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I eye him, knowin’ly as I twirl my tongue around his dick. “What won’t change? Me suckin’ ya dick all up in ya squad car? You gonna stop fuckin’ me?”
“Nah, me wantin’ custody of Joshua.”
Niggah, you fuckin’ with the wrong one!
“Oh, that,” I say, smirkin’. “Julius, you do whatever you feel you gotta do. And I’ma do what I gotta do. But, for right now, all I want is this big dick down in my throat.”
“Oh, word? You got my shit hard as fuck.”
I cup his small, hairy balls and gently juggle them in my hand, then roll ’em between my fingers. I throat his dick, then reach up with one hand and twist his nipple. He grunts. “I love it when you suck this dick, Cass . . . aaah, fuck . . . ”
I know you do, niggah!
He reaches over and hikes up the side of my skirt, rememberin’ from earlier today that I don’t have on any drawers. He smacks my ass, causin’ my pussy to clench. I wanna fuck him! But I hate his ass right now. All six-feet of him! Still . . . I love the niggah’s dick! And right in broad daylight, I have his ass moanin’ and groanin’ and gruntin’ as I greedily suck him down balls-deep in the school’s empty parkin’ lot next to my truck.
I pull his dick from outta my throat, then slap it. Softly at first, then hard, causin’ it to spring back at me. I slap it again. He grunts. I slap it again, this time squeezin’ his balls. “Aaah, shit, fuck . . . you about to make me nut . . . ”
I know what he wants better than he knows it. It’s always been like that from the moment I met him. I was twenty-one and hot in the ass, pussy, and throat with five kids and four baby daddies. It was a Saturday night and I was up in the club—on the dance floor—doin’ what I do best, shakin’ it, droppin’ it, poppin’ it, and clappin’ it. All eyes were on me, “the bitch wit’ da phat ass” as I bounced it up on some niggah who didn’t know what the fuck to do with it. I was too much for him to handle, and he finally backed off, leaving me to continue my show—alone.
With a drink in one hand, I lost myself in the music, slippin’ back to my days as a stripper—when I was one of the highest-paid, well-sought-out hoes on the stage. Niggahs would line the stage and pack the club just to see me make this ass pop and clap. And there was a part of me that missed that adrenaline rush that came along with bein’ up on the stage in front of hundreds of horny motherfuckas, whistlin’ and howlin’ for more while lettin’ ones, fives, tens, twenties, and fifties rain down on me. That night at the club I was dancin’ fast and hard and real nasty, then hip rolled it into slow, seductive, hypnotizin’ moves. Yes, a bitch was real frisky and feelin’ herself, but so what. I knew I was workin’ the floor. And I had almost forgotten where I was until I felt someone dancin’ behind me, grindin’ all up on my ass like he owned it. When I spun around to face the intruder, it was this niggah, standin’ in back of me, drunk and grinnin’.
“You sexy as fuck,” he yelled in my ear over the music.
“Yeah, and?” I said with a buncha sass. “That still doesn’t give you the right to ride up on my ass like you got it like that.”
“I wanna take you home wit’ me and fuck you all night.”
“Niggah, you wouldn’t know what to do with a young bitch like me.” I spun around on my heel, then bent over and popped it up on his crotch. The minute I felt his dick stabbin’ the seam of my ass, I werked it, twerked it and damn near made him squirt in it. I reached around and grabbed his arms, wrappin’ them around my waist, then practically let him fuck me on the dance floor. I had motherfuckas who were tryna get at me all night, but had been igged or dissed, feelin’ some kinda way.
I threw this ass up on him, rump-shaked it until he bucked at the knees, then spun back around to face him, grinnin’. “I made you nut on ya’self, didn’t I?”
He stared at me with a goofy-ass look on his face. His eyes were glazed from booze and lust. He folded his hands in front of him, seemingly embarrassed that I called him out on it. “Nah, I can’t come like that.”
I rolled my eyes. “Lies. You ain’t gotta front. I already know I made ya drawers sticky, niggah.”
He smirked. “I ain’t had no pussy in two weeks.”
I rolled my eyes up in my head. “Just what I thought, niggah. Ya horny ass can’t hang with me; nuttin’ all quick and shit.” I walked off the dance floor.
“Aye, yo, wait up,” he said, gently pullin’ me by the arm. “You gotta name?”
“You eat pussy?”
“Hell yeah.”
I tilted my head and eyed him. He was sexy as fuck. “Come outside and eat my pussy real quick. If it’s good, I’ll tell you my name after I cum on ya tongue.”
Ten minutes later, I was in the backseat of his black Jeep with my legs up over his shoulders and his tongue shoved deep into my pussy. His tongue work was delicious and it wasn’t long before he had his dick in me and was fuckin’ me deep, hard, and fast.
Julius was twenty-three and fine with a hard, horny dick that wanted to be sucked and fucked. The niggah had heard through the street news that I had some real good pussy and took it up the ass so he wanted to sample it for himself. And after two weeks of reckless fuckin’, I got pregnant.
That night at the club when his boys pointed me out on the dance floor he walked up behind me and started dancin’ up on me, I let him think I was caught off-guard. What he didn’t know was that I had been watchin’ him from the minute he stepped foot into the club. That I was on the prowl that night for some dick; that all of my hard, nasty dancin’ that night was to reel the niggah in, like now . . .
I rapidly suck and pop his cock, slather it up with a buncha spit, then gulp it down into my throat as I slide a hand between my legs and start playin’ with my clit.
“Ohh, fuck, baby . . . I can’t keep fuckin’ with you like this . . . You trouble, Cass . . . aaaah, shit . . . you ’bout to make me nut . . . ”
I remove his dick from outta my throat and start jacking it off, flickin’ my tongue over the head. He grabs a chunk of my ass, then slaps it. “Nice, big, juicy ass . . . ”
