The Kat Trap (20 page)

Tie-breaker if each team lost one round.

He sank two more balls, then missed. I handed Chanel my bag. Took my stick and leaned in, spread my legs and bent over, givin’ muhfuckas a ringside view of my fatty. Yeah, I was fuckin’ with ’em. I pointed to the corner right pocket with my stick, then licked my lips real sexy-like. I took my eye off the table for a hot minute and caught the stares of a few niggas eye-ballin’ me. I made one shot;
missed
the other.

“Bitch,” Chanel snapped. “You know ya ass can’t play this damn shit, and we ’bout to lose.”

Bronze laughed. “It’s cool, baby,” he said, chalkin’ his stick, “we don’t mind takin’ ya money. I’ll even buy ya drinks the rest of the night.” He gave his boy some dap, then slayed the rest of the game. Niggas was gettin’ real amped. “Rack ’em up, baby.”

I bit my lip. Chanel sucked her teeth. The nigga Leo broke again, strong. This time only three balls went in. Again, the niggas were stripes. He sank one ball; missed the next.

Chanel took her stick, picked up the chalk, then asked, “What’s this for?” Niggas and bitches started laughin’. She shrugged. “What?”

“Bitch,” I snapped, “just try ’n hit a damn ball in. And we’re solids.”

“I know, I know. Damn.” She leaned in, let her titties smile at all the happy niggas, then sank a ball in. She jumped up, actin’ all excited ’n shit. The bitch had the niggas goin’. They was really lookin’ at us like we were two dumb hoes. She re-chalked her stick between her shots, rockin’ the table. Niggas started shiftin’ ’round, bitches started grinnin’. “Eight ball, corner pocket. Oh, I’m so nervous.” I wanted to bust out laughin’ at her theatrical ass. She stood straight, shook out her hands, took a deep breath, then leaned back over.

My eyes swept across the room, checkin’ the niggas. I peeped the way Cash was lookin’ at Chanel like he was ready to throw her ass ’cross the pool table and deep dick her down. The nigga even grabbed at his dick a few times.

“C’mon, girl,” I said, “you can do it.” My lips broke into a wide smile the minute the shiny black ball sank. We jumped up and down, screamin’, actin’ all hyped ’n shit. “Rack ’em up, muh
fuckas,” I said. Chanel unpinned her ’do, shakin’ out her thick, curly hair, then ran her fingas through it. The way she did it was sexy as fuck. I looked around the room again and noticed a few niggas’ jaws were tight. I smiled again.

“Good game,” Leo said. “Let’s see how lucky ya’ll get now.”

I laughed, shakin’ my ass over to the table. A few niggas was tryna get my attention with they eyes, but I igged ’em. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said, chalkin’ my stick. I shook out my hands, closed my eyes real tight, then stared at the table.

“Oh, yeah,” I heard someone say, “ya’ll niggas got this. Chick’s game is whack.” A few niggas snickered.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said, cuttin’ my eyes over at him. “And so is ya dick game, muhfucka.” Niggas started clownin’ him. That shut his dumb ass up. I took a deep breath, then made a strong-ass break. Four balls scattered in.

“Stripes,” I called out, smilin’. I heard a few niggas chucklin’ and talkin’ ’bout gettin’ lucky or some shit like that. But a bitch kept her eye on the table, tryna map out my next move. I was ready to get my drink and smoke on and was gettin’ bored with clownin’ these muhfuckas. I glanced over my shoulder at Chanel and grinned. She smiled. Then I straight-housed them niggas, leavin’ them gaggin’. “Eight ball, side pocket,” I said, watchin’ it sink. “Run me my money, niggas.” I high-fived Chanel. Niggas who had paper on us was cheerin’ and two-steppin’ ’round, talkin’ mad shit. The rest of the niggas was mad tight.

“Good game,” Leo and his boy, Bronze, said. We shook hands. “Yo, let me get ya number. I like how you move,” Leo stated.

“I bet you do. But we gonna keep it on the table. So run me my money, little man.”

“Yeah, aiight. I’ll show you little, alright.”

“No, lil’ daddy, the only thing you gonna show me is my paper. ’Cause you and ya nigga just got got. Bye-bye,” I said, wavin’ him on. Chanel started laughin’. The nigga was swoll.

Cash walked over to us, grinnin’. “Yo, why you game my mans ’n them?” he asked, handin’ me a stack of paper.

“’Cause I’ma hustler, nigga. That’s what we do. Thought you knew.” I tossed the money in my bag.

