Slippery When Wet: A Novel (Zane Presents) (24 page)

I lean in and give her a kiss on the cheek. She says some other shit, but I done already started blocking her out. The only thing on my mind now is getting in my whip so I can finish stroking out the rest of this nut.

She blows me a kiss, then dances off as I make my way through the crowd and out the door.

•  •  •

“Yo, muhfucka,” my boi Prince says, taking two pulls off the blunt we just rolled, then passing it to me, “you stay stylin’, son.”

“Nah, my niggah, real shit,” I say laughing at her. It’s a little after twelve in the afternoon. We’re chilling at my crib, smoking a blunt and eating shrimp. And I just finished telling her what popped off down at the club last night. Prince and I been mad cool for like fifteen years, around the same time we both came out to our families. I was fifteen. She was like sixteen going on seventeen.

Anyway, it wasn’t really no surprise to my fam when I tol’ ’em I was gay since I stayed rockin’ baggy jeans, Timbs and wife beaters. And my ponytail stayed stuffed up under a fitted hat. Or I stayed posted up in a pair of baggy sweats and a hoodie and sneakers. I wasn’t beat for nothin’ girly. Give me a football or a basketball over some Barbie dolls and makeup and I was good.

My moms said she already knew it. Shit. I guess even if she didn’t already know, she woulda known for sure after walking in on me and seeing me rocking a pair of men’s boxers with a seven-inch dick hanging outta the flap of them.

I had been experimenting for a minute with harnesses and dildos, and had even started wearing them to school, which is what I was preparing to do the morning my moms walked in. For weeks, I’d been alternating from jock-style to thong-style harnesses tryna decide which one was really the most comfortable fit for me. I’d like them both, for different reason. And this particular day, I’d chosen the jock-style harness under my boxers.

I was standing in front of the mirror, my gaze fixed on my reflection, upward curved dick hanging outta the slit of my boxers, my hand gripped around it. I was standing there grinding it into my hand, imagining I was fucking some pussy. I was getting juicier by the minute as I stroked my thick black dick, the harness rubbing up against my clit. My legs were cocked open as I fucked my hand. I let out a deep moan as I bust my nut.

Moms walked in on me jackin’ off. Her eyes popped open in shock. She quickly shut the door, leaving me with my silicone dick in my hand. I was mad spooked that she had caught me with my dick hanging out. She ain’t say shit ’bout what she saw as I eased outta the crib for school. The only thing she did say—well, actually it was a question—later that night when she got in from work is, “Is there something you wanna tell me?”

I shrugged at first, still embarrassed.

Then she added, “Regina, I’m going to always love you, no matter what.”

But she stayed looking at me all crazy-like until I said, “Mom, this is who I am.”

“And who are you, Regina?”

“Not Regina,” I answered, feeling myself getting choked up. I had tried to pretend, tried to cover up who I was, who I felt I was, behind awkward moments attempting to date boys and hang with giggling, silly-ass girls. But that wasn’t me. What she saw was. “Regina’s dead to me, Ma.”

She narrowed her eyes, absorbing the weight of what I had told her. “Well, if my daughter’s dead, then who the hell am I standing here looking at?”

“Reggie.”

Moms stood there, staring at me, hard. Then before I knew it, she broke down and cried, walking over and pulling me into her arms. And that night we cried together. In that moment, layers of shame and guilt for hiding who I was were shed. And for the first time in my young life, I felt lighter and free.

I didn’t have to hide in secrecy.

Didn’t have to live in shame.

My moms loved me. She accepted me.

Prince’s mom, on the other hand, wasn’t having it. She called her all kinda
bull-dagging, dyke
bitches and told her to get the fuck outta her crib ’cause she wasn’t having no
gay bitch
living up under her roof. She told Prince she needed prayer as she literally threw all her shit out the door. Prince ended up sleeping on the streets for almost two weeks until she swallowed her pride and asked if she could crash at my crib. She ain’t have nowhere else to turn. And there was no way I could turn my back on her. So I brought her home with me, asked my moms if it was cool if she stayed with us—which it was. And from that moment on, we’ve been mad tight, like brothers. Real shit, I got mad luv for her. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. Or her for me.

Shit, we’ve fucked mad bitches together. Even ran a few trains on a few tricks. Prince is my dawg, for life, yo.

I eye her. “Yo, you know I don’t ever front on my dick game.”

“True that. I ain’t gonna front, son. You be gettin’ it in. But, yo, fuckin’ a straight bitch in a straight club, in the middle of the dance floor…sounds like a damn dream.”

“On e’erything, fam, I fucked that sexy bitch in the club. And, word is bond, yo. She had some juicy-ass pussy, son. I was fingerin’ that shit ‘n’ e’erything, yo.”

