his dick while he talked. I swear I thought I seen a big-ass lump danglin’ up in them designer sweats. For a split second, I wondered what the nigga’s dick game was really like since I had heard the muhfucka could fuck like a stallion. Oh, my God, the heat and the blunt I had smoked on the way up had a bitch buggin’ for real. I shook away the thought.
“What’s wrong?” Chanel asked, lookin’ ’round to see what I was lookin’ at.
“Nothin’,” I said, glancin’ at my watch. “What time is this shit over?”
“Why?” she asked, rollin’ her eyes. “You got a date with some dick or somethin’?”
I sucked my teeth. “No,” I shot back, “you my date, you sexy-ass ho.”
She chuckled. “So, then answer me this, smart-ass: why is two fly bitches sittin’ down instead of tryna see what’s good?”
“Because we ain’t thirsty like the rest of these hoes out here.”
“Says who?”
“Says me, bitch.”
“Humph,” she grunted, standin’ up. “Speak for ya’self. A bitch lookin’ for some new dick for the summer.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, go on and get ya ho-stroll on, then. I’m keepin’ my ass right here. I ain’t beat.”
“Then I’ll get at ya in a few. I wanna see what’s really poppin’ out here.”
“Whateva,” I said, tryna keep my eye on the niggas runnin’ up and down the court. On some real shit, I couldn’t tell you shit ’bout who was doin’ what ’cause a bitch was really only cock watchin’, tryna see whose dick was doin’ the most bouncin’ ’round in they shorts.
A nigga tryna get at Chanel disrupted my peep show. “Yo, ma,” he yelled from a few seats away, “what’s good wit’ ya fine self? Let me holla at ya.”
I looked over my shades to see what his grill looked like. He was a light-skinned cutie—a bit too bright for me, though—with short, wavy light-brown hair. His wears were aiight, but nothin’ to get a bitch’s pussy moist over.
“Ugh, not,” Chanel said, puttin’ the palm of her hand out to stop him. “I’m checkin’ for heavyweights, so go run along, little one.”
A few peeps laughed, but that didn’t stop the nigga from tryna come back at her. “Yeah, okay. This little boy got ya heavyweight, aiight. I’ll split that ass right down the middle.”
“Nigga, puhleeze. I wouldn’t even let ya busted, crab ass lick the shit outta my ass.” She flicked her fingas at him. “So, poof…be gone!”
Before dude could open his mouth to say somethin’ else, she turned to me and said, “See ya. I’m out. Hit me on the cell when you ready to meet up.”
“Whateva, bitch,” I said. “But when ya ass ends up with nothin’, fuckin’ with these niggas, don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” She threw her hand up, wavin’ me off, switchin’ and bouncin’ her way off into the crowd. I looked around and peeped a few niggas with they eyes locked on her big ass.
My cell phone rang. I glanced at the number, then flipped it open. I stuck my finga in my right ear, tryna block out some of the noise. “Hello?”
“I got my eye on you, baby.”
“Say, what?” I asked, lookin’ around. “Where are you?”
“What you lookin’ around for?”
“Oh, what, you spyin’ on me, now?” I said, laughin’.
“Yeah, I got eyes everywhere; thought you knew.”
“Nah, I didn’t. So, did these little eyes of yours see me suckin’ ya dick and ridin’ ya ass down into the mattress last week?”
He laughed. “Nah, but right now they see a bunch of niggas sittin’ around a real dime-piece tryna get what’s mine.”
I rolled my eyes, suckin’ my teeth. “Oh, please. I ain’t thinkin’ ’bout these niggas.”
“Yeah, aiight. What you thinkin’ ’bout then?”
“How ’bout I’ll tell ya when I see ya?”
“Yeah, you can do that,” he said. Some nigga sittin’ next to me tapped me on the shoulder to ask me somethin’. I looked at his ass, then igged him, rollin’ my eyes.
“Aye, yo, don’t have me hurt nobody out here.”
“Grant,” I said, laughin’, “where the hell you at, nigga?”
“Look in back of you.” I craned my neck all the way around, and there his fine ass was, sittin’ five rows in back of me with a bunch of niggas dipped in jewels. I didn’t remember seein’ his ass sittin’ there. Then again, I wasn’t lookin’ for him. He smiled at me, gettin’ up from his seat and makin’ his way down to me. I was glad I had my shit in the space where Chanel had been sittin’. He sat down beside me. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, kissin’ me on the neck.
I smiled. “Oh, you tryna mark your territory, huh?”
“And you know it,” he stated, wrappin’ his arm ’round me. He kissed me again. “You look good as hell. I peeped your sexy ass when you first came in. Niggas was breakin’ they muhfuckin’ necks tryna see who you and ya peeps were. They were like, ‘Oh, shit, check out shortie in them jean shorts. That sexy bitch is bangin’, word is bond, son…’”
I laughed. “You so damn silly.”
“Real talk, baby. I had to check a few of them cats. But I was diggin’ it on the low, though. I was like, ‘Damn, my baby is fiiiyah.’”
I laughed. “Oh, so I’m ya baby now?”
“Don’t play. You know what it is.”
“Humph,” I stated, twistin’ my lips. “As long as you know I ain’t playin’ the second or third spot to no other bitch, then it’s all good.”
“No doubt,” he said, leanin’ in and tryna kiss me on the lips.
I turned my head, playfully mushin’ him.
“Oh no, nigga, I don’t think so. Until ya ass is my man, I’m still on the market.”
He laughed. “Baby, I’m shuttin’ shit down. So, fuck all that shit you talkin’ ’cause your fine ass is with me.”
Needless to say, we half-watched the game, and talked. This nigga kept his hands on me the whole time, lettin’ the rest of them muhfuckas know who had the real door prize. I really didn’t mind, though. It was nice to have a strong arm wrapped ’round me. He wasn’t my man, and he may never be, but in the meantime he definitely was gonna be some steady dick.
“So, you ready for me to tell you what I was thinkin’ ’bout?” I asked, grinnin’.
“No doubt, baby, no doubt.”
I leaned in and whispered in his ear, “I was thinkin’ ’bout how good that big, juicy dick of yours felt in this tight pussy”—I slipped my hand on the inside of his thigh and lightly rubbed it—“and I’m thinkin’ ’bout how I wanna nut on ya tongue tonight.”
He smiled, fannin’ his legs. The nigga’s dick was brick. I squeezed it on the low, and smiled back at him. “See what you do to me?” he said.
“And I’m gonna do even more when I get up on this long dick,” I whispered, flickin’ my tongue in his ear.
“That’s wassup, baby…no doubt.” And for rest of the game, I kept my hand on his dick and watched the Sean Bell team house muhfuckas on the court.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Aiight, baby, I’ma hit you up later tonight,” Grant said, givin’ me a big bear hug and kissin’ me on the cheek. I had to laugh to myself at the nigga tryna shine in front of his niggas like he had already bagged a bitch. But I let ’im live ’cause it was kinda, hmm…cute. And the nigga was too fuckin’ fine to let any of the
