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“No, not that one,” Elijah says. “The one with the three chins.”
“Yo, I think Marquelle hit that, too,” Joshua says, laughin’.
“Ill, he’s nasty for that,” Elijah says as Marquelle walks through the door. “Marquelle, Josh said you did it to Crispy Cream. Did you?”
He sucks his teeth. “Yo, shut up with that. No, I ain’t do it to that ugly-ass girl. She wanted me to. But, hell no. she wasn’t gettin’ none’a this sausage.”
I eye him. At six-five, his milk-chocolate ass keeps a buncha horny young hoes followin’ behind him. And I know he’s been servin’ them that long, black dick just like his no-good fahver, Marcellus, used to before his dingaling started malfunctionin’. But before that, whew! That niggah used to beat my pussy up right.
Mmmph. Anyway, I keep a tight rein on Marquelle’s horny ass. Basketball is his life. This is his last year in high school and he’s been offered scholarships to play at eight different colleges. And the last thing I wanna see is him fuck it up behind some hot-in-the-ass ho. DaQuan’s in college doin’ good. And now I gotta make sure he gets his ass in college, too. Knockin’ some ho up is not an option.
I raise a brow. “Marquelle, ya ass better not be out there servin’ a sausage or any-other kinda goddamn meat to any of them hot-pussy bitches unless you wrappin’ that shit up. And I mean it. Better yet, you better double-wrap that shit.”
“Yo, chill, Ma,” he says, bouncin’ his ball up in his big hand. “You wildin’ for real. I ain’t servin’ up no raw meat.”
I narrow my eyes. “Mmmph. You shouldn’t be out there servin’ up no kinda meat, boy. But I know you hot in the balls like your damn fahver. So I know you fuckin’. But I’ma tell you this. You get some ho pregnant and I’ma slice ya meat clean off. So if you don’t have a condom to use, you had better use some Saran Wrap and seal them juices in; otherwise I’ma fuck you up.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he says, walkin’ up on me, then leanin’ down and kissin’ me on the cheek. “I know, Ma.”
“And she’s gonna fry it up in a pan,” Elijah says, laughin’.
“Boy, don’t ‘I know, Ma’. I mean it, Marquelle. And, Elijah, stop fuckin’ around and get that homework done. And shut your fresh mouth up. Now, where you been, Marquelle?”
“Playin’ ball,” he says, walkin’ into the kitchen. I eye him as he opens the stove, then the microwave, then the refrigerator. “Yo, Ma, you ain’t cook? I’m hungry.”
?
?Boy, you better wash ya damn hands. And no, I didn’t cook. You shoulda ate wherever you came from. Text your sister and tell her to get her black ass home and get this kitchen cleaned up.”
He shakes his head. “Asia stays on that dumb shit, for real. She’s fuckin’ dumb as hell.”
“Marquelle, what I tell you ’bout cussin’ up in my face? You know I don’t play that shit. I don’t know where the hell y’all get them filthy-ass mouths from, but I’m not gonna goddamn have it up in here. Now do what I asked you, please. And tell Day’Asia she has fifteen minutes to get her black ass home.”
I take a deep breath as I walk to my room, then shut down. I’ma need more than a blunt to keep from goin’ off tonight. I smile when I check my cell and see a text from Born Wise—one of my sexy boy-toys wantin’ to meet up for some pussy. He’s twenty-three, six one, and tatted up. He’s also been in and outta jail since he was fourteen. He’s also a Five-Percenter—a way of life he picked up when he was in prison. But that makes me no never mind. I’m not interested in buildin’ with him. His teachin’s and him bein’ a God-body have nothin’ to do with him rockin’ my body and makin’ this pussy skeet, which is exactly what I need to unwind. The only thing I wanna do is elevate up on his long, thick dick, then ride him down into the mattress until I roll over on my stomach and inch up on all fours for him to do me right.
Yeah, I know I fucked JT earlier; so what? I’m tryna get this paper, boo. And I love fuckin’, so why not do both. I’ll wait ’til I know the kids are knocked out, then dip out for a dose of dingaling. I text him and tell him I want my asshole eaten, then beatdown to the seams. Less than a minute later, he texts back: I GOT U!
We go back and forth for a few minutes before decidin’ to meet at the Courtyard on Route . . . ’cause ain’t no niggahs comin’ up in here unless you one of my baby daddies.
I tell him about the new thirty-six-hundred-dollar Louie bag I have my eyes on. I let him know I want it. And although the lil’ niggah says he can probably give me half of the money to buy it, I already know that after I finish lettin’ him face-fuck, pussy-fuck, and ass-fuck me tonight, he’ll be doin’ an extra shift on the block to get that paper up.
Six
I moan as Born swirls his tongue around my clit, then down and over my thick, juicy cunt lips. He slithers it into my wet hole. Ooh, fuck, my pussy’s so wet thanks to this niggah’s masterful tongue work. He gobbles my hot pussy like it’s coated with honey. Yes, goddammit! Do me right!
I thrust my hips up, pump my pussy in his face as I pinch my nipples. He grunts as he feasts on my coochie, suckin’ on my pussy lips, lickin’ my clit, then pullin’ it between his teeth . . . ooh, yes. This boy is young, but he knows how to eat the hell outta this pussy. But he ain’t know shit ’bout eatin’ pussy or ass-fuckin’ ’til I taught him how Big Booty likes it. Now the niggah’s a pussy-eatin’, ass-fuckin’ pro.
“Ooh, niggah, that’s it! That’s it! Eat that shit, lil’niggah . . . oooh, yes . . . do me right, goddammit . . . ”
I shut my eyes and rock my hips against his tongue thrust. “Yeah, yeah, yeah . . . . mmmph . . . make my pussy skeet . . . ”
He grunts, then stops lickin’. He comes up from between my thighs with his face glazed and sticky like a donut. His fingers are still stuffed deep in my pussy, massagin’ my spot. I hump and grind on his hand.
“You wanna see me skeet, niggah, huh?”
“Yeah, ma, nut on my fingers for me so I can lick that shit up.”
“Oooh, that’s right. Get that shit, motherfucka. Ooooh, I’m gettin’ ready to cream, niggah . . . mmm. Put your mouth back on that pussy and let me shoot my pussy juice in ya mouth.” He wraps his mouth around my pussy and gobbles me up, his tongue greedily flappin’ ’n lappin’ all over the place. “Yeah, get that shit . . . ”
