Deep Throat Diva

someone else is gonna eventually be taking his spot. This kitty needs to be stroked every two to three days; otherwise it starts clawin’ my insides out. So ain’t no way I’d ever be able to go four years, hell four weeks, without sex.”

Bitch, every other week someone else is taking his spot. I keep my mouth shut.

“I’m with you on that,” Bianca says, shaking her head. “It’d drive me crazy.”

The door opens and in comes this very attractive, brown-skinned female I’ve never seen before. Behind her is this deliciously, tall, dark nigga with a neatly trimmed beard and dreads. He takes a seat while the chick is at the receptionist desk talking to Felecia. I cut my eye back over at the dude.

For a brief moment, he looks vaguely familiar to me. Damn, I know I’ve seen him somewhere, I think, taking another section of Bianca’s hair and running it through my fingers. I snip the ends; then, again, maybe not. I erase the thought from my head as she walks over to him, then kisses him lightly on the lips. Clearly marking her territory and letting the rest of the bitches in the room know—he’s taken. Shuwanda waves her over.

“New customer?” I ask her, knowingly.

She nods. “Yeah, we met a few weeks back. Her daughter goes to my son’s school.”

Very good, I think, smiling. Keep them dollars coming in. She smiles and says hello to everyone. Shuwanda introduces her as Robyn. I give her a warm welcome; introduce myself as the owner, then bring my attention back to Bianca. She quickly changes the subject, asking if we’ve set a wedding date, yet. I tell her no.

Robyn asks, “How long have you been engaged?”

“Almost four years,” I tell her. I can almost see her thinking how crazy that is. “I know. It’s been an extra long engagement.”

“Oh, I totally understand. James and I have been engaged for almost three years. But we finally set a date.”

“Good for you,” I say. “Is that him sitting over there?”

She nods, beaming.

Shuwanda lowers her voice and says, “Giiiirrl, he’s fine.”

“Thanks,” she says, smiling. “I really have to admit, I got me a damn good man.”

Alicia walks by, ear hustling as usual. She stops, puts one hand on her wide hip, and says, “Chile, and a good man is hard to come by; especially one that doesn’t come with a bunch of unnecessary baggage and bullshit. Or one who wants to cheat on you or beat you.”

Shuwanda adds, “Or wants you to be his momma.”

“Or is too damn emotionally needy,” Alicia adds.

“Wellllllll,” I say, raising my hand in the air. “Sounds like ya’ll trying to get service started up in here. ’Cause you preaching.”

Robyn’s smile widens as she retrieves her phone and begins to text. “Thank God, I don’t have to deal with any of that. I am truly blessed.”

“Amen to that,” Bianca cosigns.

A few minutes later, I peep her “blessing” getting up and walking over toward us. Everyone practically stops what they’re doing, drooling as he makes his way over. My eyes are fixed on him as well, but I quickly shift them when he locks his eyes on mine. He speaks to everyone, and we all speak back.

Robyn digs in her bag and pulls out a set of keys. “By the time you get back, I should be almost done.”

“Aiight, I’ll be back in an hour. Ya’ll ladies take care.” He glances over at me on the sly.

I blink, blink again. Hearing his voice; watching his swagger, it hits me. OhmyGod, I had this nigga’s dick in the back of my throat.

FIVE

After all this time, besides not having steady access to Jasper’s dick, or being able to lay in his arms at night, I don’t know what I hate more about going to see him in prison—the drive or the painstaking process. When Jasper was at Rahway State…uh, I mean East Jersey State Prison, it wasn’t bad—the drive that is. Hell, we could fuck if we wanted. Not that we did ’cause there was no way I was going to play myself like that out in the open. But the opportunity to get at his dick was always there. But standing in a pen like cattle with a bunch of trifling-ass, ghetto bitches was a hot mess! And then these bitches wanna fight and argue about who cut the line, and who was standing where first. Oh, and let me not even get started on how them coons carried on once they got inside the visiting area. From hogging up the microwaves and talking shit about it—’cause you could get food out of the vending machines and heat it up—to sucking and fucking, they carried on. Straight niggerish!

Now, hold up. I’m not saying every chick who was out there to see their loved one was ghetto…but, baaaby, trust me. Most of them hoes were. Not to mention the fucking retarded-ass CO’s who I believe are hired to make the whole experience as miserable and as uncomfortable as they possibly can so you’ll get so pissed off that you don’t wanna come back. Miserable bastards! Still, being able to see Jasper whenever I wanted—at least three, sometimes four, times a week between window and contact visits—made all the extra shit I had to go through bearable.

But, now…mmmph, forget it. The drive alone is enough to make me sick! Jasper claims the only reason he put in for the transfer from Rahway to way down here in this Godforsaken hick town was to get into a halfway house faster. He completed some kind of TC—therapeutic community—drug program, and his application to a halfway house has finally been approved. Now he’s waiting to leave. And the good thing is he’ll be closer to home. But, shit! In the meantime I still have to take this treacherous drive! Truth be told, I wish he would have kept his ass at Rahway. Oh, well.

I cut my eye over at Stax as I slow down and prepare to stop at a light. He’s laid all the way back in his seat knocked the hell out, lightly snoring. And that’s fine by me. I let my eyes roam all over his thick, muscular body longer than I should. I take in the sparkle of his diamond-crusted Rolex and pinky ring, then shift my eyes back on the road when the light turns green, making a left turn onto route 49. As soon as I turn right onto Burlington Road, he wakes up.

“Damn, ma, you aiight?”

I glance over at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. How’d you sleep?”

“Like a newborn baby,” he says, smiling while adjusting his seat upward.

“A newborn?” I repeat, laughing. “More like a wild boar.”

He laughs with me. “Sorry ’bout that, ma. I didn’t mean to crash out on you like that. I planned on keeping you company.”

“The way you were snoring,” I tease, “I knew you had to be tired. So, trust me. It’s quite alright. Besides, I’m used to taking this ride by myself.” I can feel him staring at me. I glance over, arching my brow. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shakes his head, smiling. “Nah, I was just thinkin’.”

“About?”

“How beautiful you are.” I blush, shifting in my seat; visibly uncomfortable by his remark. He notices this and says, “No disrespect meant, ma. I’m sayin’. You mad cool, that’s all. And you got flava that I’m sure got the nigga’s sweatin’ you, hard.”

I force a smile. “I don’t know about all that. But thanks for the compliment.”

“You’re a good woman, Pash.” This is the only nigga outside of Jasper who I actually let call me that. Anyone else, I’ve always checked. But him…I don’t know, I guess it’s the way he says it in that Ja-Rule-sounding voice of his. “I hope Jasp knows how lucky he is.”

I feel guilt rising up in me. I swallow it back, hard. “Umm, why you say that?”

“C’mon, ma, you been ridin’ this bid out wit’ my fam hard. And I haven’t heard shit ’bout you creepin’ on him. That’s wassup.”

Because I do my dirt discreetly. “And you won’t,” I say without blinking an