“I’m sorry, but you can’t come up,” I said, turnin’ to leave. “And I’m not ridin’ nowhere with you. Good night.”
As I turned to walk away, he grabbed me by the arm, pullin’ me toward him. “Hold up, ma. Let me give you something to think about tonight.” He backed me up against the wall of my buildin’, then pressed his body into mine, kissin’ me and pressin’ his already hard dick into me. Yeah, the nigga was aggressive, not some soft, weak cat scared to take what he wanted—just how I liked it. His free hand snaked its way inside my robe, rubbin’ the inside of my thighs until he found my wet pussy covered by red silk panties. His index finga pressed on my clit and he rubbed it fiercely until I moaned. I reached for his dick and almost fainted when I felt how long and thick it was. I let out another soft moan, then came to my senses and pushed him away before he got a chance to stick his fingas inside of me. “I ain’t that kinda bitch,” I finally said, breakin’ outta his grip. “You want this pussy, then you gonna have to earn it.” He leaned in to kiss me again, but this time I turned my head. “Good night.”
“Yeah, I’ma wife you,” he said, lettin’ me go, then backin’ away. “You mine. Believe that. I’ll be back tomorrow and I ain’t takin’ no for an answer.”
“Whatever,” I replied, headin’ toward the door. Every day for a week straight, he came through ringin’ my doorbell, and each time I refused him. Then he started sendin’ me two dozen yellow roses for a week. When that didn’t work, he started sendin’ teddy bears rockin’ diamond necklaces around their necks, tennis bracelets, or diamond earrings, until I finally gave in.
For almost a year we were goin’ strong. The nigga started lacin’ me with bangin’ furs and jewels, takin’ me on expensive trips, and kept the cash flowin’—no matter the amount, no matter for what, I got it. I was the Bonnie to his Clyde. Wherever he went, I went. Everyone knew I was his; and whatever bitches he had suckin’ his dick, they knew to play their positions and not bring drama to me. I fucked him any-and-every which way he wanted, nonstop. He moved me outta Crown Heights into a cute co-op off Eastern Parkway across from the Brooklyn Musuem. A bitch was catchin’ feelins for the nigga hard, and was really thinkin’ he was the one.
But I quickly learned that shit ain’t always what it seems. That everything that glitters ain’t always gold. That lovin’ a nigga sometimes comes with a price. A bitch was slapped into reality when I decided to come back early from a two-week trip to Hawaii, the one he paid for as a gift for my twentieth birthday, but couldn’t go because he swore he couldn’t get away. He also laced me with two-carat diamond studs, a diamond necklace, and ten thousand dollars. He even paid for Chanel to go in his place. So instead of stayin’ the full time, I flew home four days early to surprise him ’cause a bitch was missin’ her man and wanted to be fucked into a coma for her birthday instead of layin’ on a beautiful beach with another bitch. But the surprise was on me.
I walked up on him fuckin’ Patrice doggie-style in the same bed he had been fuckin’ me in many times before. She was moanin’ and groanin’ and beggin’ him, callin’ him big daddy this, and big daddy that. I stood in the doorway and watched him slap her on the ass, and tell her how good and wet and fat her pussy was. I listened to her tell him how much she wanted him, how much she loved his big dick. Listened to her ask him to leave “that bitch”; heard him tell her he would never leave me, that I was always gonna be his wifey, but she could always get the dick on the low. I stood stone still and watched my own blood fuck my man, and the nigga I practically gave my heart to play me like a fuckin’ fool. A bitch was boilin’ mad. I wanted to kill ’em both, but I kept it cute. Just as he was ’bout to cum, I took a deep breath, then walked in.
“So, this is what a nigga who says he loves a bitch does when she’s gone—he fucks my muthafuckin’ aunt.”
He looked up. “Oh, shit,” he gasped, pullin’ his dick outta Patrice. Shock was all over their faces as they both tried to scramble off the bed. His dick was slick from her pussy. Her hair was tossed every which way. I was too through. Not only was he fuckin’ her, but the nigga was fuckin’ her
I walked closer to the bed. “Oh, nigga, don’t stop. Keep on ridin’ that ass. The bitch got some good pussy, huh? Is the shit better than mine, muhfucka?”
“Wait a minute, Baby Girl, let me explain. It’s not what you think.”
