Daddy Long Stroke

“Because sexually, you’ve been all the man I’ve needed. Besides, it’s too risky out here. God forbid, I ever catch something. I need to know exactly who I need to confront. I don’t want to be running around trying to figure out or guess who gave me shit. My body, my pussy, I have to be responsible for. Not you or anyone else. But it would be nice to one day be able to give myself to a man without using condoms; to be able to feel him cum deep inside of me and him feel my warm wetness all over him. Sometimes I fantasize about that someone being you, but then I laugh, knowin’ that’s the craziest shit to entertain.”

“Why you say that? Anything’s possible.”

She laughs. “Alley Cat, please. I might be many things, but I will never be delusional. You know like I do that you’re the type of man who is always going to want, maybe need, multiple partners. And unfortunately, there’s not going to be too many women who are going to accept that for what it is. At some point, they are going to want more from you. And get frustrated when they can’t have it.”

That’s their problem, not mine, I think, chucklin’. “Damn, you got a muhfucka all figured out, huh? Are you speakin’ for ya’self?”

“Not at all. I know there will never be a shortage of pussy for you. And I’m not bothered or concerned about it.”

I ask, jokin’ly, “So tell me, pretty baby. Are you addicted to the sex or to me?”

“Neither,” she says, laughin’

I laugh wit’ her. “Yeah, right, don’t front.”

“Let’s just say you’re my guilty pleasure. I’m very clear on our arrangement. Like I told you before, it works for me because it’s what I want for now. Everything I do for you, and with you, is because I want to. Not because I need to. The minute this thing we got goin’ on no longer works for me, then I will walk away. And you can do the same. No hard feelings.”

Outta nowhere I say, “Not if you have my baby.” I’m not sure if the trees got me talkin’ sideways, or if it’s the fact that I’ve been kinda thinkin’ ’bout her proposition; sorta wonderin’ what my seed would look like; tryna imagine what kinda father I’d be. I never really gave havin’ kids much thought ’til she asked me to give her one.

“Excuse me? OhmyGod, did you say what I think you said?”

Silence. Damn, nigga, what the fuck you thinkin’? Ya ass is buggin’, for real. I knew I shouldna bought my smoke from that nigga, Storm. He probably got my shit dusted out; got a muhfucka talkin’ crazy ’n shit.

“Alley Cat?”

“Yeah, wassup?”

“Repeat what you just said to me.”

“I’m sayin’, yo…there’s no way you gonna bounce, if we have a child together.”

“So does that mean you’re considering it?”

“It means I’ve been givin’ it some thought. We can talk more

’bout it when I get out there.”

“That works for me. Listen, I gotta get ready to drive out to Santa Monica to meet with a client. Have a great time in Phoenix. And try not to give out too much of that good stuff while you’re out.”

“Thanks, babe. Don’t worry. I’ma have enough nut for you when I get back.”

“Mmmmm, you promise?”

“No doubt. You know this dick comes fully loaded, baby.” Wit’out thinkin’, I slide my hand down into my boxer briefs and start playin’ wit’ my shit. E’ery time I talk to her, she bricks this dick.

“And I can’t wait for you to get here to unload it all over my pussy, ass and face.”

“I got you, baby,” I tell her, strokin’ my dick ’til it thickens. She got me wantin’ to bust a nut. “Yo, keep that pussy tight for me.”

“Always, baby.”

I smile. “What’s my name?”

She sucks her teeth, laughin’. “Daddy Long Stroke.”

I deepen my strokes. “Say that shit like you mean it, Cherry.”

She moans. “Daaaaaaaddy Loooooooong Strrrrrrrrrrrroke.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout. Don’t forget that shit either.”

“Bye, Alley Cat.”

“Bye, baby. You be safe out there.”

“You, too,” she says. “Call me when you get back.”

“No doubt.” We disconnect. I set my cell up on the counter. Spit in my hand, then yank a hot one out right here in the middle of my kitchen floor.

When I’m done spittin’ my nut, I walk over to the kitchen sink and wash my hands. I take the paper towel I use to dry my hands and wipe up the floor, then toss it in the garbage. The weed and poppin’ that nut got a muhfucka hungry as hell, I think, openin’ the ’fridge and pullin’ out a pack of four veggie patties. I place ’em in a pan wit’ some olive oil, then let ’em brown. I pick up my cell and decide to hit Pops up. “Hey, old man,” I say the minute he answers. “How you?”

“Good,” he says. “Where you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been kinda layin’ low, feel me?”

He chuckles. “Woman drama, hunh?”

“Never that. I don’t entertain that mess. Why you say that, though?”