Kitty-Kitty, Bang-Bang

for a nut or two. That’s how hungry I am.

I go downstairs to fix sumthin’ to eat. “What, you bored? None’a ya lil’ hoes ’round for you to play wit’?” I ask, openin’ up the ’fridge. I pull out the carton of eggs, some cheddar cheese, and a green pepper. I decide to fix an omelet.

“Nah, beautiful, never that. I can always find me a broad to get at. But, that’s not what I want.”

I pull out a skillet. “Oh, really? So, what you want?”

“Yo, I’ma keep it gee wit’ you, aiight?”

“Oh, please do.”

“I want some pussy, straight up. And I wanna fuck.”

I laugh, choppin’ the green pepper, then peelin’ an onion. “Nigga you talkin’ like ya nasty ass ain’t already gettin’ it in. I know betta.”

He laughs. “Yeah, my dick stays wet. But I’m tryna get up in some new pussy.”

“Nigga you ain’t even smooth wit’ ya shit. You straight raw wit’ it. No kinda finesse. Ain’t no classy bitch feelin’ that. Save that shit for them boogas.”

He laughs. “Check this shit out, ma. I’ma grown-ass man. I ain’t got time to be bullshittin’ on da pussy.”

“Well, that shit might work wit’ them bottom of the barrel bitches, but it ain’t workin’ for me.”

He keeps laughin’. “Bottom of da barrel, top of da barrel, it don’t matter. As long as da pussy’s bangin’ ’n I can fuck ’em over da barrel, it’s all gravy.”

I shred my cheese. “Well, I ain’t lookin’ to fuck.” I crack two eggs. Then beat all the ingredients while the pan heats up. Then I pour e’erything in.

“You ain’t sayin’ nuthin’ but a word, ma. I got you. I know how’ta make love when it calls for it.”

“Oh, really? And when does it call for it?”

“When a chick is worthy of bein’ treated respectfully. When she ain’t beat to know how much dick a nigga’s got hangin’ between his legs. Or bein’ preoccupied wit’ the size of a muhfucka’s feet, or what kinda whip he’s pushin’.”

Now I ain’t gonna front, a bitch was wonderin’ how many inches this black muhfucka was holdin’. Shit, I already done seen da nigga’ dick print, so I already know what it is. But I’m damn sure not preoccupied ova it. And a bitch definitely ain’t gonna ask ’bout it. I’ll leave that shit for them thirsty-ass cluckers he got on his team. Bird- ass hoes. I’ll find out what’s really good wit’ da nigga’s dick if and when I decide to rock his top. In da mean time, a bitch’s gonna keep it cute, and stay on mute.

I take the spatula and fold my omelet. My stomach growls louder. When my food is finally done, I slide it onto my plate, then sit down at the table.

“Yo what you eatin’?”

“An omelet.”

“Oh, you cook? That’s wassup.”

“Yeah, I can do a lil’ sumthin’. But that’s not a bitch’s purpose in life.”

“So you sayin’ I can’t get my grub on?”

“Not if you lookn’ for me to cook. My name ain’t Aunt Jemima. And I ain’t ya mama. So, hell no, muhfucka.”

He laughs. “Yeah, aiight. I see you like talkin’ real reckless.”

“And I can back it up, muhfucka, trust.”

“We’ll see. Like I said, you talk a lotta shit.”

“Whaaaat eva. Take it, or leave it.”

“Yeah, aiight, yo. I hear you. Right now, I’m tryna take it.”

“So you be fuckin’ a buncha birds?” I decide to ask, nixin’ his last comment. Not that I really care ’cause I already know what it is. Still the nigga has piqued my curiosity.

“On occasion,” he says. “And them the ones I fuck. And use this big-ass dick as a weapon of destruction to slaughter the hell outta the pussy.”

I roll my eyes up in my head. “Whateva nigga. Ya dick game probably whack as hell.” I tease, gettin’ up to put my plate in the sink. He laughs. I open the ’fridge and grab a bottle of Dasani water, then open it and start guzzlin’ it down. “You probably one’a them quick nut type muhfuckas.”

