The Man Handler

See. This is the only downfall about fucking another woman’s man. You have to expect shit like this to happen from time to time. Some dick whipped bitch, talking out the side of her neck about what she’s going to do to me when she catches me. Sometimes I entertain the calls; other times, I hang up. But, today’s this chick’s lucky day. I feel like playing. What cracks me the hell up is that some of these women really think they done snatched up the door prize. The shit is hilarious to me, and, at times, downright sad.

I shake my head, and say, “Is that a promise or a threat?”

“Both, bitch!” she snarls.

I laugh, which only incites this crazed woman more.

“Bitch, what the fuck is so funny, hunh? Let’s see how funny you think shit is when I got you picking up your damn dick-sucking jaws, you trifling bitch!”

“My, my, my…aren’t we mighty hostile,” I say, taunting her.

“Hostile my ass!” she snaps. “Answer the question, bitch. How long you been fucking my man?”

I sigh, shaking my head. I clear my throat. “Um, ’scuse me, boo, but would you be so kind as to tell me what man has you so stressed out, calling my home making ridiculous threats, and accusing me of fucking him?”

“Don’t fucking worry about all that,” she snaps. “Just stay the fuck away from my man. He’s mine, so go out and find yourself your own, and leave mine the FUCK alone, bitch!”

I laugh again, sitting back on the sofa. “Oh, trust, sweetie, the last thing I’m worried about is a man, especially yours. And maybe you should learn how not to as well.”

“It’s bitches like you,” she huffs, “that make it easy for men to cheat.”

“Wrong answer, sweetie,” I say, crossing my legs. “It’s bitches like you that make it easy for men to cheat by constantly taking their cheating-asses back, denying that shit in your relationships ain’t right, and for always blaming everyone else but the men you dumb ass bitches keep letting fuck you over. So, don’t call me with your bullshit, bitch. I’m not your problem. Your mother-fucking man is.”

“You fucking, slutty-ass ho, who the fuck do you think you talking to?”

In my mind’s eye, I can see this bitch foaming at the mouth like a pit bull. I must have really struck a nerve.

“You, you dizzy bitch,” I snap, getting bored with this little phone game I’m playing with this chick. Although I’m really not mad at her, I’ll be damned if I’m going to let a bitch call me talking shit and I don’t check her ass. I don’t give a fuck if she does think I’m fucking her man. If she wanted to confront me about him, she should have come at me some other way. All this extra shit is uncalled for. And now that I’m thinking about it, I should hang up on her retarded ass. But, I won’t. “You called me with your fucking sob story,” I continue. “So obviously I’m talking to your dumb-ass. Now, what is it you want from me again?”

“I want you to stay away from my man,” she states. It almost sounds like the bitch is begging. “If he calls you, hang up. If he comes by, don’t let him in.”

“Oh, okay. And how is it you know that it’s me he’s fucking?”

“’Cause I know.”

I roll my eyes. “Bitch, you don’t know shit. You think you know; that’s what the fuck it is. So, let me tell you what I think. I think he has a slew of numbers in his phone and has probably cheated on you more times than you can keep count, and you keep taking his ass back. And now, once again, you think he’s creeping on your ass. I bet your miserable ass went through his phone, checking his messages and calling up and confronting chicks, to catch him out. But, I wasn’t one of the bitches who left him a message. You just happened to stumble upon my number in his address book, so your jealous ass thought you would reach out and touch. Bitch, please!”

Silence.

I continue, “So, let me ask. How many chicks confirmed they were fucking him?”

“Bitch, what the fuck you all worried about that for? How many times you fuck him?”

“Sweetie, you’re delusional if you think I’m worried about who your so-called man sticks his dick in. The fact of the matter is you’re the one stressing about it. You’re the one calling up chicks, practically begging—”

“I ain’t begging no bitch about shit,” she snaps, cutting me off. “I’m warning them, including you.”

I give her an exaggerated laugh. “Whew, you one funny chick,” I say. “But, girlfriend, don’t get it twisted. You’re not warning me about shit. You can ask me, and if I choose to respect your relationship, then I will. But, make no mistake. You’re definitely not going to make me do nothing with threats. ’Cause at the end of the day, you stupid bitch, I’m gonna fuck who the hell I want, including your man—if I so choose to. I don’t love him, and I damn sure don’t admire him. I’m fucking him. I don’t want him, sweetie. You do. So, you can make all the threats you want. He’s your headache, not mine. And that’s exactly how I like to keep it.”

Silence again.

For a moment, I think I hear sniffling, but I can’t be sure with the noise in the background. Why the fuck am I even entertaining this nutty-bitch? I think, shaking my head. Who’s crazier? Her for being so damn stupid, or me for sitting here, listening to her dumb ass? And I still don’t know who the fuck she’s accusing me of fucking!

“So, who is it again, you think I’m fucking?” I decide to ask, becoming increasingly disgusted with this shit.

“Seth, bitch,” she finally says. “Don’t play stupid. You knew who the fuck I was calling about.”

Seth, I think, sifting through my mental Rolodex. In my head I scream, “Bitch do you know how many men I have fucked and sucked, and you expect me to remember a motherfucking Seth?!”

It takes me a minute to remember who the hell she’s talking about. But then it comes to me. Six-feet, three inches, one-hundred-and ninety-eight pounds of thick, seven-inch, dark-chocolate dick, complete with big, smooth balls filled with thick, white cream. Yes, Seth. I met him almost two years ago. Fucked him four times, then sent him on his merry way. What the fuck is he still doing with my number in his phone? Dumb ass!

“Are you fucking serious?” I snap. “You mean to tell me, you’re calling my motherfucking house about some dick I fucked over a year ago. You stupid bitch! You could have saved yourself the dime.”

“Who the fuck you calling stupid, ho?”

“You,” I say, “calling me with this bullshit. If you were calling me about some current dick, then your ass might have had a legitimate reason to be calling here. But to be calling me about some shit that’s old news. Bitch, get a life!”

I hang up.

The bitch calls back. And I only pick up to fuck with her one last time.

“Yes, dumb ass,” I say.

“You know what?!” she yells at the top of her lungs. “I don’t give a fuck if it is old news. The fact that you fucked him is still news to me. And trust me. I’m going to beat the shit out of your cum-sucking ass if I ever catch you!”

I let her scream on and on and on about what she’s going to do to me. “You don’t know who the fuck I am… I’m gonna smash your windows out…I’ma slash your motherfucking tires…” Blah, blah, blah. The true signs of a dick-crazy bitch.

Humph. I really feel sorry for pathetic women like her. Constantly fighting over some man. Poor thing! I wonder how many other women she’s had to call and threaten, and beg for them to leave her precious man alone; the one who she lives and breathes and shits for. For some reason, that female group MoKenStef’s “He’s Mine” starts playing in my head. I start humming. He’s mine…you may of had him once, but I got him all the time…

“Bitch,” she continues, “do you hear me talking to you? What the fuck you humming for?”

“I’m humming ’cause he may be yours, but I’ve had him, and more than once. And I bet when he’s with your nutty ass, he’s somewhere still thinking about me, which is probably why he kept my number in his phone. While he’s fucking you, I’ll bet it’s me he still craves, remembering how this tight, wet pussy wrapped around his dick, how he loved eating out my sweet ass, and smearing my pussy juice all over his cheating-ass face before coming home to your dizzy ass. But, make no mistake. I’m not the other woman, and I’m damn sure not trying to fuck him