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“Don’t be. She was already dead a long time ago.”
He strokes my hair. “Drugs?”
I shake my head, sighin’. “No-good niggas.” I’m relieved he doesn’t ask me to elaborate. He keeps strokin’ my hair. And it relaxes me. Bitch, keep it cute. Cut this nigga off now ’fore ya ass gets too caught up in his shit.
He holds me tighter, kisses me on the side of my head. The nigga is showin’ me the kinda affection a bitch craves. I swallow back emotions I ain’t tryna deal wit’. I lift my head from off’a his chest. Stare at ’im. He smiles. “Wassup, ma? You good?”
“Why you insist on fuckin’ wit’ me?”
“I ain’t tryna fuck wit’ you. I dig you; real talk.”
“How many otha bitches you diggin’? And keep shit a hunnid.”
“At this moment…only you.”
I smirk, rollin’ my eyes up in my head. “Yeah, right. Tell me anything.”
“Nah, true story. You got my full attention”—he grabs his hard dick—“and as you can see in more ways than one.” I suck my teeth, playfully swattin’ at ’im. I can’t front, a bitch’s feelin’ real comfortable wit’ this muhfucka. “I’m dead-ass. You got me wide open, baby. I’ve fucked wit’ mad bitches and plenty of ’em been bad as fuck. But there was always sumthin’ missin’.”
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
“You.”
I blink, blink again. Surprised by this nigga’s answer. Don’t let this muhfucka gee you, ho. This nigga’s a master manipulator.
Ho, get ova ya’self. Let da nigga live. E’eryone has a past. You of all people should know this. “How ’bout you tell me ’bout all’a these hoes you been dickin’.”
“All of ’em?”
“Yeah…all of ’em from da last five years to now. You can start wit’ da most recent, then work ya way backward.” He laughs. I don’t.
“Damn, aiight.” He glances at the clock. It’s almost eleven at night. “Yo, we better blaze a fatty for this.” I laugh as he slips outta bed. Watch his naked, muscular body go ’cross the room. He takes a blunt from off the dresser, then sparks it. I sit up in bed, starin’ at his swingin’ dick as he comes back to bed. He lays ’cross it, takes two deep pulls, then passes it to me. “Da only reason I’m gonna spit shit raw to you is ’cause like I said, I’m big on you, so I’ma tell you shit I ain’t ever told anyone else.”
As we pass the blunt back ’n forth, he starts off tellin’ me how he got the name Daddy Long Stroke; tells me ’bout his days as a stripper, then starts rattlin’ off’a buncha states he’s had hoes in. And the ones he still does, fourteen. Fourteen?! Ohmiiiiigod this nigga is a travelin’ whore. He tells me e’ery way he’s fucked ’em; tells me ’bout the threesomes and trains he’s got down on; how bitches have paid for the dick; how they lace ’im wit’ wears ’n jewelry ’n shit. How he’s had ’em thinkin’ he was broke and homeless. He tells me ’bout some rich bitch he fucks wit’ out in LA who asked ’im to bust his nuts up in ’er so she can have’a baby; how she hits ’im wit’ five gees a month and keeps ’im on-call for when she wants the dick. He tells me ’bout some midget chick from Georgia he was fuckin’, then fucked ’er cousin in ’er own bed. Tells me how most of the chicks he’s met are either Myspace or Blackplanet hoes searchin’ for dick and companionship. Tells me ’bout all the psychos and stalkers he’s had. Tells me ’bout the restrainin’ orders; and e’e
rything else in between.
By the time this nigga finishes tellin’ me ’bout all’a his sexcapades wit’ these stupid ass bitches, we’re puffin’ our second blunt and my head is spinnin’ from tryna keep up. On some real shit, I’m surprised he tells me all this shit. I hit the blunt, then pass it back to ’im, lettin’ e’erything he’s said wrap ’round my brain.
I fall back on the bed laughin’ my ass off, imaginin’ this thick muhfucka bangin’ up a midget. “Ohmiiigod, I still can’t believe you actually fucked a midget. You’se a real nasty fucka.”
“They’re called lil’ people,” he says, laughin’ wit’ me. “But, yeah, I ain’t gonna front. I’ve been a wild cat when it comes to da pussy. Always prowlin’ ’n shit. But, I always keep it real wit’ them broads.”
“Mmmph. If them birds were stupid ’nough to catch feelin’s and get all caught up in you, then they got what da fuck they deserved. But, don’t eva think you gonna have a bitch like me stalkin’ or huntin’ ya ass down; not gonna happen.”
“I don’t plan on givin’ you a reason to,” he says, climbin’ back into bed. He kisses me on the lips. “Yo, I wanna stay da night.”
I stare at ’im. Sumthin’ tells me to tell ’im, “Hell no!” But I don’t. “And do what?”
“Make love to you, hold you in my arms ’n wake up to ya sexy ass in da mornin’.”
Ohhhhkay, yes, a bitch is grinnin’. But, I keep it cute. “You can stay, tonight. But don’t think this is gonna become a habit. And, puhleeze don’t think you’re gonna eva get a fuckin’ dime outta me.”
He shakes his head, sittin’ up in the bed ’n proppin’ two pillows in back of ’im. “Yo, I don’t want ya paper, ma.”
“Well, good ’cause a bitch ain’t givin’ none out. So there should be no confusion. Now, tell me. What is it a muhfucka like you really want? And don’t playground me.”
He stares at me. “Nah, no playgroundin’ you; I’m dead-up.” The way the nigga is lookin’ at me is makin’ me uncomfortable. He’s lookin’ at me in a way I can’t remember another muhfucka eva lookin’ at me. He pulls me into his arms. “All I want is you, ma.”