It’s time for another blunt, I think as I go back upstairs. This time I grab the haze and roll two fatties.

“Yeah, you think that shit if ya want,” he says, laughin’. “But I can show ya better than I can tell ya, ma. I ain’t that dude who be runnin’ his mouth ’bout what he can do to da pussy, then don’t deliver. They don’t call me Daddy Long Stroke for nuthin’. Believe that, ma.”

I suck my teeth, walkin over and sittin’ on the bed. I spark the blunt, crossin’ my legs. “Whaaat eva. You too damn stuck on ya’self.” I take a deep pull.

“Nah, baby…I’m tryna be stuck on you.”

“Muhfucka, what I tell you ’bout callin’ me ya damn baby. Ya ass is fuckin’ hardheaded. I bet you used to get ya ass beat a lot growin’ up.”

“Nah, never that,” he says, laughin’. “I got my ass beat once. That’s it. Other than that, the only thing that was gettin’ beat was this dick.”

“Hmmph,” I grunt, blowin’ out smoke.

“Yo, you blazin’?”

“Yeah, muhfucka, why?”

He laughs. “Daaaaaamn, I’m in love. You mad sexy, mean as fuck, and you burn. And you get my dick hard e’erytime you call me muhfucka. Where you been hidin’ all my life?”

I suck my teeth. “Annnnywayz, why you keep callin’ me?”

“’Cause I dig you.”

“Nigga, you don’t even know me.”

“Yeah ’cause you won’t let a muhfucka in. You keep frontin’ ’n shit. I been tryna holla at you for over a year now—”

“Try almost two,” I correct, cuttin’ him off.

“Well, shit, that makes it even worse. And you still ain’t tryna give a muhfucka no play. Wassup wit’ that?”

I take another pull. “’Cause I’m chillin’. Doin’ me. And I ain’t beat for no drama, or no extra shit from a nigga. And you look like you that nigga wit’ a side dish of both. No, thank you. Been there, done that. And I ain’t tryna catch’a case.”

“Oh, word? Well, I don’t know what kinda case you might catch. But if you’d stop frontin’ I’ll give ya fine ass a case of some good dick.”

This muthafucka! I pull at my nipples. A bitch is mad horny. This nigga gotta sexy ass voice. And he’s nasty as fuck, but I gotta keep remindin’ myself that the muhfucka’s trouble. I know this nigga’s kind. I get up. Stare at my body in the mirror, turnin’ from one side to the other, admirin’ my bangin’ shape. I tighten and un-tighten my ass muscles and watch my ass cheeks pop.

“Nigga, what makes you think you can come at me all sideways ’n shit?”

“Yo, don’t think I forgot that shit you told me in the mall that day. I kept that shit tucked. Now I wanna see you deliver.”

“Well, don’t hold ya breath,” I say, shakin’ my head, rememberin’ exactly what I said to him when I stepped up in his space and whispered in his ear. “…I bet you a sucka for good pussy, and a bitch who can suck down ya dick and lap at ya balls, too…well, guess what, muhfucka? I’m that bitch, be clear. Fine, fly, fabulous and freaky wit’ a pussy ’n throat game so ill it’ll make a nigga sick…” And, the minute I stepped back from him, I peeped the nigga’s dick stretchin’ down his leg. And his nasty ass didn’t even try ’n play it off.

“So why you keep answerin’ when I call?”

I smile, sittin’ at the foot of my bed. I spread open my legs. Lean back on my forearm, then use my free hand to lightly pat my pussy. ’Cause ya sexy, bow-legged ass is thuggish and fine as hell and I might wanna fuck you, I think. Of course I ain’t gonna gas this nigga up. “’Cause you amuse me,” I say, laughin’.

“Yeah, aiight. Go ’head wit’ that dumb shit. I know better. Keep shit real, you wanna taste this chocolate,