by Cairo
I stop, puttin’ a hand up in his face. “There is nothin’ else to discuss. I will take him home, you will suspend him for how many days, then he will return to school. And he will think twice before he ever pulls his goddamn dick out again.”
“See, that’s the part you wouldn’t let me finish. Principal Lewis wants to expel him.”
I tilt my head. “Expel him, for pullin’ out his dick? Are you serious?”
He nods. “I’m sorry. It’s considered gross sexual misconduct. Isaiah won’t be allowed back into school; at least not until there’s an evaluation done on him.
“An evaluation? My son doesn’t need a goddamn evaluation. What he needs is his black ass beat down to the white meat for pullin’ some stunt like that.”
“We’re concerned that Isaiah might have learned this kind of behavior from . . . ” He looks away.
“Say it, bitch,” I snap, shiftin’ my handbag from one hand to the other. I feel like swingin’ it upside his goddamn head. “You think he learned pullin’ his dick out from who, me?”
“No, no, I’m not suggesting that. But he had to learn it somewhere.”
“Oh, I know you’re not suggestin’ he learned it from me ’cause you already know what’s between my legs. And it ain’t no damn dick. So suspend him for the rest of the week, then allow his ass back in school next week.”
“My hands are tied.”
“Well, you better untie them,” I hiss. “Let the bitch try it and I’ma tear into her asshole and yours. And I mean it, Wiggins. Now try me.”
I’ma beat the shit outta Isaiah! “Now let’s go inside and handle this. And, no, I’m not gonna tear your damn office up like I did last year, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
He chuckles nervously. “Will we need to call the police or DYFS?”
“You can call whoever you want.”
As soon as we step into the school’s entrance I make a beeline into the principal’s office. Her dick suckin’ secretary, Rebecca—a short, stumpy bitch with extra big titties and a wide ass, quickly hangs up the phone when she’s sees me. Wiggins tells me he’s goin’ to get Isaiah and bring him down to the office. “Yeah, you do that.”
“Oh. Hello, Miss Simms,” Becky the Cock Bobber says, pastin’ a phony-ass smile on her face. “Is Principal Lewis expecting you?”
I sneer at her frog-eyed self. “No, the bitch ain’t expectin’ me. She’s hidin’ from me, I’m sure. Call her and let her know I’m here to see her and I’m not leavin’ until I do.”
She buzzes her office. “Hi. Miss Simms is requesting to speak with you. . . . No, you have a two and a three o’clock . . . no, she said she wants to see you now . . . okay . . . ”
She hangs up. “Principal Lewis said she’ll be out in a minute.”
I roll my eyes.
It takes the bitch almost seven minutes to come out of her office, wearin’ a beige pencil skirt with a matchin’ blazer over a pale pink V-neck blouse. I eye her shoes. Four-inch leather Gucci pumps. She parts her dick-suckin’ lips into a wide, phony smile.
“Hello, Miss Simms. It’s always a pleasure.”
“Girl, stop with the lies.”
She blinks. “Okay, then how can I help you?”
“Ummm, Principal Lewis,” Cock Bobber says, cuttin’ her eyes at me. “Should I have Mister Wiggins paged?”
She looks from me to Cock Bobber. “No. I’m sure this won’t take long. What can I do for you, Miss Simms?”
I plop my handbag up on the counter. “What is this shit about you wantin’ to expel my son from school? You must really wanna see me set it off up in here, don’t you?”
“Miss Simms, that won’t be necessary. What Isaiah did this morning was unacceptable and simply can’t be tolerated here.”
“LaQuandra,” I snap, rollin’ my eyes. “Cut the formalities with your phony ass.”
She looks over my shoulder, then cuts her eye over at Becky the Cock Bobber. “Miss Simms, I won’t tolerate profanity from you. If you wish to speak to me about your son’s behaviors, then fine. But I will not allow you to be verbally assaultive to me.”
I huff. “Ho, when I assault you, you’ll know.”
She sighs, shakin’ her head. “Okay, that’s it. I see some things never change. You’re still making threats and always looking for a fight. Well, save it. I’m not moved by your hood tactics. Isaiah is being suspended, following a review hearing.”
I give her an incredulous look. “A review hearin’ for what?”
She tilts her head. “To determine if he’s appropriate to return to this school or if he’s in need of somethin’ a bit more structured, and self-contained.”