He laughed, eyein’ Chanel. She rolled her eyes, then twisted her face up. “Ugh! Why you all up in my damn face?”

“’Cause you fine, baby—”

“What you ladies drinkin’?” a nigga with a deep sexy voice asked us, cuttin’ Cash’s ass off. The muhfucka was the color of tar, but had beautiful smooth skin with shiny black brows, long eyelashes, beautiful big, dark eyes, and a head full of thick curly hair. He was rockin’ all white and the ice around his wrist and ears told me he was paid. Fine! Fine! Fine! That’s all a bitch can say. He was ’bout six feet two and I could tell the nigga got it in at the gym the way his white muscle shirt hugged his chest and stretched ’round his huge arms. Chanel peeped him, too, and her whole ’tude changed. She answered before I could open my mouth.

“Surprise us,” she said, eyein’ him all sexy-like and grinnin’. He smiled. And a bitch almost passed the fuck out when I saw those straight, white teeth and deep dimples. Cash peeped how we was checkin’ for his sexy ass.

“Oh, I see how ya’ll do. This pretty muhfucka come ’round and ya’ll ready to toss the pussy at him, but a nigga like me can barely get love. What, I ain’t black enough for ya asses?” he asked, throwin’ his arms open. Everyone laughed. He introduced the sexy dude as Coal. I smiled. The name fit him perfectly ’cause that’s exactly how black he was. But ugly he was not. This muh
fucka Coal was a beautiful, black diamond. I could feel my pussy churnin’ as I imagined havin’ my legs up over his shoulders with him shovin’ his tar-black dick in and outta me. I would bet my 960-dollar heels that the nigga had some good dick. But if he didn’t, he still could get it. Hell, the muhfucka coulda had a little dick and one nut, and…um, well, maybe not. I snapped to my senses and almost hit the fuckin’ floor when Cash said that fine, black, sexy nigga was his nephew.

Chanel let out a disgusted grunt.

Coal eyed me, then Chanel, and grinned. “One surprise for two beautiful ladies coming right up,” he said, walkin’ off. We—uh, correction—
I
excused us from Cash since Chanel was in bitch mode. I igged it, but as soon as we found a seat on the wraparound sofa, I confronted her ass.

“Bitch, what’s up with the stankness?” She reached into her orange Hèrmes bag, pullin’ out a pack of Doublemint. She took a stick, then offered me a piece. I shook my head. “No, bitch,” I snapped. “I wanna know why you actin’ all shady ’n shit.” She looked at me like I was buggin’ or somethin’. “Don’t look at me like that. You know what I’m talkin’ ’bout. You did that shit at the park, too, but I didn’t say shit. Now you here servin’ it. So what’s good?”

She rolled the gum up in her mouth. “How you know that nigga?”

“Who?” I asked, playin’ stupid.

“That nigga Cash.”

“I met him a while back when we were playin’ the Brooklyn Café,” I said, hopin’ she wouldn’t ask nothin’ else. “Dude was tryna get at me at first, but once I made it clear he wasn’t my flava he fell back. I run into him e’ery now and then. Why?”

She looked over at him, shakin’ her head. “I don’t like him.”

“Girl, you don’t even know him,” I said, laughin’.

“I don’t have to know him to know a snake when I see one.” She looked me dead in the eyes. “And that nigga over there”—she nodded toward Cash—“is a Mojave rattlesnake.”

I had to laugh, rememberin’ Chanel’s crazy fascination with reptiles. She knew e’ery type of snake listed, and the Mojave rattlesnake was one of the deadliest snakes in the world. And Cash was definitely a dangerous-type nigga.

“So I guess the nigga can’t get no pussy from ya?” I asked, still laughin’.

“Bitch, is you serious? Not hardly. That nigga will never splash his venom up in me. Hell, I wouldn’t even fuck his grimy ass with Tamia’s pussy. And we both know how much mileage that has on it.” We cracked up laughin’. Nothin’ else needed to be said.

We sat takin’ in the sights, pointin’ out which niggas were hot and which were not; which chicks were bangin’ and which were busted.

We peeped a few niggas walkin’ ’round the room carryin’ six-hundred-dollar bottles of Dom P and eight-hundred-dollar bottles of Krug, drinkin’ outta them shits like it was water. Neither of us were really impressed. But the nigga who did impress us was Coal when he came back with a twenty-five hundred-dollar bottle of Rémy Martin Louis XIII. I think Chanel and I were both ready to drop down low and suck the nigga’s dick.

