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“Where you at?”
“In my bunk,” he says in almost a whisper. “I got my locker door blocking me. I wanna bust this nut, baby.”
I smile. “You got your dick out?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let’s do it, Daddy.” I cut off my night lamp, then begin removing my panties. I toss them across the room. “I’m sticking my hand in between my thighs, rubbing my clit while I’m on my knees sucking your big-ass dick, baby…you like that?”
“Ah, shit, yeah…you gonna let me taste that pussy?”
I moan. Then for the next twenty minutes, Jasper and I go back and forth, moaning and groaning and talking nasty shit to each other until we both cum all over ourselves; me all over my fingers, him on his chest and stomach. I clutch the phone to my ear, breathing heavy into his ear.
“Damn, baby…that was good,” Jasper says, catching his breath as well. “Yo, my shit is still hard. I need to be way up in that pussy, yo.”
“I need you up in it, too.” I glance over at the clock. 2:42 A.M. Fuck! I yawn, feeling sleep coming down on me. “But I need to go to sleep now. I’
m exhausted.”
“I feel you; me too. Good night, baby. Love you.”
“I love you, too, Jasper.” We hang up. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep with no other thoughts of sucking dick—for now.
TWENTY-TWO
The following morning, I wake up late and wrong. It’s almost eight o’clock. And I have to be at the shop by ten. I have six appointments scheduled today, back to back, starting at ten. I race around the house, trying to get myself ready. I jump in the shower, wash the snatch real good, then hop out.
Thirty minutes later, I’m peeling out of my driveway. As I’m turning out of my development, my cell rings. I pull it from out of my bag, then glance at the screen. It’s Mona. “Hey, girl,” I say, pressing on the Bluetooth connection.
“Pasha, girl, is everything okay? I heard what happened down at the shop. Stax told Sparks. And you know how his ass can’t keep shit to himself.”
I laugh, knowingly. “Yeah, everything’s good. Thanks. The police, of course, still haven’t found the motherfucker who did me in. But it’s all good.”
“Hmmph, figures. Were you able to see what he looked like?”
“Not really,” I tell her. “One of the customers caught a glimpse of him, but it wasn’t enough for an accurate description of him.” I tell her he was brown-skinned and wearing a hoodie and a pair of baggy blue jeans. “So, in a nutshell, with no fingerprints and no concrete description to go on, the police still have no leads.”
She laughs. “Chile, that description fits half the nigga’s in the hood.”
I laugh with her. “Girl, you ain’t never lied about that. I only hope they catch this kook before his nutty ass does something else.” Shit, shit, shit, I say to myself, realizing I’ve said more than I should have. Mona picks up on this and doesn’t miss a beat.
“Wait, what do you mean ’before he does something else’? Are you trying to tell me he’s done some other shit besides smashing out the shop’s window? Do you know this nigga?”
“Oh no, not at all,” I quickly state, trying to clean it up. I make a left turn onto Central Avenue. “All I’m saying is, with that nigga still lurking around there’s no telling who else’s property he’ll damage. And I don’t want his ass coming back to mine.”
“Mmm…yeah, you right. But, why the fuck would someone wanna smash out your window like that in broad daylight? That shit makes no sense to me.”
“Me either,” I say, regretting I ever answered this call.
“And the nigga didn’t even try to rob ya’ll.” She pauses. “Mmmph. Girl, you know like I do, anyone busting out windows is usually on some personal shit.”
I sigh, feeling a headache stirring. Mona has always been someone who doesn’t let too much shit get by her. If you ask me, she’s too damn smart for her own damn good sometimes. “Well, shit. I don’t know why. I haven’t done shit to anyone.”
“Girl, I’m talking about one of them stylists you got working up in there. Shit, as messy as Shuwanda is, who’s to say it’s not some nigga she done put on blast?”
I roll my eyes. OhmyGod, I need to change the subject, I think, before she keeps dragging this shit on. “Well, I hope not. Anyway, enough talk about that. Jasper and I set a wedding date,” I tell her, stopping at a red light.
She laughs. “Is this your version? ’Cause it definitely isn’t the story Jasper’s telling.”