She grins, rubbing her chin. “Word? It was like that?”

“Hellz yeah. I told you she was sexy as fuck, yo. I was all up in that shit, son. I had her up on that dance floor giving her this dick real good. Afterwards, I ain’t even gonna front. I wanted to bend her over ‘n’ tongue all up in that gushy shit.” I take a pull from the blunt. She’s looking at me wide-eyed with her jaw dropped. “I tol’ you I was gonna hit that shit, yo. Didn’t I?” I blow out a cloud of thick smoke, then take another pull.

I had told Prince about her the first night I peeped her, and was dead-ass ’bout getting at her, even though she tried to tell me I should at least let her know that I was a stud and not a real niggah if I was gonna step to her and try to get her to peel them drawers off. I wasn’t tryna hear it though. My mind was already made up. I was going back to the club and was gonna holla at her. And telling her who, or what, I was wasn’t in the cards. I just didn’t think I’d be fucking her in the club, on the dance floor. Yo, that was some wild-ass shit. That broad’s a real live freak. I’m still trippin’ off that shit.

Prince grins, giving me a pound. “No doubt. You def said you was gonna smash that. Yo, my niggah, you a beast, yo. Word is bond. I can’t even style on you, son.” She reaches out her balled fist for another pound. “You stay baggin’ them straight hoes.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know how ya ugly ass be doin’ it, though.”

I give her the finger. “Fuck outta here, muhfucka. I’m fine as fuck, yo. Front if you want. You already know what it is, niggah.”

She laughs again. “You know I’m only fuckin’ wit’ you, yo. I know ya rap game is sick. But, real shit, fam. That shit you be doin’ trickin’ them straight chicks is…”

“Yo, hol’ up, fam, be clear. I don’t be trickin’ them chicks.” She raises a brow, shooting me a “fuck outta here” look. “Aiight, so I don’t tell ’em. It’s not like they be asking me if I’m a real niggah, or not. So why should I volunteer the info. If I can get away wit’ it, why not? It ain’t like I’m hurting anyone. Shit, they see what they see, and like what they see. And nine times outta ten they want what they see.”

“Correction, fam. They want what they
think
they see. A real muhfucka with a real dick that can spit a real nut, not a stud muhfucka with a strap-on frontin’.”

I shrug. “Then maybe they should ask, first.”

“Niggah, you crazy. Why the fuck would they think to ask some shit like that when you look like a straight-up muhfucka wit’ ya flat-chested ass. I hate yo’ ugly ass.”

I crack up laughing at that shit. She hates the fact that she has double-D’s, and there ain’t shit she can do to hide them muhfuckas. They ain’t going nowhere. “Yo, fuck outta here, muhfucka. Don’t hate”—I run the palm of my hands over the front of my shirt—“ ’cause my shit’s all chiseled up, and you”—I reach over and flick her right breast—“all flab, muhfucka.”

She punches my arm. Then flexes her biceps. “But I hit hard, niggah. And, what? Point is, you still shouldn’t play games like that, yo. You know I got nothin’ but love for you, but”—she shakes her head—“that shit you doin’ is fucked up.”

I frown. “Yo, how is you gonna fuckin’ judge me, fam, when you stay trickin’ ya paper up on bitches? You don’t see me callin’
you out on how you stay tryna wife up them stripper hoes, do you?”

“I ain’t judging you, fam. All I’m sayin’ is, maybe you should keep it a hunnid wit’ ’ them broads and let ’em know from the rip what they ’bout to get into. You know and I know, them broads ain’t gonna ask if you swingin’ a real dick or not when they be all liquored up.”

I tsk. “Suck my dick, muhfuka. Liquored up or not. They still wanna fuck. And I give it to ’em. So how’s that trickin’ them?”

“Niggah, you know what I’m sayin’.”

“Muhfucka, I don’t know shit. Hand me that blunt, and let’s move on.”

She shakes her head, taking two deep pulls, then passing it off. “A’ight, yo, justify it however you want. No matter how you cut it, you still deceivin’ them, yo.”

I take a long pull from the blunt, then pass it back to her. I blow smoke up, then inhale it back in through my nose. “Nah, like I said. I ain’t deceiving anyone. What I’m doin’ is keeping my dick wet. And putting some good dick and tongue in their lives…for the night, anyway. Shit, I don’t put a gun to none of them broads’ heads, forcing them to do nothing they don’t already wanna do. So it is what it is.”

“Aiight, slick ass, riddle me this: how many of them straight broads that you’ve already smashed do you think would have still given you the pussy if they woulda known you wasn’t no real niggah?”

