it’s all yours.” And with that said, the nigga spun on his Ferragamos, leavin’ Chanel and me gaggin’ as he walked over to his chick and planted a kiss on her lips. She wrapped her arms around him, lettin’ e’eryone know he was hers. I wasn’t mad at her ’cause I woulda probably did the same damn thing to let them bitches know what time it was. Too bad she thought she was the only one.
“That bitch can’t handle a nigga like him,” Chanel said as we sipped our drinks. The shit was so fuckin’ smooth goin’ down. My nipples got real hard as the heat went through my body. “And I know that gold-plated bitch ain’t wettin’ his dick right. A nigga like that needs a bitch with that platinum pussy in his life.” She lifted her drink up in Coal’s and his chick’s direction, smiled, then took another sip. “Enjoy him while you can, honey, ’cause I’ma be fuckin’ ya man and runnin’ his pockets before the end of summer.”
I rolled my eyes, laughin’. Crazy thing, I knew the bitch was serious. “I need another damn blunt,” I said, gettin’ up to go to the bathroom.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I didn’t stumble back up in the house until almost seven a.m. We shut the damn 40/40 down, then hung outside blazin’ and talkin’ shit to niggas who were tryna get at us. And a bitch was lit the hell up. Do you hear me? I’m talkin’ extra fucked up. At first we kept it cute, sippin’ from our glasses ’n shit, but after the fourth round, we tossed our glasses and started neckin’ that Reemy straight to the head. Niggas were buggin’ when they came by to congratulate us on our game and saw that we had dried the bottle out. Muhfuckas couldn’t believe how long and deep our necks were.
Ugh! Between all the trees and the liquor a bitch was spent. I don’t even remember drivin’, or how the hell I got the fuck home. All I know is, when I woke up I was layin’ in a pool of vomit and e’erything ’round me was spinnin’. Fast. My stomach felt heavy and rumbled up in knots. I sat up in bed, glanced at the digital clock. It was 12:15. I still had on my Chanel blouse, and still had one leg in my jeans with one shoe on. Oh my God, I was gonna throw up. I jumped outta bed and bolted toward the bathroom, barely makin’ it to the toilet. I fell down on my knees and tossed my guts up all over the rim of the toilet, then started huggin’ the bowl. I was sweatin’ like a horse and heavin’, and as I was throwin’ up, somethin’ warm started runnin’ down the back of my legs and onto the floor. Ugh! A bitch had shitted on herself. I was too fuckin’ through!
I don’t know why the fuck I got all liquored up like that, but I was payin’ for it out the ass and I was a hot shitty mess—literally and figuratively. I wrapped a few sheets of toilet paper around my hand and attempted to wipe my ass, but started throwin’ up again. I was wiped the fuck out, and didn’t even have the strength to finish wipin’ my ass. I left the tissue up in the crack of my ass and tried to crawl back to my bed. But I never made it. I fell out facedown on my white-marbled floor.
I don’t know how many times I heard the dull chirpin’ in my ears, but when I finally lifted my head up from the bathroom floor, it took me a minute to come to my senses and realize that the noise was comin’ from outta my bag that was right in the middle of the bathroom. I had no fuckin’ idea how it got there. The noise stopped, then started up again. Somebody was really tryna get at me. I stretched my arm out and grabbed my bag, draggin’ it across the floor, then diggin’ through it.
I looked at the screen, slowly pullin’ myself up off the floor. “Hello,” I said, rubbin’ my head. I stood up and stared at myself in the mirror. My hair was matted, and streaks of crusty vomit were ’round the sides of my mouth. I pulled off my wrinkled shirt and threw it in the corner, pulled the dried-up toilet tissue from outta my ass, tossin’ it in the toilet, then flushin’. I felt like throwin’ up again when I noticed dried-up shit on my floor.
“Damn, baby, you left a nigga hangin’ with his dick in his hand last night. Word up.”
I groaned, reachin’ under the sink cabinet and pullin’ out the liquid Lysol and a sponge to wipe up my mess. “I wasn’t on it like that. I ended up goin’ to the 40/40 club with Chanel.”
