggs. Then beat all the ingredients while the pan heats up. Then I pour e’erything in.
