Daddy Long Stroke

She shrugs. “I really haven’t been looking, besides most men seem to have a complex being seen out in public with me. They’ll be okay with coming by late at night for a booty call, but that’s it. Sometimes I want more than just sex.”

As fucked up as it is, I can relate how them other muhfuckas mighta been feelin’. ’Cause on some real shit, I don’t know if I wanna be out in public wit’ her ass either. I know it’s fucked up, but I’m keepin’ shit real. I mean, she seems cool ’n all, but I ain’t really beat to be out ’n about wit’ her like that. Not tonight, anyway. But tomorrow I might feel differently after I done fucked her down a few times. Or better yet, after I’ve blazed a few trees.

“So, you want a man?”

“I want companionship. Sometimes I get lonely and just want someone to hold me, and to know that I can count on him to always have my back and be real with me.”

I shake my head, thinkin’, Here we go wit’ this shit. I glance at my watch. It’s almost seven-thirty. I take a deep breath. Allow Usher’s “Love You Gently” to fill the room. Under different circumstances and wit’ a different type of chick, a nigga’s dick would already be brick and I’d be dickin’ her down. “I feel you, ma. Some niggas just gonna play you out. Take what they can from you, then bounce. You need to be careful who you open ya heart and legs to, that’s all. You just gotta keep ya head up, baby. And know all muhfuckas ain’t fucked up like that.”

“I know.” She takes another sip of her drink, starin’ at me. She tilts her head. “Are you fucked up like that?”

Hell yeah, bitch! Fall for a nigga like me, I’ma become ya worse muthafuckin’ nightmare. I shake my head. “Nah, pretty baby, I ain’t the one. I’ma real nigga.”

“So, what are you lookin’ for?”

“You mean now?”

“Yeah,” she says, sippin’ her drink, then sittin’ it down on the coffee table, “now and in the future.”

I look her dead in the eyes. “On some real shit, I ain’t lookin’ for no extras right now. Just some good, hot, wet pussy. And a nice, slow dick suck wit’ no strings, and no muthafuckin’ stress.”

“And what about later?”

“Some more pussy.”

She nods. “I appreciate your honesty.”

“It’s what I do, baby girl. And, just so you know. I may not be ya man, but while I’m here chillin’ wit’ ya, I’ma fuck you like I am.”

She smiles, gettin’ up. “Excuse me for one minute.” I watch her walk back into her office, then shut the door. For a split second, I start thinkin’ the lonely bitch went in there to cry. But I don’t put too much energy into it. I check my cell for any messages instead. There are ten.

“Hey, baby, it’s Akina. I didn’t want nothin’. Was just thinkin’ ’bout you, and wanted to make sure everything was okay with ya grandmother. Give me a call when you can.”

Delete.

“Alley Cat, you ain’t shit, nigga. You can’t even be man enough to tell a bitch to her face you ain’t beat no more. That’s real fucked up, nigga. But, it’s all good. And in case you don’t know who the fuck this is. It’s Sherria. You know. The bitch who gave you her heart and you just fucked it over. I want my fuckin’ house keys back.” Bitch, change ya muthafuckin’ locks.

Delete.

“What’s good with you, sexy? This’s Rachel. When you comin’ back down to Tampa? I could definitely use another hit of that good stuff. Give me a call when you get a chance.” I press seven to save.

“Hey, big daaaaady, it’s Cherry. I miss you, baby. It’s been three months toooooo long. When you comin’ back to L.A.? My pussy is achin’ for you. I wanna see you, soon. Give me a call so we can make it happen.”

Save. Now, this bitch right here, is a real live dick rider. I smile, rememberin’ my last visit wit’ her freaky ass. She had a nigga out there for almost a week, fuckin’ me e’ery which way. Damn, she got some good-ass pussy. The bitch can’t suck dick for shit, but she ain’t scared of takin’ it. And she even likes it in that big ass of hers. Man, listen…this bitch’s asshole is as wide as the Grand Canyon, and handles a dick better than most pussies. Whew! When I finally bounced from her spot, I left up outta there wit’ a certified bank check for ten grand. Yeah, a nigga’s definitely tryna check for her, again.

“Hey, big daddy. It’s Ramona. I miss you soooo much, baby. I can’t take this shit. I want some more of that good dick, baby. It’s killing me not being with you. Pleeeeeeaaaaase call me as soon as you get this.” She leaves two more messages.

Delete. Delete. Delete. This bitch is too clingy. And a potential hazard. I fucked her—three months ago—e’ery day for a week, and the bitch talkin’ ’bout she’s in love wit’ a muhfucka. Bitch, is you serious?!? I told this ho from dip not to go there, and she does anyway. So, hell no! No more dick for her nutty-ass.