AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s on you. I just know I’m not gonna expect much. Expectations open the door for disappointments, and I’m not the one.”
“I feel you,” he said, holdin’ his hand out for his change. The ho was so busy tryna check for him she had to recount the money. I rolled my eyes. The old me woulda been on some real extra shit and woulda blasted her ass.
When he pulled off and made his way through the tunnel, I looked over at him and said, “I guess you got a lotta bitches checkin’ for you.”
“Nah, not really. I mean, there’s a few. But it ain’t that serious.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, half-believin’ him. It wasn’t like I was tryna make him my man. Hell, he could fuck whoever he wanted. I just wanted to test ride the dick for myself. But, still, a bitch wanted to know how he did him. “So, how many baby mamas you got?”
“None.”
“How many bitches you fuckin’?”
“Two.”
“Oh, and what…you tryna add me to the list?”
“Maybe,” he said, glancin’ over at me. I smiled. I was really diggin’ him. “Why you smilin’?”
I slowly shook my head. “I don’t share.”
He grinned. “Oh, so what you sayin’, you tryna have me all to yourself?”
“Maybe,” I said, lickin’ my lips and starin’ at him real sexy-like, “maybe not.”
“Yeah, aiight.” He laughed, weavin’ in and outta traffic through midtown. “You got a lotta shit with you, but it’s all good.”
I smiled, but said nothin’. The rest of the ride we were both silent, listenin’ to the music ’til he turned down Lexington. I peeped Bloomingdale’s on Fifty-Ninth, and automatically knew where we were headed: Mr. Chow’s, my all time fav Eastside spot where fashionistas, money-makers, and celebs frequented, and the food was bangin’. Yeah, it was pricey, and definitely not a spot for a penny-pincher, but it was well worth it. I smiled, thinkin’ ’bout the last time I was there, sittin’ two tables away from Beyoncé and Jay-Z. And four tables over was the one and only Donald Trump, politickin’ with a group of associates. Oh, yes, it was definitely a spot for a bitch like me—rich and beautiful. “Hmmm…how’d you know I like Chinese?”
“I don’t know, educated guess. You seemed like a Peking duck kinda chick.”
I laughed. “Yeah, okay. I got ya duck, alright.”
He laughed with me. “As long as I can have it with sauce, I’ll take it however you got it.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, grinnin’. “I bet you will.”
After he parked across the street, he opened the door to let me out, then grabbed my hand and held it as we walked up to the restaurant. Once we were seated and our food finally came to our table, a bitch was so fuckin’ hungry I coulda ate a horse. I had the chicken satay appetizers and shrimp toast with the bangin’ sweet brown sauce, then the spicy green shrimp. Grant had the shrimp with glazed walnuts and crunchy seaweed and chicken skewers. We ate, drank, and laughed like we had known each other for years. By the time we finished our third drink, I learned he was born in Hollis, Queens, but was raised in Newark. Played football in high school, and went to college on a football scholarship, but dropped out after his second year when he got hurt and couldn’t play ball anymore. He had three brothers and two sisters and was the middle child. He was twenty-eight and was ready to settle down.
I ain’t gonna front, the nigga made me feel real comfortable. He was smooth and sexy and so damn fuckable. And let me tell you. After three glasses of Pinot Grigio, a bitch wanted somethin’ more than that light, fruity shit. A blunt and some Rémy XO woulda really set it off and had me lifted and right. But I kept it cute, and sipped on the rest of my wine, grinnin’ and flirtin’ and buildin’ with this fine-ass nigga in front of me. He grinned back and we both already knew what it was. Yeah, muhfucka, I’ma have my pussy all over ya face in no time.
After we finished dessert and another round of drinks, Grant paid the bill, then took my hand and led me out the door. His big, warm hand made my pussy tingle. And as soon as we got back into his whip, he reached over and started kissin’ all over my neck and rubbin’ my titties and circlin’ my nipple with his thumb. My nipples hardened and I let out a moan. It felt like a bitch’s whole body was bein’ electrocuted. Sparks shot through me. His hands were big, strong, and soft…and his touch was sendin’ a bitch over the edge. I had to stop him before I ended up fuckin’ him in the front seat of his whip. My mind was tellin’ me to push him off me, but my body was in need of a thug-nigga’s touch. It had been so fuckin’ long since a bitch had a real nigga slay this pussy. I couldn’t think straight.
Since the only niggas I’ve fucked and sucked for the last four years have been the ones I’ve slumped, fuckin’ them allowed me to get my nut off and not have to worry ’bout a nigga puttin’ me on front street. Murkin’ their asses made fuckin’ them that much easier. They’d take my slutty deeds to their graves.
I know I’m a ho like the next bitch, but…fuck! Not on the first date. N
ot in the front seat of a car. Not in a parking lot. No. No. No. No. I heard the words in my head, but can’t remember sayin’ them. A bitch became a fuckin’ mute. My tongue was stuck in the back of my throat, right where I wanted his dick to be. Oh…my…God!
He nibbled on my chin, lightly brushed his thick, soft lips against mine, then pulled away, flickin’ the tip of his tongue against my upper lip. “I better get you home,” he finally said in his deep, sexy voice. Just like that! He had a bitch’s thong drenched. Had her pussy cracklin’, and…“I better get you home” is what he hits me with. What the fuck?!
Oh, no this nigga didn’t, I thought, pressin’ the heat from my pussy shut between my legs. This nigga is teasin’ me. He went to start the ignition, and before I knew what was happenin’, a bitch had climbed up on him and straddled his lap, and was tonguin’ him down, and grindin’ my pussy into him. I sucked on his long tongue like it was a dick, twirlin’ my tongue around his. I hadn’t kissed a real nigga in years and…his lips, my lips, his tongue, my tongue…made my body shiver. He started thrustin’ his hips up into my pussy, grabbed hold of my ass with both of his hands and started squeezin’.
“I wanna fuck,” I whispered in his ear. “You got a bitch on fire.” I sucked on his earlobe, traced his ear with my tongue.
“Yeah, baby,” he moaned. His head was pressed back on his headrest, and his eyes were half-closed as his fingas found the center of my wet pussy. He slid his hand under my dress and pulled at the string of my thong. He slid one finga, then two, inside my slit.
I moaned. “Mmm…you got some thick fingas.”
