Daddy Long Stroke

“Alley Cat,” I say, starin’ at her peoples. Gotdaaamn, this bitch is fine! Her slanted hazel eyes can hypnotize a muhfucka. I’ve fucked some bad bitches in my day, but this one right here is in a class all by herself.

“Alley Cat, this is Katrina, Kat for short.” She pushes her girl closer toward me. “Kat, Alley Cat. Now ya’ll make nice and exchange numbers. Geesh.”

I smile, watchin’ her girl walk off. “So, you ready to drop them digits?”

She huffs, pullin’ out her iPhone. “Nigga, give me ya damn number.” Gee and ’em come walkin’ outta the bathroom as she is programmin’ my number into her cell. She dials the number, lets it ring, then disconnects the call.

I grin. “So when we goin’ out?”

“When you ready to drop some paper on a bitch,” she says, switchin’ off toward her girl.

“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?”