Daddy Long Stroke

The followin’ week, I’m standin’ outside Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport baggage claim, waitin’ for Vita to scoop me up. She blows the horn, pullin’ up just as I’m pullin’ out my cell to hit her up to see where the fuck she is. It’s brick out this bitch. Shit. I thought I was gonna be comin’ down here to some warmer weather, and it feels like I’m still in muthafuckin’ Jersey. This hawk is cuttin’ through a muhfucka’s bones. I quickly open the back door, toss my bag in. I’m surprised to see this pecan-brown honey sittin’ in the back on the driver’s side. I hope this pumkin-head bitch ain’t tryna front wit’ her peeps like I’m her muthafuckin’ man, I think, openin’ the front passenger door, then gettin’ in. I look at Vita. Blink, blink again. She’s changed her look up. She’s wearin’ what looks like a damn Beyoncé wig! Long, bronze-colored ringlets cascadin’ down her back! If you asks me, it’s too much damn hair for her lil’ ass. And to top it off, she has the nerve to have muthafuckin’ earrings the size of hula hoops danglin’ from her ears. Lookin’ at her reminds me of a preschooler bein’ dressed up for Halloween. “What’s good?” I say, shuttin’ the door. I can tell Vita is expectin’ some tongue or sumthin’ by the way she tries to lean over toward me. “I see you changed up ya look.”

“Hey, sexy man,” she says, grinnin’. “You like?”

I grin. “It’s different.”

She smiles. “Alley Cat, this is my cousin, Naomi. Naomi, this Alley…uh, my friend Alex I was telling you about.” Her people says hello.

I turn my head, lookin’ back at her sexy ass. Catch her grinnin’ at me. I can see she’s not a midget…uh, little person, like her cousin. I lick my lips on the sly. “Wassup?”

“Nothing much,” she says, shakin’ her head. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Actually, you’re all Vita talks about.”

Yeah, and I bet she got ya horny ass curious, too. “Oh, word?”

“Girl, stop lying,” Vita snaps, laughin’. “He is not. I talk about other things, too.”

“Yeah, right. But you talk about him more. For a minute there, I thought she was making everything up.”

Vita laughs. “Oooh, bitch, you wrong for that! You know I wouldn’t do that. Why are you tryna hate on me any-damn-way?” I’m kinda shocked to hear how Vita is talkin’. This bitch thinks she’s a hood goddess. I wanna bust out laughin’ ’cause she sounds funny as hell. But I keep quiet. Let them go back ’n forth as if I’m not in the car. “Girl, you know I ain’t ever lied to you about anything.”

“Hmmph, yeah, that may be true. But, sweetie, you remember all those imaginary boyfriends you used to have growing up. Well, I really thought he was one of them.” She starts laughing. I cut my eye over at Vita as she speeds down Interstate 285. She looks tight that her blood is tryna play her. I chuckle, pullin’ down the sun visor and slidin’ back the slider for the mirror. I act like I got sumthin’ in my eye.

“Ooooh, bitch, you really tryin’ it. Annnyway, Alex, Naomi is going to be here for the holidays, too.” She goes into tellin’ me how her peeps drove up from Houston to surprise her; how she got there today, so she didn’t get a chance to give me a heads-up. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Again, I catch this ho in the backseat tryna check for me. Yeah, this bitch is fuckable. I feel my dick start to thicken. “Nah, it’s all good. I don’t mind; not at all. The more the merrier,” I add, flip-pin’ the visor back up. I say it in a way that lets ’em both know, if they wanna get into some three-way fuckin’, I’m wit’ it.

Vita shoots me a look. But I ignore her ass. Her and her peeps continue yappin’ ’bout one thing or another, tryna pull me into their little bullshit-ass conversation. I ain’t beat. I give ’em some rhythm, but start tunin’ ’em out after ’bout ten minutes. The only thing on my mind is fuckin’ the cutie in the backseat.

When we finally get to the crib, I peep a metallic Benz coupe parked in the driveway. I notice the tags and know it’s her peoples’ whip. The minute we get outta Vita’s truck and into her spot, her peoples keeps cuttin’ her eyes at me on the low, smirkin’. Yeah, this bitch wanna fuck. Knowin’ how bitches like to run their mouths, I’d bet a week’s worth of nut that Vita has told her all about my stroke game. And now she wants to get up close and personal wit’ this dick. This ho is askin’ for trouble. And if I have my way, she’s gonna get a dickful of it straight up in her guts. She goes upstairs, then comes back down fifteen minutes later, completely changed in a purple sweat suit that clings to her fat ass.

“Where you on your way to?” Vita asks her.