Daddy Long Stroke (13 page)

I lean in closer. “Yo, that shit is bangin'.”

“Thank you. It's one of my favorites.”

“Oh, word,” I say, eyein' her and lickin' my lips. “Yo, that shit can get a nigga in some serious trouble, word up. Have me wantin' to eat you up all night.”

She giggles. “I like the sound of that.”

Yeah, I bet you do
.

 11 

“So when's the last time you had some dick in ya life?” I ask as she puts her glass to her lips. She coughs, chokin'. It takes her a minute to catch her breath. “Yo, you aiight, ma?” She nods, holdin' her chest. “OhmyGod, you real direct, I see.”

“That's the only way to be, don't you think?”

“Yeah, I guess. But I think in most situations using tact is best.”

Tact?
I almost wanna laugh in her big-ass face. This trick got a muhfucka she met for the first time offa Myspace stayin' at her spot, and she talkin' 'bout usin' some muthafuckin' tact. Not to mention, the bitch
lied
to a nigga; got me out here under false pretenses. What the fuck? Fraudulent bitch! I'ma give her tact aiight, when I tack this dick down in her tight-ass throat.

“Well, check this out. I don't know nuthin' 'bout tact, so answer the question. When's the last time you swallowed a dick?”

She gulps down her drink, almost chokin'. “Six months ago.”

I smirk. This ho done forgot she told me online she hadn't had dick in over a year. Now she sayin' “six months ago.” On some real shit, I don't give a fuck one way or the other. I just love catchin' these bitches in lies. I let it go. “Oh, word. I bet that pussy extra tight, too.” She nods, sippin' her drink. “So, did he fuck you good?”

“It was okay, I guess. I don't really remember.”

Now how the fuck a bitch gonna let a nigga run up in her and she don't remember if the muhfucka hit that shit right? Either this ho was blitzed outta her mind, or the nigga's dick game was mad whack. She catches how I'm lookin' at her and laughs.

“We were both so drunk. That whole night was one big blur.”

“So you let 'im bust that shit down raw?” I ask.

She rapidly shakes her head. “Hell no! I don't play that.”

“Well, you were fucked up, so how you know if he did or didn't?” I wait for this ho's response. 'Cause you know as well as I do that if ya ass is ripped the fuck up 'n horny, neither one of ya asses is thinkin' 'bout wrappin' the hell up. You just tryna get it off. So nine times outta ten, a nigga goin' in that pussy straight naked and she's spreadin' them legs takin' it all in. Then, when the shit is all said and done, muhfuckas start stressin' hopin' they didn't catch shit they can't get rid of.

“You right,” is all the bitch says. And it's all I need to hear.

“So why you don't have a man?”

She shrugs. “I really haven't been looking, besides most men seem to have a complex being seen out in public with me. They'll be okay with coming by late at night for a booty call, but that's it. Sometimes I want more than just sex.”

As fucked up as it is, I can relate how them other muhfuckas mighta been feelin'. 'Cause on some real shit, I don't know if I wanna be out in public wit' her ass either. I know it's fucked up, but I'm keepin' shit real. I mean, she seems cool 'n all, but I ain't really beat to be out 'n about wit' her like that. Not tonight, anyway. But tomorrow I might feel differently after I done fucked her down a few times. Or better yet, after I've blazed a few trees.

“So, you want a man?”

“I want companionship. Sometimes I get lonely and just want someone to hold me, and to know that I can count on him to always have my back and be real with me.”

I shake my head, thinkin',
Here we go wit' this shit
. I glance at my watch. It's almost seven-thirty. I take a deep breath. Allow Usher's “Love You Gently” to fill the room. Under different
circumstances and wit' a different type of chick, a nigga's dick would already be brick and I'd be dickin' her down. “I feel you, ma. Some niggas just gonna play you out. Take what they can from you, then bounce. You need to be careful who you open ya heart and legs to, that's all. You just gotta keep ya head up, baby. And know all muhfuckas ain't fucked up like that.”

“I know.” She takes another sip of her drink, starin' at me. She tilts her head. “Are you fucked up like that?”

Hell yeah, bitch! Fall for a nigga like me, I'ma become ya worse muthafuckin' nightmare
. I shake my head. “Nah, pretty baby, I ain't the one. I'ma real nigga.”

“So, what are you lookin' for?”

“You mean now?”

“Yeah,” she says, sippin' her drink, then sittin' it down on the coffee table, “now and in the future.”

I look her dead in the eyes. “On some real shit, I ain't lookin' for no extras right now. Just some good, hot, wet pussy. And a nice, slow dick suck wit' no strings, and no muthafuckin' stress.”

“And what about later?”

“Some more pussy.”

She nods. “I appreciate your honesty.”

“It's what I do, baby girl. And, just so you know. I may not be ya man, but while I'm here chillin' wit' ya, I'ma fuck you like I am.”

She smiles, gettin' up. “Excuse me for one minute.” I watch her walk back into her office, then shut the door. For a split second, I start thinkin' the lonely bitch went in there to cry. But I don't put too much energy into it. I check my cell for any messages instead. There are ten.

“Hey, baby, it's Akina. I didn't want nothin'. Was just thinkin' 'bout you, and wanted to make sure everything was okay with ya grandmother. Give me a call when you can.”

Delete.

“Alley Cat, you ain't shit, nigga. You can't even be man enough to tell a bitch to her face you ain't beat no more. That's real fucked up, nigga. But, it's all good. And in case you don't know who the fuck this is. It's Sherria. You know. The bitch who gave you her heart and you just fucked it over. I want my fuckin' house keys back.”
Bitch, change ya muthafuckin' locks.

Delete.

“What's good with you, sexy? This's Rachel. When you comin' back down to Tampa? I could definitely use another hit of that good stuff. Give me a call when you get a chance.” I press seven to save.

