Daddy Long Stroke (50 page)

“I got you, ma.”

She looks over her shoulder, peeps us all startin' at her ass. “And don't be blowin' my shit up either.”

I laugh. “I'ma hit you up tonight.” She igs me, poppin' her hips.

Mike shakes his head, grabbin' his bag. “I see you finally got her to drop them digits.”

“Yeah, man.”

“Yo, I'm tellin' you, son. Leave that ho alone. She's fine as fuck. But, man listen, that bitch look like she ain't to be fucked wit'.”

“Yeah, and that's the shit that's got my dick hard. I'ma see what's good wit' her ass real soon.” Gee finally brings his ass outta the bathroom. “'Bout damn time,” I say, handin' him his backpack.

“Yo, I had to take a shit.”

I frown. “You sat ya ass down on them nasty toilet seats?”

“Nah, muhfucka, I squatted over it.”

“Whatever,” I say, walkin' off. By the time we get to baggage claim, our bags are already on the carousel. I snatch mine up, then wait for the rest of 'em to get theirs. We give each other dap, and hugs, then go our separate ways.

I can't even front, a muhfucka's exhausted. The minute I get in the crib, I drop my bags, put my phone on Quiet, then take off my clothes. I grab a sheet and blanket from outta the closet, then stretch the fuck out 'cross the sofa. I close my eyes. And before I know it, I'm knocked the fuck out.

Thursday mornin' I'm speedin' back up the parkway to the airport to catch my eight-thirty flight out to L.A. The last two days I didn't really do too much of nuthin'. I went up the way to check out Pops, and had dinner wit' Moms. Other than that, I basically chilled. Blazed and nutted, that's 'bout it. My cell rings. I glance at the screen. It's Cherry.
Damn, she's up mighty late
, I think, peepin' the time. It's two-thirty in the mornin' there.

“What's good, pretty baby?”

“I was calling to make sure you were up, and on your way to the airport.”

“Yeah, I'm on my way there now.”

“Good. How's the weather there?”

“It's brick as hell out here,” I say, veerin' over to get onto the turnpike. “They talkin' 'bout more snow out this bitch. I'm glad to be gettin' the fuck up outta here.”

“Well, it should be nice here today. I think in the upper seventies.”

“That's wassup.” I stop at the ticket booth, grab my ticket, then speed off. “Yo, I'm seriously thinkin' 'bout stayin' out there 'til this cold-ass weather breaks. I hate this shit.”

“Mmmm, I'd love that. You know you can stay here for as long as you like. Hell, you don't ever have to go back. Speaking of which, I was going to wait until you got here to ask, but since we're talking now, I might as well ask you now.”

“Wassup?”

“I have to go back out to St. Lucia next week for my brother's wedding, and since you're already going to be out here, I was hoping you'd go with me. It'll be like vacation within a vacation. You'll get to see the beautiful island I was raised on and meet my family, too. It'll be fun.”

“Oh, you want me to meet ya peeps? You sure you want that?”

“Of course I do, I wouldn't be asking.”

“You not tryna get ya peeps to approve me for marriage, are you?”

“Oh, please. Not hardly. I want you as my date. That's it. And besides, it'll be nice to get fucked deep on the beach. We have a villa down on the beach. You could make love to me under the stars. Fuck me in my ass in the blue water.”

“Aaah, shit,” I say, laughin'. “Let me find out, you tryna get all romantic on a nigga.”

She sucks her teeth. “Will you go?”

I smile, shakin' my head. St. Lucia has always been one of them Caribbean spots I've wanted to check out. Only a muthafuckin' fool would turn down a free trip. “How long you gonna be out there?” A week, she says. “Oh, aiight, no doubt,” I tell her, veerin' onto the airport exit ramp. When I get down the ramp, I pay the toll, then follow the signs for the airport toward long-term parkin'.
“Listen, I'm almost at the airport. I'll see you in a few hours, aiight?”

“See you when you get here. I'll pick you up outside of baggage claim.”

“Cool.” As soon as I disconnect the call, Vita calls. “Yo?”

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“I'm on my way to the airport. Wassup?”

“I was hoping you could come down here for a few days.”

“Oh, so what you sayin', you still tryna fuck wit' a nigga?”

“I want to see you. I'm still hurt by what happened. But I know I don't want to stop seeing you, either.”

