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“Whoo-hooo. . . . this pussy feel good . . . I take it in the ass, take in the throat . . . pussy on fire . . . whose fuckin’ tonight, whose fuckin’ tonight . . . ”
I start dancin’ all fast ’n hard ’n nasty, gettin’ the crowd all amped, like I always do. I slide my butt plug into my mouth, then slowly pull it out, lickin all around the sides of it. “Ass so sweet . . . who wanna lick? Who wanna stick . . . ? Oooow, do that shit, do that shit . . . ”
Niggahs start chantin’, “Go, Booty! Go, Booty!”
“Oh, daaaaayum, yo!” I overhear someone shoutin’ over the music. “You see that shit, son? She done pulled a dildo outta her ass . . . ”
“Yo, she on some real freaky-type shit.”
“Do that shit, Big Booty,” Dickalina shouts. “Let ’em know what you workin’ with, girl. Ooow . . . ” She starts clappin’ and doin’ some kinda “Oh Happy Day” shit, like she’s somewhere gettin’ her praise ’n worship on. Mmmph. A damn mess!
Two songs later, I’m wrappin’ my assplug into a napkin, then droppin’ it down in my handbag as I sit back up at the bar. Big Mike slides me another Cum Stain. And I take two long sips. Oooh, these damn drinks are doin’ me right, goddammit! I take two more sips, then sit my drink up on the bar, watchin’ Lina doin’ the Dougie. She’s all tanked up on Speedballs—shots of Stoli, Tanqueray, and Cuervo with a splash of lime juice. Oooh, she’s goin’ hard, workin’ the shit outta it. She drops down, touches the floor with it, then snakes it back up. Oooh, those drinks really got Miss Dickalina doin’ stunts tonight. I chuckle as some brown-skinned niggah inches up in back of her and starts tryna bring it to her.
I laugh as she drops down into a split, then bounces back up. “Go ’head, Lina! Pop that pussy up on ’im, sugah-boo!”
I hop up off the barstool and shake it back on the dance floor when the deejay starts playin’ Future’s “Bitches Ain’t Shit.” “Aaaaah, yes . . . Niggahs ain’t shit . . . I’ll trick ’em off their money . . . twerkin’ it . . . murkin’ it . . . fuck ’em to sleep . . . Yesssss, goddammit . . . !”
When the deejay slows it down with Lil’ Wayne’s “Pussy Money Weed” I start swayin’ my hips to the beat, runnin’ my hands through my hair. This song makes me wanna give a niggah the business tonight. “Yessssss . . . pussy, money, weed . . . do me right, goddammit!”
I dance it up for another two songs, then pop my hips back over to the bar. Lina’s drunk ass follows behind me. “Giiirl,” she slurs as she sits up on her stool. “I’m havin’ me a damn good time.” Dickalina’s all sweaty and lookin’ extra greasy. She dabs a napkin across her forehead, then at the back of her neck. “Oooh, all these niggahs in here got me wantin’ to do some thangs. I gotta get home and fuck Knutz . . . Oooh, he gotta big ole juicy dick, Cass . . . this music got me so horny . . . ”
I frown. “Coon, I don’t wanna hear no shit about how big Knutz’s damn dick is. Drunk bitch! Is you crazy?”
“I’m just sayin’. Damn, bitch. And no I ain’t drunk. I’m nice.”
“Oh, you nice ’n drunk.”
She pokes her lips out. “Cassie, why you gotta call me a coon ’n shit? All I’m doin’ is sharin’ sumthin’ wit’ you.”
I tilt my head. “ ’Cause that’s what the hell you are for flappin’ ya goddamn jaws about how big your niggah’s dingdong is. Ho, I don’t like the niggah, number one, so I don’t give a fuck. But, if I was some real thirsty bitch that stayed on that slut juice, I’d be tryna see the dick for myself.”
“But I know you ain’t like that so I ain’t gotta worry about you tryna fuck my man.” She takes a sip of her drink. “Oooh these Speedballs are good. Speakin’ of dick. You really should meet Knutz’s friend L, Cass. He really wants to meet you.”
I twist my lips up. L? I heard that name before. I wonder if he’s the same niggah AJ was talkin’ about. Hmmm. “And where’s the niggah from, and how Knutz know him?”
“I don’t know where he’s from ’cause Knutz ain’t tell me. But I know they were in the county together last year. And they were also at Northern State together the last time Knutz was in prison. All I know is, he is fine. And from what Knutz says about him, he’s wild as hell. And a freak.”
“Mmmph. What, him and Knutz was fuckin’ or somethin’?”
“Bitch, is you crazy? Hell no. Knutz ain’t even gay like that. Although he told me he let some niggah suck his dick and lick his ass a few times before. But that was when he was locked up in his twenties.”
I frown. “Bitch, TM-motherfuckin’-I. I don’t need to know shit about Knutz lettin’ another niggah top him off or toss his salad. And you know about this, how?”
“ ’Cause he told me.”
“Bitch, I’m lookin’ at you sideways now.”
“Cass, puhleeze. It’s no biggie. I know Knutz ain’t with that. He experimented. Besides, he ain’t da first or da last niggah who done had another niggah suckin’ on his dick while he was locked up. At least he told me about it. More than what I can say for other niggahs.”
I blink. This ratchet bitch done gone from hoodrat to gutter rat tellin’ me this bullshit. Some shit ain’t never, ever, supposed to fall outta ya goddamn mouth. And ya niggah getting’ his dicked sucked by another niggah is one of those things you take to the motherfuckin’ grave. Oooh, this bitch! I toss back my drink. Then order another one. This ho is crazy. But whatever!
“Anyway, girl. That niggah L really wants Knutz to hook you up wit’ him. I think you might like him. He likes to fuck like you, too. But Knutz said he don’t like no one fuckin’ wit’ his balls ’cause some crazy bitch he was messin’ wit’ tried to bite ’em off.”
I frown. “Ugh. What kinda bitches he fuckin’ with? Mmmmph. Well, I ain’t sayin’ I wanna meet his ass. And I ain’t tryna play with his balls so whatever. Is the niggah broke?”
She stares at me. “Bitch, how I know. He just got outta the county. You know he probably gotta get his stacks up. Right now he tryna have a good time. And when I told him you like it in da ass he started droolin’ and practically goin’ crazy.”
“You did what? Bitch, don’t be tellin’ some strange niggah my business.”