Oh, this bitch is goin’ too far now! “Self-contained? Uh, Boo-Boo, what exactly are you tryna say?”
“I’ve already said it.”
I pull in my bottom lip, tryna keep from takin’ it to her damn face. “Well, say it again ’cause I’m not understandin’ what the fuck you’re tryna say.”
“Bottom line, Cassandra. I will not allow any form of gross conduct, be it sexual or otherwise, here at Eastside Charter.”
“Bitch, puhleeze. Gross conduct, my ass. You might have gone out and got you a few college degrees. And, yeah, you got ya’self some fancy clothes with a new nose job and ya ass and titties lifted, but you still the same old hoodrat bitch from the projects, LaQuaaaaaandra. You’ve always hated me, bitch. And now you wanna take it out on my son.”
She laughs. “You’re more delusional than I thought, Cassandra. The fact remains, you’re an unfit mother. And Isaiah is being expelled. Whether you believe it or not, I’m concerned for his well-being. We all are. Fact of the matter is if he’s learning that sort of lewd behavior at home, then I can only imagine what else he’s being exposed to there. Face it, Cassandra, you’re a bad influence. I don’t know why DYFS hasn’t taken those kids from you by now. You really need to give custody to—”
Before she can finish her sentence I rear my hand back and whop her upside her head, then punch her in the face. I’ve had enough of all this talkin’ back and forth. A bitch’s ready to fight!
“Aaaah! No the fuck you didn’t put your motherfuckin’ hands on me, tramp-ass bitch!”
Becky screams for assistance through the intercom, but it’s an ass-whoopin’ too late. LaQuandra and I start scrappin’ like two crusty, crackhead hoes on the streets. She starts swingin’ her arms wildly.
“I’ma kill you!” she screams at the top of her lungs. The tension between me and this ho has always been thick ever since we were kids. But shit really turned ugly between us when her hubby—well, her boyfriend at the time—got me pregnant. Dumb bitch still married his ass.
“Bitch”—I punch her upside the head—“you’ve always hated the fact that I fucked Isaiah and gave him the son you couldn’t. You empty, rotten-pussy bitch!”
I swing her into the counter, then we start tearin’ the office up. “Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Principal Lewis! Miss Simms! Someone help! They’re fightin’ in here!”
Wiggins scurries into the office and tries to pry us apart but we’re too much for him to handle by himself.
I punch LaQuandra’s mouth in, and blood gushes everywhere. She starts swingin’ her arms like a wild woman. “You’re a dead bitch, Cassandra! Do you hear me?! DEAD! You put your motherfuckin’ hands on me! Your ass is goin’ into a body bag, bitch!”
So much for the bitch’s Miss Prim and Proper act; she’s quickly slipped back into being the ghetto-trash bitch she is. I let her keep yellin’ out threats as I punch and slap her. She claws my face. But I am so goddamned pissed that this bitch was questionin’ my parentin’ and threatenin’ me with DYFS after all I’ve been through with that fuckin’ agency. My two oldest were taken from me when I was fifteen—Darius was only two and Jah’Mel was only a few months old—because I had gotten locked up for stealin’, and Beulah fuckin’ refused to take them in; her own great-grandchildren. I never forgave that old, selfish, hateful-ass bitch for that
.
I spent two months locked up as a ward of the state, then another four months fightin’ to get my kids back when I got out. But the blessin’ came when the Family Court judge on the bench that day happened to be the same old nasty fuck who I’d rode down a dark alley with—on more than one occasion—and sucked his dick in the front seat of his Cadillac just so I could make a few dollars to buy milk and Pampers for my kids. And that day in court I knew justice would be served. And dished up well, or I was gonna turn it up. The nasty fucker looked like he was about to shit himself and pass out when I came through his courtroom with my court-appointed Public Pretender.
Long story short, he not only emancipated me, but gave me my sons back. And yes . . . I knew I’d owe him, big time. But it didn’t matter. I woulda fucked the whole court house if I had to in order to get my sons back. Two nights later, I paid up. I met him at a rundown motel in Newark—and let him run his fifty-five-year-old dick in me, fuckin’ me in all three holes. And I swore then, I’d never let anyone else take my kids from me.