This broad! I swear she better be glad I feel sorry for her retarded ass. Otherwise, I'd drag her ass for e'erything she's worth. “Well, check this out, ma. I'm on my way out to L.A. for a few weeks, so I'ma haveta hit you back when I get back to Jersey. I'll let you know then if I'm still interested in givin' you this dick.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yo, you heard me. I fucked ya peoples in ya house. Gutted her all up on ya sheets; on the same bed I rocked ya box in, and you still wanna fuck wit' a muhfucka. Baby, that's some sad shit. You a cool chick, Vita, real talk, but you got some self-esteem issues you need to work on. Muhfuckas are gonna always use you and take you for granted 'til you get ya mind right, baby. Real talk. And the only reason I'm kickin' this shit to you is 'cause I really don't wanna see you get hurt. A muhfucka like me will run you ragged, baby, 'cause I know you lonely and weak. You deserve better, so I'm tryna give you the opportunity to bow out gracefully 'fore you end up more fucked up than you already are.”

“OhmyGod, I can't believe you.”

“Believe it or not, I'm tellin' you some real shit.”

“You are so fucking arrogant and selfish!”

“I know,” I tell her, pullin' up to the parkin' lot gate. I roll my
window down and press the button for my ticket. “It is what it is. I enjoyed fuckin' you, baby. But this dick comes wit' an expiration date on it, and your time for gettin' it is up.”

“Fuck you,” she snaps. “One day you're gonna fuck over the wrong bitch. And I hope I'm there to see you get everything you got coming.”

I drive 'round the parkin' area, tryna find a damn parkin' space. It's packed out this bitch. After drivin' 'round for almost ten minutes, I find a spot. “Well,'til then, I'ma keep fuckin', baby. So whatever happens happens.”

“You're such an asshole.”

I laugh, grabbin' my shit outta the car, then runnin' over to catch the airport bus. “I know. And I fucked you all up in yours, didn't I?” I hop on, tell the driver which airlines I'm flyin' on, then take a seat in the back. “Do ya'self a favor, boo. Delete my number. And stay far away from any muhfucka who ain't tryna treat you wit' respect, ya heard?”

She sighs. “I guess I should be thanking you. But I'm too mad at you right now.”

“No thanks needed, baby. You'll get over it. Would you have rather I lied to you and kept playin' you out?”

“No.”

“Aiight then. Take what I'm tellin' you as a gift. The next muhfucka might not be so generous.” I end the call. Far as I'm concerned, there's no sense in goin' back 'n forth. I done told her all she needs to know. What she does wit' the shit is up to her. I got bigger and better things to do than to be tryna counsel some lost cause.

The shuttle drops me off in front of Continental. I grab my shit, hop off and head through the glass doors. Forty minutes later I'm boardin' my flight to L.A. I take my seat, and buckle up, then shut down my cell. I'm sittin' here thinkin' L.A. might not
be a bad spot to make my winter hangout. I could spend three months away from this cold-ass weather, then come back to Jersey in the spring, and chill 'til the winter comes through again. It'd definitely break up doin' the same ole same ole. Not that I've been lookin', but it'll be nice to have a few West Coast beauties to fuck on those days I'm not beat to fuck wit' Cherry's ass.

LAX Airport, as usual, is busy. I peep a few bitches wit' potential, but don't really put out any energy to speak. Right now my mind's been on that sexy-ass ho Kat. I had her on the brain practically the whole flight out here, imaginin' fuckin' her all night. The shit had my dick hard as concrete. I'ma definitely get at her when I touch Jersey again.

Soon as I get to the baggage claim area to get my bag, my cell rings. P
RIVATE
N
UMBER
flashes up on the screen. I shake my head. Muhfuckas crack me the fuck up me wit' blockin' their numbers. My thing is, if you callin' me and you don't want me to know ya number, then you must already be a muhfucka I ain't fuckin' wit' any damn way. So I don't give a fuck 'bout not havin' ya digits. “Yo?”

“You might have gotten off on them charges, but…”

“Oh, so it's you who's been callin' and not sayin' shit on the phone?”

“You don't know that. Maybe it's another fool you fucked over.”

I sigh. “Ramona, why the fuck are you callin' me?”

“Because I'm not done with you.”

“Well, I'm done wit' you.”

“You think you can fuck me, get me knocked up, then dismiss me like I ain't shit, and I'm supposed to go away quietly? Wrong answer. I am about to become your worst fucking nightmare.”

“Bitch, you're fuckin' crazy, for real, yo.”

She laughs. “That's already been established, nigga. And you fucked over the wrong bitch in the process.”