I shrug. “Fuck if I know. Prolly half of ’em would still let me hit it, if for nothing else, solely on the strength of being curious. You know bitches stay sweatin’ us ’cause we look like straight-up, real-ass, sexy muhfuckas.”

I’ma keep it a hunnid. If I got down with Studs like that, Prince is def someone I’d holla at. At six feet, she’s sexy as fuck. Even wit’ them big-ass titties, she’s got a mad tight body from playing ball,
and stays laced in all the hot shit. And the chicks stay wanting to play all up in her long wavy hair, which she keeps in fresh cornrows.

She nods, rubbing her chin and grinning. “True, true. But the difference is, they know who we are. It ain’t no secret. We ain’t misleading them. And them broads still wanna get at us, especially the bi-curious ones. But going to a straight club, frontin’ like you a straight niggah ain’t cool, son.”

I frown, narrowing my eyes. “Yo, you already know what it is with me. So ain’t no use in you tryna beat me in the head ’bout it. You know ain’t shit changing. I’ma still do me. So you might as well save ya breath for that smoke ’cause I ain’t tryna hear it. So movin’ on, muhfucka.”

She laughs. “Yo, whatever. You still my niggah ‘n’ shit, but you know I still think that shit’s fucked up, yo. And I’ma keep sayin’ it. Real spit, son, you need to stop misleadin’ them straight broads before you end up gettin’ caught up in some crazy shit. Niggahs get bodied behind doin’ that dumb shit, yo.”

“Yo, fam, relax. I got this. Ain’t nobody gonna do shit over here, yo. You already know gettin’ shot at ain’t never pumped no fear in a muhfucka like me. You know I’ma do what I do, regardless.”

She shakes her head, reaching for the blunt. “Yeah, I know. But I still love you, wit’ ya punk-ass.”

I laugh. “Yo, fuck you, muhfucka. I got ya punk, aiight.”

She laughs with me. “Yo, you know you my, niggah, fam.”

“Yeah, right. I’m only ya niggah, greedy muhfucka, ’cause you stay tryna smoke up my shit. Pass me that blunt wit’ ya lil’-ass dick.”

She grabs her crotch. “Hahahaha, muhfucka, my shit’s bigger than yours.” She lifts her hips from her seat, pulls her sweats down over her hips, then reaches inside the opening of her striped boxers and pulls out her long chocolate dick. “Nine-inches niggah, and what?”

“Yo, son, you wildin’, yo. I ain’t tryna see all that. Put that shit away. You dead wrong, muhfucka. How ya yellow ass gonna have a dick five times darker than you?”

She gives me the finger. “Niggah, I ain’t yellow. I’m light-skinned.”

I crack up laughing. “And ya light-skinned ass still look like Big Bird, muhfucka. Hand me the blunt with ya tall, yellow ass.” She cracks up with me, taking another pull, then handing back what’s now practically a roach. We joke ‘n’ pop shit and smoke two more blunts before she gets a call from one’a her jump-offs and dips off for some pussy.

I light another blunt, smoke half of it, then start feeling kinda horny. I rub my dick over my jeans. I want some pussy, but I ain’t beat for none’a these broads around here. I pick up my cell and hit up one’a my out-of-state sidepieces, Kamisha. She’s a sexy lil chocolate dime I snatched up after a night of partying at this club in Atlanta a few months ago. She was checkin’ for me hard, diggin’ my swag and my Northern accent. And, of course, the bulge she peeped in my baggy jeans. And I was diggin’ her thick hips, tiny waist, and that big juicy ass she had stuffed inside a pair of faded jeans.

Yo, I saw it in her eyes. She wanted to fuck. And I was more than happy to serve her this dick. I got up in her ear, spit game at her, and bought her a few rounds of drinks. After three drinks in, I got her to come outside with me, where we ended up sitting in my rented SUV, talking. Then kissing. And, eventually…fucking.

Yo, I had this sexy chocolate bitch in the backseat of the truck I rented riding her ass nice and deep, her pussy around my condom-wrapped dick. Word is bond. She handled all eight inches with ease as I fucked her slowly at first, savoring the feel and warmth of her body. I bit the back of her neck as I stroked her
insides, making her moan—making myself moan as the base of my dick hit my clit. She pressed her hips back to meet my thrusts as I reached around her body and pressed on her slippery clit with two fingers. She reached back and grabbed my thigh, pulling me in closer as she worked her hot pussy on my dick.

She grunted. “Oh, God, this dick is good.”

“Yeah, you like that shit?” I whispered in her ear.

“Oh, fuck, yes…nice thick dick…mmmph…”