So for this bitch to threaten me with DYFS, she had crossed the motherfuckin’ line. I wish a bitch would! I take damn good care of my goddamn kids. They want for nothin’. So for this ho to part her cum lickers to say I should give Isaiah to her and his fahver is ridiculous. And she needs the shit beat outta her for even thinkin’ it. Bad-ass or not, he’s mine. And I’m responsible for his ass until he’s eighteen. But until then, I’ma beat the snot outta him for fuckin’ up my goddamn day.
“Bitch,” I snap as four teacher’s aides rush into the office to break us up. “The only thing dead in the room are your insides. You’ll never get my son, so you better go adopt another pet.”
“Miss Simms! Principal Lewis!” Wiggins yells as he and the aides try to pry us apart. “Stop this madness.” But neither of us stop goin’ at it like two wild whores in heat. Her nails graze the side of my face as she slaps me and that only pisses me off more. I punch her as hard as I can, causin’ her to grunt and stumble backward, then I lunge at her, grabbin’ her by hair and wrappin’ my hands up in it.
He grabs me by the waist and I snatch a chunk of the bitch’s weave outta her head as he yanks me. “Both of you are makin’ a spectacle of yourselves.”
“Motherfucka, you think I give a shit about bein’ a goddamn spectacle? Get your motherfuckin’ hands off’a me.”
She screams, holdin’ her head. “Get that crazy whore out of my office!”
“Bitch, the only one crazy in the room is you. You will never raise my son! Always the stepmother, never a mother.” Cock Bobber and Wiggins give us both a confused look. “Oops. The secret’s out. Yeah, this stuck-up bitch is Isaiah’s stepmother.” Her eyes pop out in shock. “Yeah, I fucked her—”
“You fuckin’ dirty bitch!” she snaps, tryna lunge at me. But she’s quickly held back by one of the aides.
“Principal Lewis, the police are on their way,” Becky the Cock Bobber announces.
“Fat bitch,” I snap, tossin’ LaQuandra’s weave pieces in her face. “Eat a dick and choke! I don’t give a fuck about no cops comin’. I’ll be bailed out before the ink dries. Dumb, trick-ass!”
She blinks, shocked.
Big dick Wiggins tries to calm me. “Miss Simms, please. Let’s not make this any—”
“Fuck you, niggah. Let’s go tell ya wife how many times you sucked these guts out. How ’bout we do that, huh, niggah-bitch?”
Everyone in the office’s mouths drops open. I can see the blood drainin’ from his face as the po-po make their way into the buildin’. Eight deep! But I don’t give a fuck! I smile to myself when I see three officers I know walkin’ in.
They separate the two of us, takin’ our statements. LaQuandra tells ’em I attacked her and the Cock Bobber cosigns the shit. I admit to goin’ upside her head. But because I have a scratch on my face and neck, they have to arrest her ho-ass, too. And she’s sick! Good for the bitch!
Before I let them arrest me, I call Darius to come to the school and pick up his brother since he’s also listed as an emergency contact, then hold my arms out in front of me and let them cuff me. As they’re escortin’ me outta the buildin’, I see Elijah and Isaiah and go off. “Niggah, you see what the fuck you caused?! I’m gettin’ arrested ’cause you don’t know how to fuckin’ behave in school. I’ma beat the skin off ya back when I get home for pullin’ out your goddamn cock in class! You lucky they have me in handcuffs or I’d do you right here. Your brother’s comin’ to pick ya black ass up!”
Wiggins tries to usher Isaiah back into his office and Elijah tries to run outside after me, but two aides grab him and hold him back. “Why you pig fuckers lockin’ my mom up?” Elijah wants to know, then he starts yellin’ at Isaiah. “See what you did, asshole!” Next thing I know he’s goin’ after Isaiah.
“Elijah!” I scream, cranin’ my neck as the cops are tryna haul me out. “Drag his ass!”
Once I’m in the backseat of the squad car, the dark chocolate officer with the dark brown eyes, thick nose and juicy, pussy-eatin’ lips, waits until his partner goes back inside to use the bathroom, then looks at me through his rearview mirror, shakin’ his head. His voice is low. “Damn, Cass. When you gonna stop all this dumb shit? You too fuckin’ fine to be carryin’ on the way you do.”
I lick my lips, then lean up in my seat and whisper, “Niggah, don’t worry ’bout all that. When you gonna come by to eat my pussy in the backseat of this squad car, again? You know you miss this pussy all up on ya tongue, niggah.”