I put my hand up. “‘Baby Girl’ my ass, nigga…it’s exactly what I think. So save it. You can’t explain shit to me.” Patrice looked at me wide-eyed and sweaty as she tried to hurry up and cover her naked body. “Bitch, I done already seen ya titties floppin’ up and down and ya ass spread open like the Harlem River, so there ain’t no need to rush on my account, ho.” I stared her down. “Yeah, bitch, you finally got what you wanted. I hope the nigga’s dick was worth it. How’d you like that big dick up in ya guts, bitch?” She igged me; just kept puttin’ her clothes on. “You hear me, bitch, how long you been fuckin’ my muthafuckin’ man?”
“Six months,” she replied. B-Love’s mouth dropped open.
“Yo, she’s buggin’. We ain’t—”
“Shut ya lyin’ ass up, nigga! This is between me and this bitch here.”
“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ ya man, and what?!” she yelled on some real tough-girl shit. “You knew I was diggin’ him, and instead of steppin’ off you, jumped up on his dick, so it’s fair exchange. Now you—”
And before the bitch could finish tryna talk greasy, I charged at her, clawin’ at her and punchin’ up her face. This was no longer ’bout him; I already knew I was gonna handle him later. At that moment, it was ’bout that bitch disrespectin’ me; it was ’bout her crossin’ the line; and it was ’bout me fuckin’ her up to let her know she had crossed the wrong one.
“You triflin’ dirty bitch!” I screamed as I knocked her down, then jumped on her and continued beatin’ her face in. “I’ma fuckin’ kill you, bitch.” She tried to scratch at my face to get me off her, but I was hittin’ her so hard and so fast that she couldn’t get her nails in. “You wanna fuck my man, ho. Fuckin’ trick! You want him, bitch, you can have him!”
B-Love tried to pull me off of her. But I was a wild woman, swingin’ and punchin’ and screamin’ with all my might. “Kat, stop it! Get off her. Come on, baby.” He finally got his arms up under mine and yanked me off of her. My legs were swingin’ wildly, kickin’ her in her head, face, and chest.
“You’se a dead bitch!” Patrice yelled as she scrambled to her feet and tried to come at me. Blood was pourin’ outta her mouth and nose. Her neck and chest became a battleground filled with bruises and long, deep scratches, exposin’ white meat. “I’ma fuck you up for jumpin’ on me, bitch.” I raised both of my legs up and kicked her in her chest, sendin’ her flyin’ backward. She stumbled into the wall.
“Yo, bitch,” B-Love yelled at Patrice while tryna restrain me, “get ya shit and get the fuck out! Let me handle this.”
“Get the fuck off me!” I screamed, tryna kick, bite, and break outta his grip. “Get your muthafuckin’ grimy-ass hands off me, nigga! You fucked my aunt, you fuckin’ snake-ass bastard. And you tryna save her from gettin’ her ass beat. Fuck you, nigga!”
Patrice grabbed the rest of her shit and ran out the door. “This ain’t over, bitch!” I screamed at her. “Trust me. I’ma see you, you dirty ho. And e’erytime I do—be ready to rock,
B-Love tried to calm me down, but I wasn’t hearin’ shit he had to say. He held me tight, refusin’ to let me go while I screamed, cried, and called him every name in the fuckin’ book. He kept apologizin’ over and over, kept beggin’ me to forgive him. The damage was done. Slob and spit and snot was e’erywhere. I cried all fuckin’ night. And the nigga thought all my tears were over him. Little did he know, he had awakened a beast that I thought I had buried, a beast that craved blood, a beast that longed for revenge, a beast that would not rest until it was served; and I sobbed all night tryna fight it back. But it was too late. This thing inside of me was alive and hungry and needed to be fed. And I was the bitch to feed it! Fuck love, fuck forgiveness—my mind was made up. The only thing that would soothe its hunger was death.
“…I don’t know why the fuck her dumb ass gotta fuck with someone else’s man. That shit is just fuckin’ crazy to me,” Chanel continued, bringin’ me back to the coversation. “Then she got the nerve to have me out ’n about with her ass last night at Mars 2112 and not say shit to me about havin’ beef with these bitches until after shit popped off outside. Four o’clock in the goddamn morning, and these bitches tryna set it off right there in the middle of Times Square. I’m so over that ho right now. What the fuck I look like, tryna fight them big booga bear bitches in my wears. Had the bitch told me shit was hectic I woulda rocked a pair of jeans and some constructs instead of bein’ out in my two-thousand-dollar Chanel dress and diamond-crusted heels, feel me?”
I sighed, rollin’ my eyes. I
“Humph. Better you than me. I ain’t fuckin’ with Tamia like that anymore. The bitch is too damn reckless, and I ain’t diggin’ it. So, since she wanna be fuckin’ these niggas, knowin’ they got girls ’n shit, then she gets what she