“Hey, big daaaaady, it's Cherry. I miss you, baby. It's been three months toooooo long. When you comin' back to L.A.? My pussy is achin' for you. I wanna see you, soon. Give me a call so we can make it happen.”

Save.
Now, this bitch right here, is a real live dick rider. I smile, rememberin' my last visit wit' her freaky ass. She had a nigga out there for almost a week, fuckin' me e'ery which way. Damn, she got some good-ass pussy. The bitch can't suck dick for shit, but she ain't scared of takin' it. And she even likes it in that big ass of hers. Man, listen…this bitch's asshole is as wide as the Grand Canyon, and handles a dick better than most pussies. Whew! When I finally bounced from her spot, I left up outta there wit' a certified bank check for ten grand. Yeah, a nigga's definitely tryna check for her, again.

“Hey, big daddy. It's Ramona. I miss you soooo much, baby. I can't take this shit. I want some more of that good dick, baby. It's killing me not being with you. Pleeeeeeaaaaase call me as soon as you get this.” She leaves two more messages.

Delete. Delete. Delete.
This bitch is too clingy. And a potential
hazard. I fucked her—three months ago—e'ery day for a week, and the bitch talkin' 'bout she's in love wit' a muhfucka. Bitch, is you serious?!? I told this ho from dip not to go there, and she does anyway. So, hell no! No more dick for her nutty-ass.

“Hey, Alex. It's Falani. Call me when you get a chance. My night with you had me in the hospital for two days in pain. You knocked my uterus off its hinges”—she laughs—“I'm laughing, but I'm serious. The doctors said my uterus has been bruised. Now I'm on bedrest and medicine. Anywaaay, I hope all is well. Give me a call when you can. I'd like to see you again for another dose.”

Delete.
I shake my head.
That stupid bitch is crazy
. I done gouged up her uterus and she still tryna get at me. Man, listen. She can keep fuckin' wit' me if she wants. But, I ain't tryna be responsible when her greedy ass ends up havin' her insides pulled out for fuckin' this big dick.

“Hey, baby, it's Carla. I'm ready to suck that big-ass dick 'til I choke. Holla atcha girl when you can. I'm horny as fuck. A bitch tryna ride that dick and fuck ya fine-ass to sleep.”

I laugh at her cum-thirsty ass, then listen to the last message from Tamia's nut-ass. The bitch is still screamin' 'bout me iggin' her retarded ass.
Delete
.

Vita walks back into the room. I squint, tryna see what the fuck she got on. The bitch changed her clothes, and is now wearin' a lil' sheer slip dress. She looks like a dressed-up Cabbage Patch doll. I shake my head. For some reason, her eyes are wide as saucers and make her look like a fly, nah…fuck that, a prayin' mantis. I frown, watchin' her as she pours another shot of Patròn, then tosses it back.

“Aaaaah,” she says, shakin' her head. She sits on the floor. “Whew, this stuff here gets me right.”

“Mmmph.” I'm feelin' myself gettin' restless. I'm ready to get this dick wet. “So, dig, what else you like to do besides drink?”

“Well, I like to just chill out and listen to music. And every now and then I like to get my high on.”

Trees? Oh, shit. That's the fuck what I'm talkin' 'bout.
Now, the bitch's talkin' my language. I grin. “Oh, word. You get lit?”

“Sometimes. But not that often because of my job, why? You indulge?”

Oh, aiight. This bitch might not be half bad after all
, I think. “Hell muthafuckin' yeah,” I say excitedly.

She smiles. “Oh, cool. I got some. You wanna do a little something?”

“As long as you got that good shit, no doubt.”

“I only buy the best. I woulda asked you earlier, but I didn't know how you rolled.”

I laugh. “Oh, I roll 'em thick, baby. So, wassup? We blazin' or what?”

It almost looks like this bitch is startin' to salivate. She jumps up outta her seat. And on some real shit, I'm practically feenin' myself. “Follow me,” she says.

I get up and follow her into her office. It's laced wit' a computer, sofa, stereo and another flat-screen TV. I take a seat on the sofa, watchin' her go into the closet, then roll out some type of mini servin' cart. She rolls the shit over to where I'm sittin'. There are two wooden boxes on it. She lifts the lids up offa 'em.

“Whatever your pleasure; help yourself, baby.”

A nigga looks, then blinks.
Oh, shit!
This bitch got weed
and
coke. Now, I'll smoke all muthafuckin' day and night, but a muhfucka ain't fuckin' wit' nuthin' else. And I ain't really beat to fuck wit' no bitch who does either. But, I'm here now. And a muhfucka ain't bouncin' 'til she breaks me off some paper, or laces me wit' some wears. And that's what it is.

“Yo, I don't fuck wit' no coke, baby. But, I'll smoke ya trees up, real talk.”

“You can smoke all you want. I only sniff.”

I only sniff?
Yeah, right. Lyin'-ass bitch.
“Do you, baby,” I say, grabbin' a fat-ass blunt already rolled tighter than a buffalo's ass. I take the lighter from offa the cart, then spark up. As I pull in smoke, I watch this ho take a razor, make a neat line of coke, then snort the shit up in one long-ass sniff.
Oh, hell yeah. I'ma take this coke-snortin' bird straight through the wringer. Word is bond. This ho is a real live junkie bitch.

I blow out weed smoke, then take another hit straight to the head. It ain't the kinda top-of-the- line shit I'm used to, but it'll do. This lil' pumpkin-head ho does another line, then goes out into the livin' room and comes back wit' the bottle of Patròn. She sits on the floor and stares at me. Her eyes start dartin' 'round the room, and she's sniffin' like she's got a bucket of snot rammed up in her nose. The bitch is skeed the fuck up.