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“Whatever, nigga,” I say, laughin’ wit’ him.
“Just let me know how much the shit’s gonna run us.”
“Aiight, lata.”
“One,” I say, endin’ the call. I look over at Vita. Watch her maneuver her way through traffic. On some real shit, I’m impressed wit’ her road skills. Still, she reminds me of Mrs. Potato Head. I unzip my jeans, then pull my dick through the slit of my Polo boxer briefs. She snaps her neck in my direction, and glances at my dick. “You think you can handle this?” I ask, slowly strokin’ it.
She shifts her eyes from me to the road, then back to my dick, then back to the road in front of her. “Are you kidding? Of course I can handle that.” She glances at this snake again. I grin, knowin’ damn well she’s gonna change her tune the minute this sleepin’ giant awakens. She tries to keep her eyes on the road.
“You sure ’bout that?”
She doesn’t answer the question. I smile, continue stretchin’ my dick out. “Why you sitting there playing with your dick, teasing me?”
“’Cause I want you to see exactly what you gonna be gettin’ all week before we get to ya spot.” I continue to jerk it until it gets long and thick. She does a double-take, and her eyes pop open.
“Oh, shit,” she says, swervin’ from one lane to the other.
I laugh. “Damn, this dick got you tryna run off the road ’n shit. Relax, baby. Ain’t no need to try ’n kill us. I ain’t gonna hurt you wit’ this pipe. But if you scared, say you scared.”
“I’m not scared,” she says. “Look at me. I’ve been faced with plenty of challenges all my life, and I’ve overcome all of them.”
I laugh. “Oh, so you see takin’ this dick as a challenge, huh?”
“No. I see it more as an adventure.”
“Adventure, eh?” I grin. “Yo, I like that. So, you gonna handle this dick?”
She swallows hard. “Umm, I’m gonna sure do my best. It’s been a long time. Just make sure you take it slow, and not try to ram it in me.”
“Oh, not to worry, baby,” I say, pumpin’ my dick in my hand. When I’m finished wit’ ya dumb ass, you gonna be runnin’ ’round in the middle of the day wit’ a flashlight in ya hand, lookin’ for some more of this dick. I stop myself from spittin’ all over her dashboard and windshield, wait for my dick to go down, then stuff it back in my boxers. I zip my pants up. “I got nuthin’ but time. I’ma inch this long dick up in you nice ’n slow.”
10
Yo, e’erything up in this chick’s spot is top-of-the-line shit. Word up. I peep the Sony fifty-two-inch flat-screen wit’ Bose surround sound and the Italian leather sofa set. Her spot is clean and smells fresh. I guess I expected her ass to live in a dollhouse wit’ a buncha tiny-ass furniture ’n shit. But, I gotta give it to her, chick got some flava.
After she takes her shoes off at the door, she gives me the grand tour of the downstairs, then upstairs. I take it all in, really impressed. When she’s done showin’ me around, I follow her back down the sta
irs, watchin’ how she maneuvers herself down each step, slidin’ down one step at a time. For some reason, I feel like scoopin’ her up under my arm like a puppy and walkin’ her ass down, but I check myself. “Can I get you something to drink? Water, juice, or I have something a little stronger, if you like.”
I hear Jamie Foxx’s “Blame It” in my head. A nigga like me ain’t never had to blame shit I do on alcohol, feel me? Fuck that “I was drunk” shit. If I fuck a bitch, I’m dickin’ her knowin’ exactly what I’m doin’ and who I’m doin’ it to. “I don’t drink,” I say, takin’ a seat on the sofa. “You got any bottled water?”
“Sure. Make yourself comfortable while I get it. I hope you don’t mind if I fix myself a cocktail. It’s my vacation, and I like to get nice whenever I can.”
“Do you, baby,” I say, sittin’ back on the sofa. She goes off into the kitchen, and I hear cabinets openin’ and closin’ and a buncha stirrin’ ’round. My cell rings. It’s Shavron. Another Myspace freak I met ’bout six months ago. The last time I hit her wit’ some dick was a few weeks ago, and the bitch’s been sweatin’ me for another fix. “Yo, baby, what’s good wit’ you?” I ask, lowerin’ my voice so Minnie Mouse doesn’t hear.
“When I’ma see you?” she asks, soundin’ like she got a lil’ attitude or some shit. “Seems like you tryna avoid me or something.” I grin. Yeah, this bitch’s real tight wit’ a muhfucka.
“Why you say that?”
“’Cause ever since I gave you some pussy, you acting like you ain’t beat.”
Uh, that’s’cause I ain’t. The bitch’s pussy don’t stay wet ’nough for me. I mean, the shit’s big and can fit this dick up in it, but it’s not gushy. A muhfucka like me likes a real juicy pussy sloshin’ my dick up when I’m strokin’ it. Not that dry shit she be servin’ up. The last time I fucked her, it felt like I had my dick wrapped in sandpaper. Had my shit raw for two days. But I know her dumb ass is feenin’ for some more of this dick. And I know if I slay her ass just right, she’s gonna be comin’ up offa them child support checks. The ho got four kids by three different muhfuckas. And I bet the bitch think I’ma be her next baby daddy. She already actin’ like she wanna get this dick naked. “Nah, baby, it ain’t nuthin’ like that. I been kinda stressed lately. Gotta lot on my plate ’n shit.”
“Well, I still wanna see you.”
Damn, I tell this ho that I been kinda stressed, and her selfish ass ain’t even ask if a muhfucka’s okay ’n shit. Didn’t think to ask if there’s anything her dumb-ass can do. All she worried ’bout is how she can get at this dick. And then muhfuckas wonder why I drag these bitches. “Oh, you miss me, huh?”
“Something like that.”
