AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Lynn’s,” he tells me.
Lynn’s his younger sister; a cutie wit’ a juicy bootie. She’s also a real hot-box. And, of course, I thrashed it a few times on the low. I dicked her upside down and inside out; gave her pussy a beatdown she’d never experienced before. Not once, not twice, but at least a dozen times before her dumb ass started actin’ like she wanted to chain a muhfucka down. So she got dismissed. But she got mad props for keepin’ her cum-guzzler shut ’bout our epps.
“Yo,” I say to Glenn, “let
that nigga know I’ma be through ’round nine-fifteen.”
“Aiight, bet. See you cats later.”
“One.”
At nine-thirty I text Ron to let ’im know I’m ’round the corner and to be at the door ready to roll. The minute I turn onto his sister’s street, a bright-ass porch light flips on, and I see him comin’ out the door. He’s rockin’ a slick brown leather blazer over a brown pullover wit’ his signature platinum and diamond fist danglin’ from a platinum chain. The nigga’s neck is practically glowin’ from the lights hittin’ hit. And he has his brown Negro Leagues fitted cap cocked to the side. I pull up to the curb, unlockin’ the door. As soon as he opens the door, I can smell the combination of leather and cologne way before he gets his ass in the car. He smells like he practically washed himself in a whole bottle of Dolce & Gabbana.
The minute he shuts the door, I say, “Damn, muhfucka. What’d you do, bathe in that shit?”
“Nah,” he says, fastenin’ his seatbelt. He reaches over and gives me a brotherly pound. “What’s good?”
“Shit,” I say, pullin’ off, makin’ my way toward I-280 East. I crack the front windows before the muhfucka suffocates me wit’ all them smells goin’ on. “What’s been up wit’ you?”
He sighs, placin’ his head back on the headrest. “Not much man. Same shit, different day. Or should I say, same shit, different broad.”
“I hear you, man. You ’n ya peoples at it again.”
“Man, listen. E’ery week it’s some shit wit’ her ass.” I nod knowin’ly; but don’t say shit ’cause I know he’s gonna fill me in. “She started spazzin’ the fuck out last night over some dumb shit, and poured bleach all over my shit. Shoes, boots, sneakers, clothes, you name it. She straight housed my shit.”
“Get the fuck outta here! You for real?”
“I’m dead-ass. She fucked up all my shit, man. Jewelry, watches, you name it—trashed! The only shit I have is what’s on my back. And then she took all my fuckin’ money outta the bank. I had to borrow money from my sister, so I could at least have some clean muthafuckin’ drawers ’n shit to put on.”
See, this is the kinda shit I’m talkin’ ’bout. And it’s exactly another reason why I don’t be fuckin’ beat to be in a relationship. Bitches always wanna fuck a muhfucka’s shit up when her ass starts feelin’ some kinda way ’bout shit. Then after she done finished fuckin’ up all ya wears ’n shit, she puts ya dumb ass out. But I’m not surprised. Like I said earlier, he fucks wit’ a buncha unstable bitches. It’s like he has a magnet for emotionally unbalanced broads. I listen to him go on and on ’bout he’s gettin’ tired of her shit, blah, blah, blah. Then he sits here and tells me she locked him outta a spot that he pays the rent to, but the shits in her name. I look at dude like he’s crazy. I feel like sayin’, “You stupid bitch-ass nigga! What the fuck you doin’ havin’ a muthafuckin’ joint bank account wit’ a ho you ain’t even married to?” But I’ma leave it alone ’cause there ain’t shit he can say that’s gonna make an ounce of sense to a muhfucka like me. All I can say is: I wish the fuck I would! What a retard! I’m startin’ to think this nigga likes bein’ abused ’n shit. I shake my head.
“So whatchu do this time?”
“Man, nuthin’. She be on her bullshit, listenin’ to them fuckin’ crab-ass bitches she fucks wit’, lettin’ that shit they put in her ear go to her head.”
“What kinda shit?” I ask, already knowin’ this nigga stays caught up in craziness.
“All kinda dumb shit. Them bitches all up on my dick instead of havin’ their busted asses somewhere gettin’ fucked. Hell, if they had some dick in their lives they wouldn’t have so much time worryin’ ’bout what the fuck I’m doin’ wit’ mine.”
I impatiently drum my fingers on the steerin’ wheel. “Muhfucka, what the hell you do?”
“I was at this spot in Paramus winin’ ’n dinin’ this shorty, and one of ole girl’s nosey-ass friends saw me and ratted me out.”
“Nah, nigga, that ain’t enough for a bitch to house ya shit. I know you. What’d you do? Keep it gee.”
“I stayed out all night…”
“And you didn’t answer ya phone,” I finish for him.
“Yeah, somethin’ like that.”
“Nigga, you dumb as hell. You know you livin’ wit’ ole girl, so how the hell you gonna stay out all night and not answer ya cell?”
“Actually, it was two nights.”
“Two nights? And you didn’t answer ya shit. Oh yeah, muhfucka, you knew you had it comin’. Then you probably stumbled up in there smellin’ like pussy. Nigga, you was askin’ for shit to pop off.”
“I ain’t beat. She’ll get over it.”