He walked over to us, smilin’ that Crest-white smile. “I figured top-of-the-line beauties deserved a top-of-the-line drink,” he said, handin’ us the bottle with two snifters. “Enjoy.”

“What, you not gonna drink with us?” Chanel asked, eyein’ him up and down. Now the bitch was all flirty ’n shit.

He made a slight gesture with his head to the left of us. Chanel and I peeped a brown-skinned chick draped in some ill shit over
in the corner with two other high-post bitches. She stopped talkin’ and looked over in our direction for a hot second, then started talkin’ and laughin’ again. Without words, we already knew—the bitch was gettin’ the dick.

“Not tonight,” he said, smilin’ and lickin’ his lips. “Maybe some other time.”

“I like the sound of that,” Chanel said. This time the bitch
and
her girls looked over at us. Chanel kept on flirtin’. “Maybe we can set somethin’ up for later.” I elbowed her ass. I was not beat to be havin’ no shit pop off with some bitch over some dick; especially some dick I had no intentions of fuckin’
or
suckin’.

He grinned at both of us. “Are we talkin’ a two-for-one special?”

Me and Chanel looked at each other, then back at him like he had been sippin’ on bleach or some shit. This muhfucka was tryna get it in with the both of us. “Nigga, please,” I said, rollin’ my eyes. “Nice try, but no cigar. This is between you and my girl.”

He smiled, shruggin’ his shoulders. “Can’t blame a brotha for tryin’.”

Chanel slid the tip of her pierced tongue across her tangerine-painted lips. “So…like I was sayin’, maybe we can make it happen.”

“Maybe,” he replied, cuttin’ his eyes back over to his chick, then eyein’ Chanel like he was ready to slam his dick in her mouth. “Figure out a way to get me your number without lettin’ my girl catch you and we can make it happen. But be clear. I’ll give ya the dick, but there’s only one chick who’ll ever have the top spot.” He gestured his head back over toward Miss Thing.

Chanel smiled. “Oh, trust. That’s all I’m ever gonna want.”

“Then so be it,” he stated, pourin’ us our first drink. “Get at me with ya number without gettin’ caught and it’s all yours.” And with that said, the nigga spun on his Ferragamos, leavin’ Chanel and me gaggin’ as he walked over to his chick and planted a kiss
on her lips. She wrapped her arms around him, lettin’ e’eryone know he was hers. I wasn’t mad at her ’cause I woulda probably did the same damn thing to let them bitches know what time it was. Too bad she thought she was the only one.

“That bitch can’t handle a nigga like him,” Chanel said as we sipped our drinks. The shit was so fuckin’ smooth goin’ down. My nipples got real hard as the heat went through my body. “And I know that gold-plated bitch ain’t wettin’ his dick right. A nigga like that needs a bitch with that platinum pussy in his life.” She lifted her drink up in Coal’s and his chick’s direction, smiled, then took another sip. “Enjoy him while you can, honey, ’cause I’ma be fuckin’ ya man and runnin’ his pockets before the end of summer.”

I rolled my eyes, laughin’. Crazy thing, I knew the bitch was serious. “I need another damn blunt,” I said, gettin’ up to go to the bathroom.

I
didn’t stumble back up in the house until almost seven a.m. We shut the damn 40/40 down, then hung outside blazin’ and talkin’ shit to niggas who were tryna get at us. And a bitch was lit the hell up. Do you hear me? I’m talkin’ extra fucked up. At first we kept it cute, sippin’ from our glasses ’n shit, but after the fourth round, we tossed our glasses and started neckin’ that Réemy straight to the head. Niggas were buggin’ when they came by to congratulate us on our game and saw that we had dried the bottle out. Muhfuckas couldn’t believe how long and deep our necks were.

Ugh! Between all the trees and the liquor a bitch was spent. I don’t even remember drivin’, or how the hell I got the fuck home. All I know is, when I woke up I was layin’ in a pool of vomit and e’erything ’round me was spinnin’. Fast. My stomach felt heavy and rumbled up in knots. I sat up in bed, glanced at the digital
clock. It was 12:15. I still had on my Chanel blouse, and still had one leg in my jeans with one shoe on. Oh my God, I was gonna throw up. I jumped outta bed and bolted toward the bathroom, barely makin’ it to the toilet. I fell down on my knees and tossed my guts up all over the rim of the toilet, then started huggin’ the bowl. I was sweatin’ like a horse and heavin’, and as I was throwin’ up, somethin’ warm started runnin’ down the back of my legs and onto the floor. Ugh! A bitch had shitted on herself. I was too fuckin’ through!