I can't believe this ho is fuckin' threatenin' me, like that's 'posed to mean sumthin' to me. This bitch needs to let the shit go, for real. I hear Moms' voice;
You're playing a very dangerous game messing over these women the way you do…A scorned woman can become a very dangerous woman…It's only a matter of time before you find yourself lying up in a hospital bed
…

“Check this out, you fuckin' nutcase, nobody forced ya dumb ass to do anything you didn't wanna do, so if you feel fucked over, you did it to ya'self. So save all ya theatrics for a muhfucka who gives a fuck. 'Cause, bitch, I don't.”

“I swear to fucking God, you won't know when or where, but I promise you—for every woman you've ever fucked over, I'm going to make you pay, if it's the last motherfucking thing I do.”

“Yo, that shit you talkin' don't rattle me. Do what you gotta do and stop fuckin' callin' me.”

“I hate you!”

I laugh. “
That's
already been established. But you hate ya'self even more. You hate the fact that you miss a muhfucka like me; that you can't let the fuck go, and move on wit' ya miserable-ass life. Yeah, baby, you hate me, aiight…”

“You don't know what the fuck you're talking about. I hate you 'cause your no-good, black ass ain't shit! I hate you 'cause you're a motherfucking user.”

“Yeah, whatever you say. Admit it, boo. You hate it even more that a no-good, black ass muhfucka like me shut off ya cock supply; that I dismissed ya ass wit'out blinkin' an eye. Well, guess what? Get the fuck over it. Chalk it up as a lesson learned and move the fuck on.”

“Until you've paid for what you've done to me, I'm not moving on.”

I sigh. “Yo, do you hear how retarded you sound, right now? What you need to do is look in the muthafuckin' mirror, and deal
wit' the
real
problem, baby—you, instead of tryna blame me for ya shit.” She starts yappin' off at the mouth 'bout what she's never gonna go through again, 'bout how she's never gonna trust another nigga again, blah, blah, blah. The bitch is doin' all this talkin', but ain't sayin' a muthafuckin' thing that makes sense. I end the call wit' her still flappin' her jaws, shakin' my head. This shit is really gettin' outta hand. I decide to get my number changed the minute I get back to Jersey. I need to shut down all access these nut-ass bitches have to me.

Bitches kill me. Who the fuck they think they foolin'? All that dumb shit most of 'em be poppin' 'bout what they not gonna do for a nigga. That's a buncha bullshit, for real; 'specially when it comes to a muhfucka like me. I know I got good dick. And I know how to use e'ery muthafuckin' inch of it. This long black dick is a ho's blessing and her curse. It's what they all want. It's what they all obsess over. The size of a nigga's dick; how low he's hangin'; how much he's packin'. It's what they crave. And I've seen what a bitch will do to get at it. I've had bitches fall in love wit' this dick; bitches who've stalked this dick; bitches who'd run down their own mamas to taste this dick in the back of their throats. Even when they know the nigga attached to it ain't ever gonna be theirs. Even when they know the muhfucka pipin' out their insides is gonna be the same muhfucka who disses their asses. Yet, they still wanna fuck; still wanna keep gettin' this dick. So you tell me. Who the fuck is the real problem, them or me?

I peep my bag comin' outta the chute, then grab it when it comes down toward me. I head outside. Damn, it's gorgeous out this bitch. I smile, breathin' in all the smog. Bottom line, there's always gonna be a buncha horny-ass bitches out here who wanna fuck, be fucked, and suck down on this nut. I ain't braggin'. I'm keepin' shit real. And the real shit is, there's always gonna be a ho out here who's gonna always keep a nigga like me piped out
and laced up. There's always gonna be a buncha lonely, low-self-esteem-havin', lovesick hoes out here who are gonna do whatever they can to have a muhfucka like me in their beds, even if it means they gotta beg, borrow, or steal. Even if it means they gotta keep lookin' in the mirror e'ery damn day, lyin' to themselves that a nigga like me is gonna one day love 'em back.

Like I told ya'll goin' into this shit, fuck wit' a muhfucka like me at ya own risk. I'm ya sweetest most dangerous addiction— that dark, chocolate nigga who's gonna melt in ya mouth and all up in guts. Have you feenin' for ya next taste. I told you if you want it rough, you want it rugged. I'ma slay ya muthafuckin' ass 'til ya shit-hole starts to smoke. No joke. You want it slow, you want it gentle. I'ma rock ya box 'til ya eyes cross, and that's what it is. A muhfucka like me ain't lookin' for love, and I ain't askin' for none in return. There are only two things I seek. The first is pussy, and lots of it—deep, wet and gushy. The second is a long throat: a bitch who knows howta suck, gulp and swallow down a dick. And that's it. All that extra shit, save it for the next muhfucka.