by Cairo
“Nah, baby, it’s all good. Let’s get outta here.”
She smiles. “Whew! I was worried for a moment. I thought you was gonna tell a sista to beat it or something.”
Oh, I’ma tell ya dick-thirsty ass to beat it aiight. “Nah, never that, baby. I ain’t no shallow-type cat. I came to spend time wit’ you. And get this dick wet. And that’s what it is.”
I stare at her, start to wonder if she got good pussy. I smirk at the thought of layin’ back, proppin’ her up on my dick, then spinnin’ her ass ’round on it like a doll. My dick starts to jump. Yeah, I’ma run this dick straight through her muthafuckin’ back. Lyin’-ass ho!
When we get to her shiny black customized Benz truck, I say, “Damn, I didn’t know Benz made whips for midgets.” I hear her suck her teeth as she disarms the alarm, unlockin’ the doors. I toss my bag in the back, then get in. I watch her climb up and in. She looks over at me. And on some real shit, the bitch got the nerve to be aiight lookin’ in a funny kinda way. Sorta like a chimpanzee.
“Please don’t refer to me as a midget. It’s offensive, and derogatory,” she says, slammin’ her door. “I might be many things, but a midget ain’t one of ’em.”
Bitch, please. I’ll call you what the fuck I want. I feel like laughin’ dead in her muthafuckin’ face. “Well, then what are you?”
“Well, for starters, I’m a woman. My name is Vita. And I’m a little person. ‘Little people’ is the term used to refer to us. Calling little people midgets is no longer politically correct. I’m not part of some old circus freak show.”
I can’t tell. “Oh, aiight, my bad. So why didn’t you just keep shit real and tell me what it was wit’ you from the gate?”
She looks at me. “Do you want the truth?”
What the fuck you think, bitch? I nod. “Yeah.”
“As fine as you are, would you still have come out here to see me if I told you the truth? And be honest.”
I think, do I lie or keep it real? For the right price, hell yeah, ho! “Nah, I probably wouldn’t.” She looks at me, raises a brow. “Aiight, hell no.”
She gives me a smile. “Exactly. Look, I apologize for not being up front with you. I was wrong for that. But I’m not gonna apologize for wanting to spend time with you, or for wanting to lie in your arms. I like you. I know I don’t really know you, but after all of our phone conversations and email exchanges, I feel an emotional connection to you.”
Lie in my arms? Emotional connection? What the fuck?! Cuckoo-cuckoo-cuckoo. This bitch talkin’ like she’s one screw from crazy. “Dig, baby, I don’t know if you notice or not, but I’ma big man. Wouldn’t you rather fuck wit’ a little nigga instead of a cat who’s almost three times ya height?”
She shakes her head. “Those aren’t the kind of men I’m attracted to. I like a man I can climb up on and crawl all over, the taller the better. I like it when a man lifts me up and props me up on his dick. I might be a little woman, but I got a big sex drive.”
Let me find out this bitch can fuck all night. “Oh, is that so? Well, that’s what ya mouth says.”
“That’s what I know. So, do you have a problem with what you see, or do I need to drop you off somewhere else?”
Not at the moment. I lick my lips, lean over and kiss her, slippin’ my tongue deep into her mouth. The bitch gotta mouth like a furnace, and I immediately imagine my dick up in it. She sucks on my tongue as I reach for her lil’ right titty. Her nipple is hard as a pebble. I massage it over her shirt. She moans. I can smell her pussy juices simmerin’. And I wanna marinate this dick in it. “Nah,” I say, lookin’ her in the eyes. I kiss her again. “I’m right where I wanna be. Now let’s hurry up and get to ya spot ’fore I end up fuckin’ ya fine ass in the backseat of ya truck.”
She giggles. Silly-ass bitch, I think, grinnin’ at her. She backs outta her parkin’ space, then heads east onto Interstate 285 toward Decatur. My cell rings. I pull it from my hip and peep the number. It’s my nigga Mike. “Dig, ma. Excuse me for one minute, I say, pressin’ TALK. “Yo, my nigga.”
“Alley Cat, what’s good, nigga?”
“Shit. What’s good wit’ you?”
“You already know. We rollin’ out to Diva’s Lounge in Montclair later tonight. You down?”
“Nah, my dude, can’t. I’m outta town.”
He laughs. “Prowlin’?”
“Nigga, you know how I do.”
“Do you, my dude. When you comin’ back?”
As soon as I run through this bitch’s purse. I glance over at Minnie Mouse. When she looks over at me, I wink at her, lickin’ my lips. She smiles. “In a week or so.”