I don’t know why the fuck I got all liquored up like that, but I was payin’ for it out the ass and I was a hot shitty mess—literally and figuratively. I wrapped a few sheets of toilet paper around my hand and attempted to wipe my ass, but started throwin’ up again. I was wiped the fuck out, and didn’t even have the strength to finish wipin’ my ass. I left the tissue up in the crack of my ass and tried to crawl back to my bed. But I never made it. I fell out facedown on my white-marbled floor.

I don’t know how many times I heard the dull chirpin’ in my ears, but when I finally lifted my head up from the bathroom floor, it took me a minute to come to my senses and realize that the noise was comin’ from outta my bag that was right in the middle of the bathroom. I had no fuckin’ idea how it got there. The noise stopped, then started up again. Somebody was really tryna get at me. I stretched my arm out and grabbed my bag, draggin’ it across the floor, then diggin’ through it.

I looked at the screen, slowly pullin’ myself up off the floor. “Hello,” I said, rubbin’ my head. I stood up and stared at myself in the mirror. My hair was matted, and streaks of crusty vomit were ’round the sides of my mouth. I pulled off my wrinkled shirt and threw it in the corner, pulled the dried-up toilet tissue
from outta my ass, tossin’ it in the toilet, then flushin’. I felt like throwin’ up again when I noticed dried-up shit on my floor.

“Damn, baby, you left a nigga hangin’ with his dick in his hand last night. Word up.”

I groaned, reachin’ under the sink cabinet and pullin’ out the liquid Lysol and a sponge to wipe up my mess. “I wasn’t on it like that. I ended up goin’ to the 40/40 club with Chanel.”

“I musta hit your sexy ass up mad times; you straight-dipped on a nigga.”

“My phone was in my bag,” I said, throwin’ the sponge in the trash, then puttin’ the bottle of disinfectant back. “I didn’t even hear it ringin’.”

“Oh, word? Well, while you were shakin’ ya ass all up in them niggas’ faces, I had to take it down with a stiff dick.”

“Aww,” I said as I washed my hands, then ran water into the bathtub. I poured in some Pooka Pure & Simple lavender bath crystals. “Poor baby. I apologize. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

“Yeah, you can let me come through and get up in that good pussy again.”

“Well, I guess we can arrange for that to happen.” Although I said it, I really wasn’t beat for a nigga to be crawlin’ all up over me, groanin’ up in my ear, or breathin’ up in my damn face. Not today, and definitely not the way I was feelin’. “What you gonna be doin’ tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? Nah, baby, you got it fucked up. I’m comin’ through now.”

“Now?!” I said shocked. “You jokin’, right?”

“Hell, nah, I ain’t jokin’. I wanna see you today, right this minute.”

“Unh-uh. You can’t come through now.”

“What you mean, I can’t come through now?” he asked, soundin’ like he had an attitude. “You got some other nigga up in there?”

Now, had a bitch been in her right frame of mind, I woulda slayed him a new asshole for tryna question me like I was his girl ’n shit. ’Cause on some real shit, that questionin’ mess and havin’ a nigga check for me did not work with me. I guess that’s why a bitch was single. But since I was all off centered ’n shit, I let it go and actually answered him.

“Not hardly. I’m hung the fuck over, that’s all. And I’m just wakin’ up.”

“Okay, and?”

“I look a hot, sloppy mess.”

He laughed. “And even in all of ya hot sloppiness, I bet ya still fine as fuck.”

“Yeah, okay,” I said, laughin’. “But, I still wanna chill and lay down. That’s it.”

“That works for me,” he said. “You can lay in my arms and we can chill together. I had you on the brain all muhfuckin’ night, word up. You had a nigga on brick. I’m comin’ through. So go do what you gotta do, and I’ma see you in ’bout a half-hour or so.”

“I’m not openin’ the door,” I said, slidin’ down into the water. It felt so damn good. I moaned.

“Say what? Aye, yo, don’t play with me.”

I was too weak to argue with his ass. “I’m not playin’. I’m dead-ass.”

“So what you sayin’? You ain’t beat to lay up in a nigga’s arms? You gonna deprive me from seein’ ya fine ass ’cause you went out and got twisted last night? Yo, that’s real cold, baby.” He lowered his voice. “Come on, baby, I got just what the doctor ordered to make ya feel better.”

