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“Bitch, turn the stank off in ya throat and let’s go down to the Crack House tonight for a few drinks. Knutz ain’t probably gonna be home until late. And I’m tired of sittin’ up in this house waitin’ on his black ass. So, let’s make it pop-pop before that crazy niggah decides to come home and wreck my nerves for the night.”
I disarm my alarm, then open the door and slide behind the wheel. I’m really not in the mood to be out with this ho tonight and I tell her so. She sucks her teeth. “See, bitch. You stay dissin’ me, ho, and I’m not likin’ it one damn bit. You act like you can’t even go out wit’ ya girl for a few goddamn drinks. Damn, Cass. Every since you got ya lil’ truck you been actin’ like a real stuck-up bitch.”
I roll my eyes. This bitch is always tryna make someone feel guilty. “Trick, I’ll be there at six. Have your ugly ass downstairs.” I end the call pullin’ outta the mall’s parkin’ lot. I ain’t been out since last week so hittin’ The Crack House and tossin’ back some yak ain’t a bad thing. Mmmph. And I can serve it up in my new heels.
Eight
Baaaaaby, tonight is not one of those nights where I’m in the mood for some crusty-ass niggah to be all up in my goddamn face. Everything about this niggah-bitch standin’ here in my face is wrong. Dead wrong! From the half-moon fade up on his head—like, really, if you’re balding, shave that shit off! There’s nothin’ sexy about a niggah’s hairline startin’ where his ears are. Not it! Not for Big Booty, baby! Then his I-Can’t-Believe-It’s-Not-Butter teeth are enough to make me wanna throw up. Oh, no. A niggah with yellow corn kernels can’t get anywhere near this coochie ’n ass. What the hell I want with a mofo who has teeth that look like mini chicken McNuggets tryna gnaw up my pussy? I think not! Then this fool has the nerve to have two of his nuggets trimmed in gold.
I frown.
“So, I’m sayin’, baby,” he says, lickin’ his big, juicy lips. “When you gonna stop playin’ games and let Big Daddy chill with you?”
I blink. Tilt my head. Look around the bar for my girl, Dickalina’s dumb ass. I don’t know why I even let her talk me into comin’ down here tonight. She knows ain’t shit poppin’ off in this dump on a damn Wednesdaynight. It doesn’t get live up in here until Friday and Saturday nights, then it’s packed wall-to-wall with them thorough, get-money, hood-type niggahs. Otherwise, you’re sittin’, or in my case, standin’ here looking in the face of rejects, like this busted-ass niggah gawkin’ at me, hopin’ to score some pussy.
I bring my attention back to him. “What was the question, again?”
“Yo, stop frontin’, baby. You standin’ here lookin’ and smellin’ all good, got me wantin’ to take you home and do some thangs to you. When can I spend some time with you?”
I slowly lick the crushed peppermint and sugar from around the rim of my glass. I do it deliberately to fuck with his ass. Tonight I’m drinkin’ a Gut Twister, one of the Crack House specialty drinks. And somethin’ he’ll never get to do. Not with me anyway.
“Easy, boo,” I say, slidin’ my lips over the tip of my straw, takin’ a sip of my drink. He keeps his eyes locked on my lips. And the whole time I’m lookin’ at him all I keep thinkin’ about is him tryna gnaw my pussy ’n clit up like it’s calamari. I cringe. “When you invest in a new set of teeth and let me run your pockets down into the ground, then I might consider it.”
“Oh, damn. It’s like that? Why you gotta go in on my teeth?”
“No, the question is why haven’t you taken your black ass into a damn dentist office?” I walk off, shakin’ my ass real hard and nasty-like. I sashay around the bar until I find Dickalina.
I hope this ho’s ready to roll.
I spot her over by the pool table, laughin’ it up with Buddha—this tall skinny, sexy-ass, light-skinned niggah from around the way I’ve had my eye on ever since he was sixteen, patiently waiting for his ass to turn legal. And now that he is, mmmph . . . I wanna fuck the shit out of him. He’s with some other niggah who looks like someone I’ve seen somewhere before. And the closer I get to them, the more certain I am that I have. I may be bad with names. But there are two things I don’t ever forget. The face of a niggah I’ve fucked and the face of one who’s a snake. And since I know I ain’t ever fuck his ass that leaves only one other option. He did some shady shit somewhere around me and his ass can’t be trusted!
I eye him for a hot minute, then shift my eyes over at Dickalina. She’s shooting a game of pool with Buddha. Mmmph. I heard he had a big-ass dick. And I’m ready to find out up close and personal. I’m about to reel his ass in nice and slow.
“Hey, girl,” Dickalina says, lookin’ up from the table. “You ready to blow this joint?”
“Ho, I’ve been ready,” I say, walkin’ up on them. “But now that I see Buddha’s fine ass up in here, I might wanna hang around a little longer.”
He grins. “Hey, Miss Simms. How you, ma?”
I smile back. “I’m good. But, I’d be even better if I was ridin’ down on somethin’ thick and hard.”
He laughs.
Dickalina shakes her head. “Girl, you’re a damn mess.”
“No, I’m horny. And ain’t a damn thing messy about that.” Buddha eyes me, pullin’ in his bottom lip. I imagine them pretty lips nibblin’ on my clit, kissin’ up and down my pussy lips. “Buddha, what you been up to, lil’ niggah?”
“Shit. Chillin’. Tryna stay outta the heat. Shit’s been kinda hot lately.”
“I heard that. Yeah, your fine ass don’t need to be gettin’ clanked up.”
He smiles. “Nah, I ain’t beat.”
“Where’s your ole nappy-headed sister at?”
He laughs. “Locked up.”
“Mmmph. What her dumb ass do now?”