“Aiight. Hit me up when you get in.”
“Most def.”
“Oh, before I forget. You still down for All-Star in February?”
“Damn, I almost forgot about that shit. Where’s it gonna be again?”
“Phoenix, nigga,” he says, laughin’. “Ya ass can’t remember shit.”
“Whatever, nigga,” I say, laughin’ wit’ him.
“Just let me know how much the shit’s gonna run us.”
“Aiight, lata.”
“One,” I say, endin’ the call. I look over at Vita. Watch her maneuver her way through traffic. On some real shit, I’m impressed wit’ her road skills. Still, she reminds me of Mrs. Potato Head. I unzip my jeans, then pull my dick through the slit of my Polo boxer briefs. She snaps her neck in my direction, and glances at my dick. “You think you can handle this?” I ask, slowly strokin’ it.
She shifts her eyes from me to the road, then back to my dick, then back to the road in front of her. “Are you kidding? Of course I can handle that.” She glances at this snake again. I grin, knowin’ damn well she’s gonna change her tune the minute this sleepin’ giant awakens. She tries to keep her eyes on the road.
“You sure ’bout that?”
She doesn’t answer the question. I smile, continue stretchin’ my dick out. “Why you sitting there playing with your dick, teasing me?”
“’Cause I want you to see exactly what you gonna be gettin’ all week before we get to ya spot.” I continue to jerk it until it gets long and thick. She does a double-take, and her eyes pop open.
“Oh, shit,” she says, swervin’ from one lane to the other.
I laugh. “Damn, this dick got you tryna run off the road ’n shit. Relax, baby. Ain’t no need to try ’n kill us. I ain’t gonna hurt you wit’ this pipe. But if you scared, say you scared.”
“I’m not scared,” she says. “Look at me. I’ve been faced with plenty of challenges all my life, and I’ve overcome all of them.”
I laugh. “Oh, so you see takin’ this dick as a challenge, huh?”
“No. I see it more as an adventure.”
“Adventure, eh?” I grin. “Yo, I like that. So, you gonna handle this dick?”
She swallows hard. “Umm, I’m gonna sure do my best. It’s been a long time. Just make sure you take it slow, and not try to ram it in me.”
“Oh, not to worry, baby,” I say, pumpin’ my dick in my hand. When I’m finished wit’ ya dumb ass, you gonna be runnin’ ’round in the middle of the day wit’ a flashlight in ya hand, lookin’ for some more of this dick. I stop myself from spittin’ all over her dashboard and windshield, wait for my dick to go down, then stuff it back in my boxers. I zip my pants up. “I got nuthin’ but time. I’ma inch this long dick up in you nice ’n slow.”
10
Yo, e’erything up in this chick’s spot is top-of-the-line shit. Word up. I peep the Sony fifty-two-inch flat-screen wit’ Bose surround sound and the Italian leather sofa set. Her spot is clean and smells fresh. I guess I expected her ass to live in a dollhouse wit’ a buncha tiny-ass furniture ’n shit. But, I gotta give it to her, chick got some flava.
After she takes her shoes off at the door, she gives me the grand tour of the downstairs, then upstairs. I take it all in, really impressed. When she’s done showin’ me around, I follow her back down the sta
irs, watchin’ how she maneuvers herself down each step, slidin’ down one step at a time. For some reason, I feel like scoopin’ her up under my arm like a puppy and walkin’ her ass down, but I check myself. “Can I get you something to drink? Water, juice, or I have something a little stronger, if you like.”
I hear Jamie Foxx’s “Blame It” in my head. A nigga like me ain’t never had to blame shit I do on alcohol, feel me? Fuck that “I was drunk” shit. If I fuck a bitch, I’m dickin’ her knowin’ exactly what I’m doin’ and who I’m doin’ it to. “I don’t drink,” I say, takin’ a seat on the sofa. “You got any bottled water?”
“Sure. Make yourself comfortable while I get it. I hope you don’t mind if I fix myself a cocktail. It’s my vacation, and I like to get nice whenever I can.”
“Do you, baby,” I say, sittin’ back on the sofa. She goes off into the kitchen, and I hear cabinets openin’ and closin’ and a buncha stirrin’ ’round. My cell rings. It’s Shavron. Another Myspace freak I met ’bout six months ago. The last time I hit her wit’ some dick was a few weeks ago, and the bitch’s been sweatin’ me for another fix. “Yo, baby, what’s good wit’ you?” I ask, lowerin’ my voice so Minnie Mouse doesn’t hear.