“Oh, yeah…and what’s that?”

He laughed. “I’ll show you when I get there.” He hung up before I could speak. Instead of callin’ his ass back, I flipped the phone shut and placed it on the tub ledge, then laid my head back, slid my hand between my legs, and closed my eyes, smilin’.

“Mmmm…uh…uh…mmm,” I moaned as Grant rammed his dick in me for the third time since he had gotten to my spot over two hours ago. The nigga musta been on Viagra or some shit ’cause he just kept goin’ and goin’ and bustin’ off back to back, changin’ the condom, then slidin’ his dick back up in me. I swear I had no intentions of givin’ this fine muhfucka some pussy when he walked up in here lookin’ and smellin’ all fuckin’ good with his fresh cut, fly-ass Gucci runnin’ suit, and crispy Air Force Ones. But when the nigga stripped down to his silk boxers and all that dick started swingin’ and bouncin’ around, a bitch forgot to say no when he started kissin’ and rubbin’ and lickin’ all over me. And the minute he wrapped his soft lips around my titties that was it. Shit started feelin’ good and the next thing I know his dick started callin’ me loud ’n muthafuckin’ crystal clear: “Kat…Kat…Kat…suck me, bitch…drop down on ya knees and wet this big-ass dick.” And that’s just what I did.

“Uh…” I groaned as Grant pulled his dick outta me again, slowly slid it back in, then tip-drilled me, before slammin’ it back in. He banged my pussy deep with ’bout twenty fast strokes, slayin’ my pussy to pieces, then grindin’ up in me nice ’n slow another twenty strokes, before pickin’ up his pace. “Oh, fuck…damn, nigga…Oh, shit…I’m cummin’…”

“That’s right, baby, wet daddy’s dick up,” he grunted, slappin’ my ass, then reachin’ up under me and playin’ with my swollen clit. “Put that sweet cream all over this long, fat dick.” I can’t even front. As hung over as I was, the nigga had a bitch goin’.

I started throwin’ this pussy up on his dick, suckin’ and lickin’ all over my titties. The deeper his dick went, the wetter my pussy got; the hornier I got, the freakier I wanted it.

“Open up my ass,” I said in between a string of moans and groans, “Uh…Mmm…stop teasin’ me, nigga…fuck me…” He grabbed me by the hips and started speed fuckin’ me, poundin’ in and outta me.

“Aaah, shit…damn, girl…this pussy hot…Oh shit, I’m ’bout to bust…where you want it?”

“That’s right, nigga,” I said, grindin’ and windin’ my hips. “Give me that nut in the crack of my ass. I wanna feel it run down into my asshole.” He pumped a few more times, jabbin’ his dick in and outta me with deep rapid strokes before pullin’ out. He snatched the rubber off, then started jerkin’ his shit.

“Open them pretty ass cheeks up for me,” he said, gruntin’. I dug my fingas into my ass and pulled open my soft cheeks as wide as they would go, givin’ him a full view of my tight asshole and soppin’ wet pussy. “Yeah, baby,” he said, slappin’ the center of my crack with the weight of his brick-hard dick, “you got a pretty brown hole. You gonna let me get some of that?”

I was so fuckin’ heated that this muhfucka coulda fucked me in any and e’ery hole all night if he wanted. Thought he knew. “Yes…oh, yessssssss!” I screamed, pumpin’ my hips like only a ho in heat can. “Wet it with ya nut, muhfucka, then shove ya dick in it.” He rubbed and slapped his thick, heavy cock on my ass, then laid it in the center of my crack, rubbin’ the shaft against my asshole, then splattered his nut all up in it.

“Oooooh…aaaah…yes…” I started cummin’ as his warm, sticky cream slid down into my asshole, drippin’ along the back of my pussy. As he smeared his nut in with his thumb, I heard him tearin’ another condom wrapper with his teeth, then placin’ the
rubber over his still-brick dick. I looked back at him, smilin’. “That’s right, nigga…run ya dick up in my ass,” I said, archin’ my back.

I felt the pressure of his dick as he slowly tried to push the tip of his mushroom head into my hole. “Come on, baby…open that ass up for me.” He pushed in further. “That’s right, baby…”

“Uh…mmm,” I moaned, jerkin’ forward.

“Don’t run, baby…take this dick.”

He pushed farther.

“Oooooh…uh…mmmm…oh, yes…”

“That’s right…Mmm…yeah, baby…that ass’s openin’ up.”

