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“Yeah, baby…aaah, shit yeah. Suck that dick.”
I hummed and licked and swallowed his cock until he shot his thick nut. By the time I pulled his dick outta my throat and started suckin’ the head, he had bust another load. I licked my lips, and slurped up the cream from around his balls, then pulled him toward me by the back of his neck and slid my tongue into his mouth, givin’ him a taste of his own juices. My thing is, if a nigga can’t kiss me after I let him bust his nut in my mouth, then that ain’t the muhfucka for me. And, on some real shit, the muhfucka would never get piped out again.
Anyway, after we finished kissin’ and whatnot, he held me in his arms. And I felt somethin’ I had never felt before. Safe.
“Damn, girl,” he said, runnin’ his fingas through my hair. I wasn’t one of those bitches who got heated when a nigga dug his hands in her hair, ’cause a bitch didn’t have to worry ’bout no tracks ’n shit gettin’ yanked or his hand gettin’ stuck. “You keep suckin’ and wettin’ this dick the way you do, and you gonna have a nigga fall for your sexy ass.”
I lifted my head from his chest, and looked at him. I’m a bitch who knows how to suck a nigga’s dick, and fuck him until his head is spinnin’ and his knees are shakin’. And I knew, once a bitch got inside a nigga’s mind, she’d eventually get into his heart too.
“Maybe that’s what I want.”
“It’s all good,” he said, rubbin’ the side of my face. “I dig your style. You the type of chick a nigga like me needs in his life.”
I smiled. ’Cause I’m that bitch, I thought.
Silence.
“So what does a beautiful woman like you do? You in school, workin’…what’s really good with you?” he asked, runnin’ his hands up and down the curves of my body, then cuppin’ my left titty with his big hand.
I looked up at him again, stared him dead in the eyes. “I’m a villainess,” I said.
He busted out laughin’. “Yo, you funny as hell,” he said, still laughin’. “Nah, seriously, how you making ya paper?”
For some reason, I wanted to spill my guts and tell his ass my whole life story. There was somethin’ ’bout him that made me wanna keep shit real with him. But I didn’t wanna spook the nigga. So I kept it cute. I shifted my body and took his dick back into my mouth until it bricked up again, slobbered all over it, lapped his hairy balls with my tongue, then climbed back up on top of him. I slid down on his dick and did what I do best…welcomed him into the Kat Trap.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Almost a month had passed since I saw my moms or even spoke to her ass, but the shit Chanel had told me ’bout her bein’ knocked the fuck up was still floatin’ around in a bitch’s head. And it was fuckin’ with me. I wanted, needed, to know what was really good with her ass. But I also wasn’t beat to call her. Call it pride. Call it stubbornness. Call it whatever the fuck you want. Bottom line, I wasn’t callin’ her. But I called Tamia’s ho ass instead.
“Hello?”
“Bitch,” I snapped, “don’t front like you don’t know who the fuck it is. I know ya ass saw my number come up.”
“Humph,” she grunted, suckin’ her teeth. “Whatever.”
I could tell the bitch was still salty, like I gave a fuck. I kept on pressin’. “What’s good with ya trick ass?” I asked.
“Not a damn thing, bitch. Now what you want ’cause I know this ain’t no fuckin’ social call.”
I laughed. “Ho, I know ya ass ain’t still heated.”
She sucked her teeth. “The fuck I ain’t. Bitch, that was some real foul shit you pulled at Chanel’s, tryna come at my neck all sideways ’n shit. On some real shit, I ain’t really feelin’ ya ass right now, Kat.”
“Bitch, get over ya’self,” I snapped. “Ain’t shit changed, ho. You s
till my bitch. I just wanted to know what was really good with ya ass.”
“Well, you didn’t have to try ’n play me out ’n shit. You coulda came at me differently.”
I sighed. “Tamia, please…shoulda, coulda, woulda. Since when ya ass get all sensitive ’n shit? I heard some shit, and I asked ya silly-ass about it. You said the shit wasn’t true, so why the fuck is you still stressin’ over it? But on some real shit, I don’t give a fuck ’bout ya fuckin’ attitude. Like I said, you still my bitch. But, you actin’ like you wanna get it in or some shit. And you already know what it is. So, don’t do it.”
“No, bitch,” she snapped. “You know what it is. It’s whatever.”
I took a deep, slow breath. “Oh, so you really tryna get it in over some dumb shit. Bitch, I will push ya muthafuckin’ wig back, and you know this. On some real shit, don’t go there. I can’t believe you really tryna bring it when you know I will straight rock ya ass.” I bust out laughin’. “Bitch, you done really let all that nut up in ya guts go to ya fuckin’ knotty-ass head, for real.”
“You know what, Kat, I am so fuckin’ sick of you, bitch. Real talk. Chanel ’n them might let ya ass come at them any kinda way, but—”
“Bitch, what the fuck Chanel ’n them got to do with this?”