“When I’ma see you?” she asks, soundin’ like she got a lil’ attitude or some shit. “Seems like you tryna avoid me or something.” I grin. Yeah, this bitch’s real tight wit’ a muhfucka.
“Why you say that?”
“’Cause ever since I gave you some pussy, you acting like you ain’t beat.”
Uh, that’s’cause I ain’t. The bitch’s pussy don’t stay wet ’nough for me. I mean, the shit’s big and can fit this dick up in it, but it’s not gushy. A muhfucka like me likes a real juicy pussy sloshin’ my dick up when I’m strokin’ it. Not that dry shit she be servin’ up. The last time I fucked her, it felt like I had my dick wrapped in sandpaper. Had my shit raw for two days. But I know her dumb ass is feenin’ for some more of this dick. And I know if I slay her ass just right, she’s gonna be comin’ up offa them child support checks. The ho got four kids by three different muhfuckas. And I bet the bitch think I’ma be her next baby daddy. She already actin’ like she wanna get this dick naked. “Nah, baby, it ain’t nuthin’ like that. I been kinda stressed lately. Gotta lot on my plate ’n shit.”
“Well, I still wanna see you.”
Damn, I tell this ho that I been kinda stressed, and her selfish ass ain’t even ask if a muhfucka’s okay ’n shit. Didn’t think to ask if there’s anything her dumb-ass can do. All she worried ’bout is how she can get at this dick. And then muhfuckas wonder why I drag these bitches. “Oh, you miss me, huh?”
“Something like that.”
I laugh. “Yeah, whatever.” On some real shit, I can never understand why bitches gotta play. Hell, if you miss a muhfucka, just say it. What’s so hard ’bout that? Geesh! “You know you miss this dick,” I tell her.
She sucks her teeth. “And so what if I do?”
“Then say the shit. If you miss this dick, say you miss it, baby. It’s all good. Daddy ain’t goin’ nowhere, you dig? I’ma come through and feed you this Snickers bar real soon. And it’s loaded wit’ a buncha hot creamy nuts just for you, aiight?”
“When?”
See. Wit’ a ho like Shavron I gotta ration out this dick to keep her ass from gettin’ sprung the fuck out. So when I finally break this dick off in her sandbag pussy again, she’ll ’preciate it. Otherwise, she could become a fuckin’ headache, real quick. Besides, I never give a ho this dick when she wants it. It’s when I think she deserves it. You want this good nut, then you need to earn it, feel me?
“Well,” I say, glancin’ over my shoulder to make sure Vita isn’t comin’ back into the room. “I’m outta town ’til next week. And when I get back, you know it’s my birthday the followin’ week so I’m tryna get right.”
“I know. And I wanna spend it with you. I’m not gonna have the kids, so make sure you make some time to get right with me, too. I got something for you.”
Aye, yo, I know I just told this bitch my birthday’s in two weeks. And I know I told Vita my birthday was on Saturday. Well, peep this shit out. A nigga like me has about fifty different birthdays throughout the year. Hell, I can barely keep up wit’ ’em. But they damn sure keep the gifts flowin’; dig what I’m sayin’?
“Oh, word? You copped me that new Xbox 360 joint?”
“Yeah, I got you that, and something else.”
I grin. “Oh, yeah? And does that sumthin’ else come wit’ a side dish of hot pussy?”
She laughs. I roll my eyes up in my head. “Yep, and a slow, wet dick suck.”
“That’s wassup,” I say, openin’ and closin’ my legs. I feel my dick startin’ to come alive. “Tell big daddy how you gonna wet this dick.”
“Well…” Vita steps up in my space carryin’ a tray wit’ a bottle of Dannon water, and a drink for herself. I take the water, then put my finga up for her to give me a minute. She sits ’cross from me, sippin’ her drink, waitin’. “…I’ma kiss the head of it, twirl my tongue all around it, then I’ma suck and lick all over your balls, one at a time, then slowly pull ’em both into my mouth while jerking you off.”
I cut my eye over at Vita. Slowly open and close my legs, tryna pinch down the swellin’ in my boxers. She’s actin’ like she’s busy goin’ through CDs, frontin’ like she’s not listenin’ to my conversation. She downs her drink, then goes back into the kitchen.
Shavron makes slurpin’ noises into the phone, bringin’ me back to the conversation. She got my shit slowly brickin’ up. And listenin’ to this ho got me ready to beat sumthin’ up. But before I ever consider givin’ this bitch another dose of this dick, I make a mental note to buy her some K-Y Jelly lubricant, Wet, Astroglide, or some other shit to help wet her ass up. I pull my cell from my ear and glance at the time. Damn. I’ve been bullshittin’ wit’ this freak for almost fifteen minutes. I guess it’s kinda fucked up that I’m still talkin’ wit’ this chick instead of vibin’ wit’ Minnie Mouse.
