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“Yo, what’s goodie, man? This Lance from Teaneck.”
“Oh, aiight, playboy…what’s on ya mind?”
“Man, listen. Me ‘n’ my girl had a threesome ‘n’ that shit was off the hook, fam. My girl’s mad cool ‘n’ real open ’bout gettin’ it in.”
“Oh, aiight. Cool cool. That’s what’s up. So, what’s the problem?”
He huffs. “Man, listen. Now she’s pressing me for ’bout letting another muhfucka get down with us.”
I lick my lips. “Oh, word? And you tryna bless her with that.”
“Say what? Fuc—bleep outta here, man. I ain’t with that gay-ass shit. Ain’t no way I’m about to let another niggah run up in my girl. And I def ain’t with touching up on no other muhfucka. What I look like tryna have another niggah’s dic—bleep slapping up against mine?”
I shake my head. “Man, there’s nothing gay about two cats who are comfortable in their sexualities making it pop in the sheets with a chick. You sound like you struggling with some other ish, man.”
“Yo, what the fuc—bleep is you sayin’, B? I know you not even tryna call me out on some slickness?”
“Check this. Why you gettin’ defensive, playboy? No slickness here, fam. All I’m saying is, if you’re not comfortable with sharing ya girl with another cat, then cool. Say that. But saying all that extra ish makes you sound homophobic.”
“Yo, man, fuc—bleep you. Ain’t shit homo about me, muhfucka. I’m all man.”
I laugh. “Yeah. And there lies the second red flag of the night. A real man doesn’t need to say he’s all man, he just is. Just like a man who is secure in his manhood and in his sexuality doesn’t need to associate having a threesome with another dude in the sheets with him ‘n’ his girl as some gay-ass ish. If it’s not your thing, then it’s not your thing.”
“Yo, fuc—bleep you, niggah. Just because you riding that rainbow shit ‘n’ wanna be some gay activist, don’t push that shit on me. Go suck a dic—bleep, muhfucka.”
I laugh again. “Sounds like insecurity to me, bruh. But it’s all good. Go handle ya demons, bruh. Next caller.”
There’s a silent pause.
“Caller, you there?”
“I’m here, papi. Oh, how I’ve missed you…”
I blink. “Yo, what the…? Listen, you’ve been told not to call here.”
“Before you hang up, or try calling the police, you should know I’m here with this sexy piece of ass you chose over me. But let’s see how sexy she is when I’m done carving all in her face…”
My heart drops. “Excuse me? What did you say?”
“You heard me. I’m here with this sweet pus—bleep—y, puta!
I hear muffled screaming.
Motherfuck! “Yo, let me speak to my wife!”
“Oh, she’s not taking calls. She’s tied up at the moment.”
Oh, fuck!
My first thought is to snatch off these headphones and haul ass back to my crib, but my legs won’t move. Something keeps me planted in my chair. Tells me to keep this broad on the phone for as long as I can.
I feel my whole muthafuckin’ world crashing in around me.
“I love you, MarSell, baby…”
I blink.
“I’ve always loved you. From the moment I laid eyes on you eight years ago in Vibe, I fantasized about being with you. But I never thought it would happen. Then late one night when I was in my cell, I heard you on the radio. And I knew I had to have you. I fell in love with you that night, papi. I’ve played your voice over and over in my head, masturbating, bringing myself to pleasure. You always know the right things to say to get me so wet and juicy. You have no idea how many nights I laid awake in my bunk, playing with myself.”
