Daddy Long Stroke

Yeah, I tried to snap her muthafuckin’ windpipe. Once she bit my arm up and I saw blood, it was a wrap. I’ve never put my hands on a chick, and I have never allowed one to put their hands on me. So why this bitch thought she was gonna be an exception is beyond me. I shake my head. These hoes kill me. They jump up in a nigga’s face, hookin’ off on a muhfucka, then don’ think they should get the shit beat outta them. Fuck what ya heard. Don’t put ya muthafuckin’ hands on me, and I won’t put mine on you. I’m not down wit’ that shit. But, be clear. If you bring it, then all bets are off. You gonna get lumped the fuck up. And that’s what it is.

“Then I guess you woulda got what ya ass deserved.”

“Are you fucking serious? You think I deserved having my neck snapped?”

“You put ya muthafuckin’ hands on me, hell, yeah. You lucky I didn’t break ya damn face.”

“Well, you shoulda never lied to me.”

I shake my head. “So I lied. And?”

“And you should feel fucked up about it. I thought we were better than that. You know I woulda done anything for you. All you had to do was kept shit real. But, noooo, nigga. You had to be on some extra shit.”

I sigh, rubbin’ my chin. “Yo, listen. You right. I shoulda kept it real wit’ you. But I didn’t.” She wants to know why. And on some real shit, I don’t know. “Because I felt like it,” I tell her. She sucks her teeth. Asks if I’m gonna at least apologize. “Listen, what I did to you mighta been fucked up, but I’m not gonna apologize for it. I did what I did ’cause I wanted to. Just like you put ya hands on me ’cause you wanted to. And that’s what it is.”

“So basically fuck me, right?”

“Your words, not mine,” I say, endin’ the call.

32

Six A.M., I wake up. My dick hard, heavy, and achin’ wants release. A muhfucka’s mad horny. And straight jackin’ my shit ain’t gonna cut it. Not at this moment. I need to stick it in sumthin’. But I ain’t beat for a buncha noise. I get outta bed, go into my walk-in closet and come back out wit’ my “Baby Got Back Sex Doll” wit’ the wireless vibratin’ pussy and ass. I lube it up, then fuck it doggie-style grabbin’ its perky titties and thrustin’ this naked cock up in it. This is the only time I get to fuck raw. I close my eyes and imagine I’m gettin’ it in wit’ Halle Berry. I’m tearin’ that ass up a mile a minute, givin’ her all of me. Its pussy walls vibrate along the sides of my dick. I pull out, pour more lube up in it, then slide my dick back in, pumpin’ ’n gruntin’. “Aaah, shit.”

Yo, hol’ up, I know there’s no substitute for some real, live, pussy. But e’ery now and then, a muhfucka ain’t beat for all the extras. I don’t use this thing often, but when I do…man, listen, I get my two-hundred-and-sixty dollars outta it. And the good thing is, I ain’t gotta worry ’bout it stressin’ me the hell out. I can bust all up in it, clean it up, then lock it away ’til the next time. And that’s exactly what I do.

’Bout eight-thirty I head over to the gym, get in a two-hour workout, then come back home to shower. As I’m steppin’ into my boxers, my cell rings. The special ring tone alerts me that it’s Moms.

“So you gonna let days go by without calling?” she asks as soon as I answer.

“Nah, I been busy,” I lie.

“Mmmph,” she grunts. “Too busy to pick up a phone, I see.”

“Sumthin’ like that. But if you really want the truth, I figured I give you some space since you were spazzin’ out the last time I saw you.”

“Well, if you wanna live in your feelings, then you go right ahead. When you’re ready to get over yourself, you know I’ma still love you. And I’ma still curse you the hell out when need be.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Well, I’m calling you for two reasons. One, to let you know your father was admitted into the hospital last night.”

I flop down on my bed, shocked. “Hospital? What happened to him?” She tells me that he was havin’ chest pains. That his blood pressure is sky-high and they’re keeping him under observation for another night. That he’s at UMDNJ University Hospital in Newark. She gives me the visitin’ times. And for some strange reason, I’m feelin’ responsible for what happened to ’im. “Damn,” I say, rubbin’ my forehead, “was he havin’ a heart attack or sumthin’?”

“They’re not sure. Hopefully, they’ll know more once all the tests are in. In the meantime, that’s where he’s gonna be.”

“Cool. I’ll be up there later on tonight. Now, what was ya other reason for callin’?”

“I met Ramona.”

“Who?” I ask, frownin’. She repeats herself. “I heard you. But I’m surprised. Where’d you meet that broad at?”

“Over at your father’s. She showed up there looking for you, but when your father told her you weren’t there, she asked to come in to speak with him. He thought I might wanna have a chat with her as well.”

“About what?” I ask, feelin’ myself gettin’ agitated.

“She told us she’s carryin’ your baby.”

“Yeah, and? She’s the chick I was tellin’ you about.”

“I figured that. Well, she says she’s keeping it. She also said you told her you wanted nothing to do with her or the baby.”