He pushed further.

“Oh, yes…uh…damn, nigga.”

“Come on, baby, take daddy’s big dick.”

He pushed farther.

“Uh…”

“It’s almost there, baby…” He pushed further. “Yeah, just like that…come on…open that sweet ass up for me.”

A bitch was startin’ to shake. He only had half his dick in. And it was hurtin’ and startin’ to burn, but feelin’ oh so fuckin’ good at the same time. It was delicious pain. The kinda pain that shot through my back, crashed up into my stomach, then exploded onto my clit. And by the time he finally got e’ery inch of his nine in me, I had already nutted twice. I arched my back, then buried my face down into the mattress and bit down on the sheets as he grabbed my titties and pulled at my nipples until he had me floatin’. The pressure and heat from this nigga’s dick up in my ass had my pussy drippin’. A bitch was on fire!

“Yeah, that’s it…it’s all in now,” he moaned, gettin’ into a nice, deep groove. Once I loosened up and got comfortable with his dick inside me, I started pumpin’ and windin’ and slammin’ my
hips back. “Yeah, you like that dick, don’t you? That’s right, baby, fuck daddy’s dick…” The muhfucka pumped the hell outta my ass, stretchin’ my hole beyond capacity. And I was backin’ it up on him, bouncin’ and shakin’ my ass. “Oh shit, girl…that’s it…throw that ass up on this dick…yeah, baby…uh, shit…”

“Aaah…uh…mmm…damn, nigga…uh, I’m cummin’…” I moaned. The nigga had my insides rumblin’. It felt like my uterus was shakin’. “Uh…oooooh…” I was gettin’ ready to explode from my asshole to my pussy.

“Damn, baby…ya ass is so tight,” he said, grindin’ deep inside my ass, then grabbin’ me by the hips and long strokin’ it. “Aaah, shit! Oh, fuck! This ass is so damn hot and wet. Aaah, fuck! This big dick got you nuttin’ out ya ass? That’s right, baby…cum all over daddy’s dick…”

And together, we moaned, groaned, screamed, and nutted ’til we both passed out sticky, sweaty, and exhausted.

I’m not sure how long we slept, but when I finally opened my eyes, Grant was spoonin’ behind me, slidin’ his dick back up in my still wet and well-fucked pussy. I swear the nigga was tryna fuck me to death. And this went on from the time the sun went down ’til the sun came up the followin’ mornin’.

Eight a.m. the next mornin’, the smell of all-night fuckin’ was still in the air, and a bitch was still floatin’—and sore—from the dick Grant served me. I can’t front, the nigga felt good inside of me, and when he asked if he could hit this pussy raw, I almost caved in and let him. Real talk, I wanted to feel how good the dick woulda been skin to skin. But I ain’t no weak bitch so I told his ass no. Ain’t no way I was gonna play myself, knowin’ the
nigga ain’t mine. When his cell kept goin’ off, it was what a bitch needed to remind her ass that the nigga’s fuckin’ two other bitches on the regular. Yeah, the dick was right. And, yeah, a bitch wanted to feel his nut up in her. But ain’t that much good dick in the world to have me playin’ Russian roulette with my fuckin’ life, feel me?

As much as I enjoyed havin’ a stiff dick up in me, and a nigga layin’ next to me in bed, the reality of him not bein’ my man was as bright as the fuckin’ sun that was startin’ to shine through my blinds. Though there was somethin’ ’bout the nigga’s style I was really diggin’, I wasn’t beat to be sharin’ a nigga and his dick with another bitch. And I definitely wasn’t down with no Casanova-type nigga who was givin’ the dick to a slew of bitches.

Grant was still sleep, snorin’. Well…actually, it sounded more like purrin’, and rightfully so after the balls-deep dick suckin’ I put on his ass last night, then again early this mornin’. Had the nigga’s whole body shakin’ as he twisted up his face and moaned and begged, tryna get me up offa his shit ’cause he wasn’t ready to spit.

The nigga’s phone started goin’ off again. He was either in a deep coma or was layin’ there iggin’ it. I shook his ass. “You need to answer ya shit, or turn it off,” I said.

He grunted, stretchin’ and rollin’ over. “What time is it?” he asked, pickin’ his phone up off the nightstand, glancin’ at the time, then checkin’ the caller ID. “I ain’t beat,” he said, turnin’ it off.

I smirked. “Somebody is really tryna get at ya ass. Don’t you think you should listen to ya messages?”