Vita returns wit’ a bottle of Patrón and a small bowl of sliced limes. I watch her pour herself another drink, squeeze in one of the limes, then downs it. She pours another one, downs it. Oh, shit, I think. This lil’ bitch’s a real lush. I peep her eyein’ me as she walks by goin’ into her sittin’ room-slash-office. She closes the door, then a few minutes later comes back out, and goes into the kitchen.
“Listen, baby. I gotta bounce. I’ll hit you up when I get home.”
She sucks her teeth. “That’s real fucked up. I wasn’t fin—”
I hang up, cuttin’ her off as Vita wobbles back into the room, then sits down. She’s fumblin’ through CDs again. The bitch can’t seem to sit her ass still. She acts like she got an assful of bugs crawin’ and bitin’ up in her. She keeps gettin’ up and goin’ from one room to the other. I frown, wonderin’ if this ho is ADHD or some shit.
“Dig, baby,” I say, lookin’ at her as she sits back in the chair ’cross from me. “Sorry ’bout that.”
She shrugs, twistin’ her face up. “It musta been pretty important for you to stay on the phone for almost twenty minutes when you supposed to be chilling with me.”
Oh, shit. This bitch got the nerve to be actin’ jealous. I raise my brow, but say nuthin’. Yo, fuck her! Aiight, aiight…yeah, I know it was straight-up rude. Oh, muthafuckin’ well. She stares at me. Picks up her drink, then gulps it down. “The way you were whispering I thought it mighta been somebody else, like your girl or something. It sounded like you were having a very intimate conversation. Is she somebody you deal with?”
I think. Catch myself from gettin’ at her neck for tryna check for me. Nigga, stay focused. I open my water and take a long drink. I need a muthafuckin’ blunt!
“Why?”
She shrugs, pourin’ herself another drink. “Just asking.”
“Yo, check this out,” I say, leanin’ forward in my seat. “I’m solo, all day, e’ery day. I don’t
have a girl. And I don’t answer to one. So I fuck who I wanna fuck, smell me? But if I did have a chick, make no mistake, I wouldn’t be sittin’ here wit’ you. Dig what I’m sayin’?”
She nods. “I hear you. So, have you ever cheated?”
I frown. “Why?”
She shrugs again. “Just curious.”
Now, on some real shit, a nigga ain’t really ever been in a serious relationship, so technically, I’ve never cheated. But fuckin’ a string a bitches? You already know! “Nah, can’t say that I have.”
“That’s good. I hate men who cheat.”
And I hate bitches who can’t suck a dick. She goes to pour herself another drink. Damn, that’s like her fourth drink in less than an hour. “Damn, ma, what you tryna do, get drunk or sumthin’?”
“No. Not really. I just wanna enjoy my vacation and get nice. I hope you don’t mind.”
As long as ya ass don’t start stumblin’ and throwin’ up, I don’t give a fuck. “Nah, baby, do you.” I take her in. She has big-ass brown eyes that kinda make her look like a ladybug. Other than that, she ain’t really a bad-lookin’ chick. I mean, I can fuck her face forward. Hol’ up, don’t get shit twisted. She ain’t ever gonna be Halle Berry, or a Beyoncé, but she’s a far cry from bein’ an orangutan. And, although she ain’t no beauty queen, she can still get fucked wit’ the lights on. And I’ll even give her ass some tongue. Besides, the bitch got some big, juicy dick suckas I’m dyin’ to feel wrapped ’round this dick.
I lean all the way back in my seat, stretchin’ my arm out over the top of the sofa. “Yo, baby doll, why you sittin’ way over there? Come sit closer to me so we can get better acquainted.”
She grins, gettin’ up like she’s happy to finally get some attention from a nigga. She puts a few CDs in the CD player, then presses Play. I watch her waddle back over wit’ her drink in her hand as Usher’s “Trading Places” plays. Her tiny nipples poke out like Skittles in her pink and white T-shirt. She slows her steps, and sways her hips to the beat. I smirk. Wait for her to take her seat beside me. I lean in. Sniff, sniff again. She smells like vanilla and cinnamon. I take another whiff. I don’t remember smellin’ perfume on her earlier. Then again, I wasn’t beat. But, now…on some real shit, the bitch smells delicious. And if her pussy smells anything like this scent she has on, I’ma tear her the fuck up all night. There’s just sumthin’ ’bout a chick who smells good that turns me the fuck on.