AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I suck my teeth. “Nigga, get real.”
Bitch, fuck all this back ’n forth shit. Tell da nigga ta cum rock ya box. “Whatchu doin’?”
“Chillin’. Why, wasssup? You tryna get into sumthin’?”
I take a deep breath. “Yeah, come fuck me.”
I hear the nigga chokin’ on the other end of the phone. “Hol’ up…what you just say?”
“Muhfucka, don’t play stupid, you heard me. Come. Fuck. Me.”
“Oh, shiiiit…now?”
“Yeah, now, nigga,” I huff, steppin’ outta the tub, then dryin’ myself off. “And you need’a hurry up ’fore I change my mind.”
“Nah, fuck that,” he says, soundin’ real amped. “Change ya mind hell. I’m on my way. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“Oh, and be clear. The offer expires if you’re not here in ’xactly twenty minutes.” I disconnect the call, swingin’ my naked hips into the bedroom to slip on sumthin’ sexy in case the nigga shows up before his time’s up. I go into my walk-in closet and open up my cedar chest filled wit’ toys. If he doesn’t, then I’ma have’ta take matters into my own hands, I think, pullin’ out my my vibratin’ Long Dong and Zing vibratin’ butt plug. Let the nigga not get here, I’ma slip this plug in my ass, then slide down on the dildo and put ’em both on high speed, then make this nut pop. Fightin’ them roaches today really got a bitch horny!
FOUR HOURS LATER, I WAKE UP WIT’ MY PANTIES DOWN ’ROUND my ankles and the scent of my sweet pussy dried up on my fingas. I get up, grabbin’ my toys and head to the bathroom to wash my hands and my lil’ fuck buddies, then strut back into the bedroom, dryin’ ’em off before puttin’ ’em back in my chest. I glance at the clock. It’s already eleven o’clock, and noooooo…Nut didn’t come through…okay, scratch that. The nigga didn’t get in. He pulled up late, so I let the nigga keep ringin’ the bell ’n blowin’ up my cell ’til he got the hint. You ain’t gettin’ no pussy; you ain’t gettin’ no brain. So take ya late ass on.
I scoop my cell up off’a da dresser, checkin’ my missed calls ’n text messages. There’s two missed calls and’a text from Alex; one missed call from Chanel; and three calls from a three-four seven area code. Right off the bat, I already know it’s from one’a my nutty-ass aunts. I text Alex back; tell the nigga next time to get his ass here on time, then retrieve my voice messages. There’s three.
“Bitch, I’ma fuck you up! You hear me, trick?! Don’t let me catch ya ass anywhere in Brooklyn, ho. Capiche? Don’t! I’ma bring it to ya muthafuckin’ face for puttin’ out a restrainin’ order on me and have me banned from da goddamn hospital…” Save.
I laugh. This bitch is outta muthafuckin’ control, but I promise you this. Let da bitch try ’n serve me again, and they gonna be dumpin’ ’er ass in a box next to ’er sista. And I mean that shit. I listen to the next message.
“Puta, que me de mi hermana. Tienes un asno ferina con su nombre para ello, está bien?” OhhhhhmiGaaawd, now this crazy bitch is poppin’ shit in Spanish talkin’ ’bout how she gotta ass whippin’ wit’ my name on it for keepin’ her from ’er sista. Bitch, puuuhleeeze! Save. The third message I don’t even listen to. I delete the shit.
Alex texts back. It’s all good. Pussy ain’t ever gonna be sumthin’ I can’t get.
I text back. Good for u, muhfucka!
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Bitches stay tryna talk slick…but they don’t really want it… junkie-ass tricks…gulpin’ a buncha dicks…eatin’ asses… smellin’ like shit…maggots stuck to them sheets…e’erytime bitches open they mouths…flies flyin’ outta they grills…but I ain’t pressed…a bitch’s ready to step outta da heels…and take it to da streets…
Three days later, I’m at Chanel’s spot in Brooklyn, like e’erything’s e’erything. She and I ’posed to be chillin’ ’n gettin’ lifted, then doin’ some shoppin’ today, but her fat-ass, big-faced cousin Peaches—who looks more like a muthafuckin’ pumkin than some goddamn peach—done tossed shit up in the game by showin’ up. So instead of Chanel’s ass tellin’ me she was expectin’ this bitch, before I drove all the way over here ’cause she knows I don’t like the ho, she waits ’til I walk through the door to mention the shit. Now I’m sittin’ here at the dinin’ room table—disgusted, lookin’ at this fat, Hungry-Jack bitch practically chew the ends off’a the goddamn blunt. And you know a bitch ain’t diggin’ this bitch wastin’ no smoke.
I glare at her. “Bitch, is you gonna smoke da shit, or eat it?” I shoot a look over at Chanel. “Bitch, where da fuck you find Fiona? Someone needs to teach her ass how’ta hit a blunt.”
Chanel bursts out laughin’ ’n chokin’ at the same time. “Ooooh, bitch, you wrong for that. Be nice.”
“‘Be nice’, hell.”
“Who da fuck is you callin’ Fiona, bitch?” Hungry Jack snaps.
“You, Booga,” I snap back, slidin’ my hand down into my Hermès bag in case she wants to bring it. I feel for my ice pick. See a big bitch gotta get gutted. Ain’t no time for puttin’ a razor to slice ’n dice a pork roll ho. You gotta poke her ass up. “Ya ass sittin’ here fuckin’ up good smoke wit’ ya bullshit. Who da fuck wanna be smokin’ behind some bitch wettin’ da shit up like it’s a dick. This shit ain’t no damn snack, ho.”
Chanel cracks the fuck up. “Bitch, you is dead wrong. Leave my fam alone.”
“Dead wrong, my ass. Next time, leave this Booga bitch outside where you found ’er.”
Hungry Jack gives me the finga. “Bitch, fuck you; you can suck my dick!”
I laugh. “Sweetie, you look like the kind
a chick wit’ them black, nasty fat burns between ya stumpy-ass legs, okay. And there ain’t’a ’nough smoke in this muthafuckin’ world to entice me to wanna eva get between them hamhocks to suck on ya lil’ piggy dick. So you can save that for them Chunky-Monkey bitches you roll wit’.”