“I musta hit your sexy ass up mad times; you straight-dipped on a nigga.”
“My phone was in my bag,” I said, throwin’ the sponge in the trash, then puttin’ the bottle of disinfectant back. “I didn’t even hear it ringin’.”
“Oh, word? Well, while you were shakin’ ya ass all up in them niggas’ faces, I had to take it down with a stiff dick.”
“Aww,” I said as I washed my hands, then ran water into the bathtub. I poured in some Pooka Pure & Simple lavender bath crystals. “Poor baby. I apologize. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”
“Yeah, you can let me come through and get up in that good pussy again.”
“Well, I guess we can arrange for that to happen.” Although I said it, I really wasn’t beat for a nigga to be crawlin’ all up over me, groanin’ up in my ear, or breathin’ up in my damn face. Not today, and definitely not the way I was feelin’. “What you gonna be doin’ tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow? Nah, baby, you got it fucked up. I’m comin’ through now.”
“Now?!” I said shocked. “You jokin’, right?”
“Hell, nah, I ain’t jokin’. I wanna see you today, right this minute.”
“Unh-uh. You can’t come through now.”
“What you mean, I can’t come through now?” he asked, soundin’ like he had an attitude. “You got some other nigga up in there?”
Now, had a bitch been in her right frame of mind, I woulda slayed him a new asshole for tryna question me like I was his girl ’n shit. ’Cause on some real shit, that questionin’ mess and havin’ a nigga check for me did not work with me. I guess that’s why a bitch was single. But since I was all off centered ’n shit, I let it go and actually answered him.
“Not hardly. I’m hung the fuck over, that’s all. And I’m just wakin’ up.”
“Okay, and?”
“I look a hot, sloppy mess.”
He laughed. “And even in all of ya hot sloppiness, I bet ya still fine as fuck.”
“Yeah, okay,” I said, laughin’. “But, I still wanna chill and lay down. That’s it.”
“That works for me,” he said. “You can lay in my arms and we can chill together. I had you on the brain all muhfuckin’ night, word up. You had a nigga on brick. I’m comin’ through. So go do what you gotta do, and I’ma see you in ’bout a half-hour or so.”
“I’m not openin’ the door,” I said, slidin’ down into the water. It felt so damn good. I moaned.
“Say what? Aye, yo, don’t play with me.”
I was too weak to argue with his ass. “I’m not playin’. I’m dead-ass.”
“So what you sayin’? You ain’t beat to lay up in a nigga’s arms? You gonna deprive me from seein’ ya fine ass ’cause you went out and got twisted last night? Yo, that’s real cold, baby.” He lowered his voice. “Come on, baby, I got just what the doctor ordered to make ya feel better.”
“Oh, yeah…and what’s that?”
He laughed. “I’ll show you when I get there.” He hung up before I could speak. Instead of callin’ his ass back, I flipped the phone shut and placed it on the tub ledge, then laid my head back, slid my hand between my legs, and closed my eyes, smilin’.
“Mmmm…uh…uh…mmm,” I moaned as Grant rammed his dick in me for the third time since he had gotten to my spot over two hours ago. The nigga musta been on Viagra or some shit ’cause he just kept goin’ and goin’ and bustin’ off back to back, changin’ the condom, then slidin’ his dick back up in me. I swear I had no intentions of givin’ this fine muhfucka some pussy when he walked up in here lookin’ and smellin’ all fuckin’ good with his fresh cut, fly-ass Gucci runnin’ suit, and crispy Air Force Ones. But when the nigga stripped down to his silk boxers and all that dick started swingin’ and bouncin’ around, a bitch forgot to say no when he started kissin’ and rubbin’ and lickin’ all over me. And the minute he wrapped his soft lips around my titties that was it. Shit started feelin’ good and the next thing I know his dick started callin’ me loud ’n muthafuckin’ crystal clear: “Kat…Kat…Kat…suck me, bitch…drop down on ya knees and wet this big-ass dick.” And that’s just what I did.
