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This muhfucka’s leanin’ up against my doorframe wit’ his cell pressed up to his ear. “And I told you, I ain’t tryna let you go that easy. So wrong answer.” I don’t know if I should be happy to see this nigga or heated that his ass popped up at my spot wit’out permission. He smiles at me, disconnectin’ our call. “Yo, you gonna let me in, or what?”
I stare ’im down, slowly shakin’ my head. “Nigga, you know you crazy, right?” I step back, openin’ the door so he can come inside. He brushes past me. “What are doin’ here?”
He lays his phone down on the coffee table. “Well, I figured since I can’t get you by phone, and you ain’t respondin’ to any of my text, I thought I should come by to make sure you aiight.”
“Nigga, you can’t be poppin’ up ova here like you King Ding Dong ’n shit. You real outta pocket now.”
He starts removin’ his chain and watch, then takes off his AF Ones. “Then I guess I might as well get outta these clothes, too.” He pulls off his Ed Hardy tee shirt, then his wife beater.
I stare at ’im. “What da fuck is you doin’?”
“What it look like? You said I’m outta pocket, so now I’m ’bout to be outta my clothes. I’m strippin’ butt-ass naked and I ain’t leavin’ this muhfucka ’til we air shit out; real talk.” He unbuckles his belt, unsnaps his jeans, then pulls ’em off.
I fold my arms, starin’ at ’im standin’ here bare-chested and in his Polo boxers. This muthafucka is too fuckin’ extra. “Nigga, you need to put ya shit back on.”
He steps outta his drawers. Then has the muthfuckin’ audacity to throw ’em at me. “Whatchu gonna do, throw a muhfucka out?”
I try not to glance down at his shiny black dick. Try to act like a bitch ain’t tryna slurp his chocolate ass up. He licks his lips. “Muhfucka, I ain’t playin’ wit’ you.” Bitch, but you know ya horny ass want this muhfucka playin’ wit’ you . So shut ya ho-ass up ’n get wit’ da damn program.
He walks up on me. “Yo, some real shit. You gotta muhfucka feelin’ ’n actin’ like a real bitch right’a ’bout now.” He pulls me into ’im, and kisses me on the forehead, then on the tip of my nose. “You wanna know the one thing that has always annoyed da shit outta me?”
This muhfucka smells so damn good. My pussy lips ’n clit are startin’ to swell. I look up at ’im. “What’s that?”
“A whinin’, needy-ass bitch. And here you gotta muhfucka doin’ da same shit, yo.”
I smirk. “Is that what I’m doin’?”
He looks me in the eyes. “I don’t know what da fuck it is ’bout you. I ain’t never been a sucka for good pussy. But you got a nigga’s head all fucked up, yo; true story. I keep you on da brain, heavy.” I wanna tell ’im that the shit’s mutual, but I don’t. Pride won’t let me. He kisses me on the lips. “I dogged a lotta bitches ’cause they let me, Kat. Not ’cause I was lyin’ to ’em or misleadin’ ’em. I always kept shit a hunnid. I would tell ’em from da rip what it was. That a muhfucka wasn’t lookin’ for love; that a muhfucka wasn’t beat for no extras other than good pussy, throat ’n ass. And if they caught feelin’s then that shit was on them. Not me.” He strokes the side of my face. “And a muhfucka knows I hurt a few—hell, a lot—of ’em real bad, but they opened da door to that shit, feel me?”
I nod my head, knowin’ly. His hands travel up and down my back. His dick is already brick and I’m tryin’ my damndest to act like I don’t peep this big-ass stick gaugin’ me. I try to step outta his embrace, but he doesn’t let me. And my achin’ pussy won’t, eitha.
“Nah, stand here and let a muhfucka hold you, and finish tellin’ you this shit. “Wit’ da exception of maybe two or three, I had no respect for none’a them bitches, Kat. And that’s on e’erything. I would tell ’em all, ‘fuck wit’ a nigga like me at ya own risk’. I’d warn ’em to not come at me lookin’ for love ’cause a muhfucka wasn’t givin’ none of da shit out. And when they didn’t stick to da script, I’d dismiss ’em from their dick wettin’ duties. Now here I am, and you hittin’ me with da exact same shit I used to tell e’very broad who was tryna bag me.” He shakes his head, smilin’.
“What, why you grinnin’?”
“It’s funny how shit turns out, that’s all. I was really feelin’ some kinda way when you wasn’t pickin’ up my calls or respondin’ to my text, but it’s da same shit I used to do to chicks who were startin’ to get nutty on me. Then when they’d finally get at me whinin’ ’bout why I didn’t hit ’em back, I’d tell ’em if a muhfucka doesn’t get back at ’em, then it meant a muhfucka ain’t interested. I guess I should start listenin’ to my own shit.”
Mmmph, maybe you should. I shift my weight from one foot to the otha. “Look, muhfucka, if you stayin’, we need to sit da fuck down sumwhere.” He takes me by the hand, pullin’ me to the sofa. “Uhhh, nigga, I know you ain’t gonna plop ya bare ass down on my sofa.”
“Nah, yo. C’mon wit’ that. I’ma put my jeans back on.”
“Mmmph. I don’t know why you took them shits off in da first place.” I watch ’im slip back into his pants. He leaves ’em unfastened, sittin’ next to me.
He takes my hand back into his, then brings it up to his lips and kisses it. “Kat, real shit, you know more ’bout me than anyone else besides my moms. Them bitches I was out there fuckin’ were nuthin’ more than a buncha pussy attached to low-self esteem, a ton of insecurities and mad loneliness. What da fuck I want wit’ that shit?”
I shrug. ?
?I don’t know, you tell me.”
“Like I said, I didn’t respect ’em, Kat. And da fucked up thing is most of ’em didn’t respect themselves. A muhfucka like me ain’t never been da type’a cat to reassure some emotionally bankrupt ho ’bout shit she should already know.” He pauses, shakin’ his head. Then starts laughin’. “Yo, my moms told me I had betta proceed wit’ caution, fuckin’ wit’ you. She said you da kinda chick that would fuck a nigga up for tryna play ’er. And she didn’t wanna have’ta bury my ass. Yo, I couldn’t believe she told me that shit. Then she told me to leave you alone unless I was serious.”
“Well, she’s right,” I say, raisin’ a brow. “And you might wanna take heed, nigga.”
“Yo, and that’s da shit that’s funny ’cause I know this. And a muhfucka still wanna rock wit’ you. I know ya fine-ass is crazy. But I also know that underneath all that tough shit, is a woman wit’ a heart full of love. A woman who wants a muhfucka she can be real wit’, who she can chill wit’ and be in love wit’. A woman who wants a muhfucka she can count on; a muhfucka who can hold shit down.”
I shift in my seat. Let go of his hand. “You don’t know that.”
“Yeah, aiight, Kat. Keep frontin’. I see it in ya eyes. You scared.”
