Daddy Long Stroke

“I know. And I wanna spend it with you. I’m not gonna have the kids, so make sure you make some time to get right with me, too. I got something for you.”

Aye, yo, I know I just told this bitch my birthday’s in two weeks. And I know I told Vita my birthday was on Saturday. Well, peep this shit out. A nigga like me has about fifty different birthdays throughout the year. Hell, I can barely keep up wit’ ’em. But they damn sure keep the gifts flowin’; dig what I’m sayin’?

“Oh, word? You copped me that new Xbox 360 joint?”

“Yeah, I got you that, and something else.”

I grin. “Oh, yeah? And does that sumthin’ else come wit’ a side dish of hot pussy?”

She laughs. I roll my eyes up in my head. “Yep, and a slow, wet dick suck.”

“That’s wassup,” I say, openin’ and closin’ my legs. I feel my dick startin’ to come alive. “Tell big daddy how you gonna wet this dick.”

“Well…” Vita steps up in my space carryin’ a tray wit’ a bottle of Dannon water, and a drink for herself. I take the water, then put my finga up for her to give me a minute. She sits ’cross from me, sippin’ her drink, waitin’. “…I’ma kiss the head of it, twirl my tongue all around it, then I’ma suck and lick all over your balls, one at a time, then slowly pull ’em both into my mouth while jerking you off.”

I cut my eye over at Vita. Slowly open and close my legs, tryna pinch down the swellin’ in my boxers. She’s actin’ like she’s busy goin’ through CDs, frontin’ like she’s not listenin’ to my conversation. She downs her drink, then goes back into the kitchen.

Shavron makes slurpin’ noises into the phone, bringin’ me back to the conversation. She got my shit slowly brickin’ up. And listenin’ to this ho got me ready to beat sumthin’ up. But before I ever consider givin’ this bitch another dose of this dick, I make a mental note to buy her some K-Y Jelly lubricant, Wet, Astroglide, or some other shit to help wet her ass up. I pull my cell from my ear and glance at the time. Damn. I’ve been bullshittin’ wit’ this freak for almost fifteen minutes. I guess it’s kinda fucked up that I’m still talkin’ wit’ this chick instead of vibin’ wit’ Minnie Mouse.

Vita returns wit’ a bottle of Patrón and a small bowl of sliced limes. I watch her pour herself another drink, squeeze in one of the limes, then downs it. She pours another one, downs it. Oh, shit, I think. This lil’ bitch’s a real lush. I peep her eyein’ me as she walks by goin’ into her sittin’ room-slash-office. She closes the door, then a few minutes later comes back out, and goes into the kitchen.

“Listen, baby. I gotta bounce. I’ll hit you up when I get home.”

She sucks her teeth. “That’s real fucked up. I wasn’t fin—”

I hang up, cuttin’ her off as Vita wobbles back into the room, then sits down. She’s fumblin’ through CDs again. The bitch can’t seem to sit her ass still. She acts like she got an assful of bugs crawin’ and bitin’ up in her. She keeps gettin’ up and goin’ from one room to the other. I frown, wonderin’ if this ho is ADHD or some shit.

“Dig, baby,” I say, lookin’ at her as she sits back in the chair ’cross from me. “Sorry ’bout that.”

She shrugs, twistin’ her face up. “It musta been pretty important for you to stay on the phone for almost twenty minutes when you supposed to be chilling with me.”

Oh, shit. This bitch got the nerve to be actin’ jealous. I raise my brow, but say nuthin’. Yo, fuck her! Aiight, aiight…yeah, I know it was straight-up rude. Oh, muthafuckin’ well. She stares at me. Picks up her drink, then gulps it down. “The way you were whispering I thought it mighta been somebody else, like your girl or something. It sounded like you were having a very intimate conversation. Is she somebody you deal with?”

I think. Catch myself from gettin’ at her neck for tryna check for me. Nigga, stay focused. I open my water and take a long drink. I need a muthafuckin’ blunt!

“Why?”

She shrugs, pourin’ herself another drink. “Just asking.”

“Yo, check this out,” I say, leanin’ forward in my seat. “I’m solo, all day, e’ery day. I don’t have a girl. And I don’t answer to one. So I fuck who I wanna fuck, smell me? But if I did have a chick, make no mistake, I wouldn’t be sittin’ here wit’ you. Dig what I’m sayin’?”

She nods. “I hear you. So, have you ever cheated?”

I frown. “Why?”

She shrugs again. “Just curious.”

Now, on some real shit, a nigga ain’t really ever been in a serious relationship, so technically, I’ve never cheated. But fuckin’ a string a bitches? You already know! “Nah, can’t say that I have.”

“That’s good. I hate men who cheat.”