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“I wanna know why the fuck you avoiding me ’n shit.”
I let out a deep breath. “I told you, I’m not beat.”
“So what you sayin’? You ain’t fucking with me now?” she asks, soundin’ all pitiful ’n shit. It just amazes me how a bitch will be on some tough-girl-type shit, but the minute she knows she ’bout to lose out on some good dick, she wanna be on some ole other shit.
“Basically.”
“Hmmph. So you gonna let that one incident come between us?”
Come between us? Obviously, this fuckin’ hood-rat bitch really thinks I give a fuck ’bout her spazzin’ out ’n shit. Truth of the matter is her dick time expired. Anytime a bitch is talkin’ more shit than she’s puttin’ out pussy and loot, it’s time to revoke her dick-ridin’ card. And that’s what it is. “You still haven’t said why you keep callin’ me,” I say, dismissin’ her question.
“’Cause I wanna see you, nigga. That’s why. But you acting like a real bitch ’n shit.”
I laugh. “Go ’head wit’ that dumb shit.”
“Whatever, muhfucka. When you comin’ through?”
I laugh, knowin’ this ho’s pussy’s achin’ for this thick chocolate to melt up in it. “So, you tryna suck on this dick? Fuck, what?”
“Yeah, nigga. All the above. Ain’t nothing changed.”
“Whatever, yo.”
“Oh, shit’s changed with us?”
“Check this out,” I say, sighin’. “There is no us. Never was, never will be. What part of the memo don’t you get? I ain’t fuckin’ wit’ ya smart ass. You always comin’ outta ya neck crooked ’n shit. So ’til you know howta talk to a muhfucka, you gets no more of this dick. Ya ass is on punishment.”
She laughs. “Punishment? Are you fucking serious? Nigga, please! Don’t think your dick is th
e only dick out here.”
What a fuckin’ smut! “Yeah, you right. It ain’t the only dick out there. And it’s probably not the only dick you got ya dick suckas wrapped ’round. But it’s the only dick ya dumb-ass keeps callin’ for. It’s the only dick that’s got you cryin’ e’erytime I finish beatin’ that pussy up.”
“Whatever.”
“Oh, so what you sayin’; this dick didn’t have you shakin’ and cryin’ the last time I fucked you?”
She sucks her teeth. “I hate ya black ass, nigga. You are so full of yourself.”
I laugh. “Yeah, yeah, yeah…Keep it gee, baby. You ain’t gotta front wit’ me. It is what it is.” I hear the shower stop. Hear Vita swing back the shower curtain. “Look, I gotta bounce.”
“Whatever. Am I gonna see you, or what? Damn.”
I grin, knowin’ if I decide to slay her ghetto ass, again, I’ma shred her muthafuckin’ hole to pieces for bein’ such a fucked-up bitch. “Maybe, maybe not. I—”
“Nigga, kiss my ass then,” she snaps, cuttin’ me off. “I’m not gonna beg ya black ass. You got the game fucked up, if you think I’m that pressed for some dick.”
I bust out laughin’.
“What the fuck’s so funny?”
“Your trick-ass,” I say, still crackin’ the hell up. “You talkin’ like you a real dime; like you gotta line of niggas pressin’ you for some of that raggedy-ass pussy. Fuck outta here!”
“Nigga, please. Your black ass can think what you want. But know this: I was getting it in before you, and I’ll be getting it in after you. So having a muhfucka come through and serve me some dick will never be a problem.”
I continue laughin’. “Whatever, ho. We both know ya ass’ll be blowin’ my muthafuckin’ line up again, tryna get ya back split ’cause ya dizzy ass can’t get enough of this long, black dick.”
“Fuck you, nigga.”
