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“Yo, where you at?”
I frown. “Niggah, I don’t answer to you.”
“Yo, go ’head wit’ that dumb shit. You free?”
I glance down at my watch. It’s almost one. Oooh, I gotta get home soon. “No,” I lie, takin’ a seat on one of the benches. “Why?”
“Yo what da fuck? I wanna see you, yo.”
I smirk. “I need some money.”
He laughs. “When don’t you? How much you tryna run me for now?” I tell him I need five grand. He sighs. “Yo, what da fuck you need so much money for? I bought that truck ya fine-ass ridin’ in, so you ain’t gotta car payment. You don’t have any credit cards. And you on section-eight, so ya rent can’t be no more than a few hunnid. So what da fuck is you doin’ wit’ all da paper I stay hittin’ you wit’?”
I frown. “Niggah-bitch, don’t worry about my section-eight, or try to calculate my expenses. That’s none of ya goddamn business. You know I like nice things. And I have expensive taste, niggah. Now, if you sayin’ you ain’t beat to finance me, then say it so I can move on to the next.”
“Yeah, aiight; talk that shit if you want, Cass. You gonna have me fuck you up, yo.”
I laugh. “Oh, like you do ya wife, huh?”
“Yo, my wife ain’t got shit to do wit’ me and you.”
“Ya ass is crazy, niggah.”
“Yo, fuck all that. I wanna fuck. My dick been hard all mornin’ thinkin’ ’bout fuckin’ you.”
“And I wanna see five stacks. My wallet’s been on E all week, boo. You wanna ride up in this wet pussy ’n hot ass, then you already know what you gotta do. Finance this pussy, niggah.”
He sucks his teeth, sighin’. “Yo, when da fuck you gonna be free today. I ain’t tryna hear all this other shit.” I tell him I won’t be free ’til later tonight, like around midnight, once my kids are all in bed, sleep. “Yeah, aiight. I’ma fuck da shit out’chu for makin’ me wait. Meet me at our spot. I gotta bounce.”
We disconnect. I smile, gettin’ up to head toward the other end of the mall—knowin’ JT’s gonna fill my wallet. And stuff these holes. Yeah, but I need to stop fuckin’ with this nutty niggah!
“Daaaaayum, Miss Simms?” I hear as I’m walkin’ by the Apple Store. I glance over my shoulder and see Beetle walkin’ out holdin’ the handle of a computer box in his hand. I stop in my tracks. He walks up on me and scoops me up in his arms. “You stay lookin’ good, ma. Damn you smell good.” He kisses me on the neck, then lets me go. My pussy puckers, rememberin’ all the fuckin’ we used to do. “How you been?”
I eye him. Oooh, he’s
lookin’ delicious, standin’ here in a pair of True Religions, a brown Gucci pullover tee and Timbs. I eye the diamond cross hangin’ around his thick neck. “I’m good, Beetle,” I say, lickin’ my lips. He kinda reminds me of Jim Jones with all that sexy-thug swag. My cootie-coo starts to juice. Beetle’s quiet and laid-back, but he’s the kinda niggah that’ll shoot ya face off if you press him wrong. And he ain’t afraid to go with the hands if he has to, either. I’ve seen him stretch a few niggahs out in the bar, so I know how he does it. “And so are you, boo.”
He grins. “Yo, that’s wassup. I see you out here doin’ it up as always.”
I look down at my bags. “Oh this is light. Money’s low today, boo.”
He eyes me. “Yo, you need sumthin’? I gotta few dollars I can hit you wit’.”
I smile. See. If I was a messy bitch I would run his pockets. But ’cause Beetle gotta special place . . . between my legs, I ain’t gonna do him like that. Besides I already got JT’s wallet on lock tonight. So ain’t no sense in bein’ greedy. But I sure wanna fuck him one last time for old time’s sake.
I glance over my shoulder to see who’s walkin’ up on us, then say, “Actually, I do need somethin’.”
“No questions asked. I got you. How much you need? And if I ain’t got it on me, I know how’ta get it.”
I step into him, then lower my voice. “I need some hard dick.”
Oooh, my pussy’s on fire, goddammit! There’s so much smoke and flames shootin’ outta my slit I can burn down a forest. I’m ready to fuck!
Beetle is butt-ass naked. His beautiful, perfectly straight dick points out like a thick arrow. I shouldn’t be fuckin’ him. This could fuck up shit with him and Darius down at the shop if it ever got out. The shit is dead wrong. But, Beetle feels sooooo good. His hard, tatted body pressed up against mine. His hands, his lips, his goddamn tongue, are all over me. And, ooooh, he’s doin’ me right.
And there’s no time to listen to the naggin’ voice in my head tellin’ me to stop. Not when my hot juices are seepin’ outta my slit. Oh, noooo, sugah-boo. This pussy needs to be fed. This bootyhole wants to be stuffed. And my wallet’s on E. So, motherfuck the voice in my head. I’ma gobble up this niggah’s Mandingaling.
I bend over and pull open my pretty brown ass, showin’ him the back of my pussy and the pink slit of my asshole. I tell him to come over and stick his tongue in it. Tell him I want him to dick ’em both down real good ’n nasty. He does what he’s told. Gives me the tongue work the way I like it. Sloppy ’n wet. His fingers, his tongue, go from my pussy to my ass, then to my clit.