“Yo, c’mon, Cass. Don’t start. I’m serious. The judge is gonna get tired of seeing your ass in his courtroom. You keep fuckin’ around and he’s gonna lock ya ass up. Then what?”
I sigh. “Then I’ll do the time.”
He shakes his head. “And you gonna end up losing ya damn kids. Listen. Speaking of which, we need to talk about Joshua. I’ve been tryna put this off, but after today I can’t anymore.”
I blink. Joshua is—as you already know, my . . . our . . . fourteen-year-old son. Yes, this niggah is Baby Daddy Number Five. And one of the few niggahs that pays his child support on time every week and spends time with his son. “You’ve been tryna put off what, Julius?” I ask, feelin’ my pressure startin’ to rise.
“I want custody of Joshua.”
“You can have joint custody, but that’s it. My son is not livin’ with you.”
“Our son,” he corrects, raisin’ a brow. “And I’m takin’ you to court for full-custody. It’s time he lives with me. You still wanna run the sreets and be wild. He needs stability and structure.”
“Niggah, you a goddamn liar. I’ve raised him for the last fourteen years and all of sudden you wanna step in like Captain America. I don’t think so.”
‘Listen, the fact is you keep too much shit goin’. Josh needs a more stable home environment, Cass. You still wanna run the streets and shit.”
“Niggah-bitch, this has nothin’ to do with what the fuck I do on my own time. I take damn good care of my kids, and you know it. Ya black ass just don’t wanna pay all that child support. That’s all this is about. Well, guess what, niggah? You ain’t gettin’ my son. And now I’ma drag ya ass back into court for more money; watch me.”
“Ya ass is crazy, Cass. I pay close to nine hundred dollars a month so you better enjoy it while you can ’cause I’m gettin’ my son and you won’t be gettin’ shit else.”
I glare at him. “You’ll get Joshua over my dead body, niggah.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” he says as his partner opens the passenger side door and slides in.
He revs the engine, then peels outta the parkin’ lot, headin’ downtown. He keeps eyein’ me in the rearview mirror, and I’m eyein’ him back.
This niggah’s crazy if he thinks I’ma ever let him take Joshua from me. I’ll let a train full of niggahs fuck me before that happens. I’ll pay someone to body him, first. And I mean that shit!
I lean all the way back in my seat, li
ft my legs up and plant my feet up on the partition, spreadin’ open my legs and showing my bald snatch. “What, niggah . . . you want some’a this hot pussy? Is that why the fuck you starin’ so goddamn hard.” His partner tries not to look back at me.
“Get your feet down,” he barks, mean muggin’ me all crazy and whatnot.
“Fuck you, little dick,” I snap, kickin’ the partition. “Yeah, bitch . . . I know all about that lil’-ass, piggy dick you got. And I heard you come fast, too, you worthless fuck!”
He glares at me. “Yo, you heard what the fuck I said. I’m not gonna tell you again.”
“What the fuck you gonna do, bitch?” I kick the partition again. “Suck a tampon, punk-ass niggah!”
“Yo, man,” Julius says, glancin’ over at him. “Don’t crank her up. Just ignore her crazy ass.”
He turns back the fuck around and keeps his eyes forward as Julius hits the siren button and presses the pedal to the metal. The niggah knows he’d better hurry up and get me to the station and outta this car and away from his ass before I say a whole lot more.
“Both of you pussy-ass niggahs can eat my ass.”
I kick the partition again.
Julius shakes his head, lettin’ out a disgusted sigh, like I give a fuck.
Bastard!
Seventeen
“C’mon, Cass . . . damn,” he whispers all throaty and whatnot as I unfasten his belt buckle, unzip his pants, then fish out his thick, throbbin’ cock. “You tryna get me fired ’n shit.” He feebly pushes my hand away; tries to lift my face from his crotch. But I know it’s all an act.
“What, you don’t want this fat-ass dick sucked?” I ask, lickin’ the sticky precum that oozes outta his piss slit. This niggah might not be shit. But his dick is hella good! And he knows it. But I know that his ass is weak . . . for good pussy and good head, which is why he really isn’t stoppin’ me from havin’ at his cock. His mouth is sayin’ one thing, but his body and dick are sayin’ somethin’ else, as always.