“Because I’m hoping one day I walk through the door and you’ll be standing here in the middle of the living room butt naked, holding your hard dick in your hand waiting for me.”
I grinned, unzippin’ my jeans and slippin’ my hand down in my underwear. “Is that so?”—I pull out my dick and stroke it—“Well, how ’bout we get started now.” Needless to say, she dropped down low and let it do what it do, milkin’ my dick wit’ her mouth, then finally gulpin’ down a rich, creamy nut.
Anyway, I’m up in my room loungin’ in a pair of black boxer briefs and a black wife beater, gettin’ ready to watch
“Oh, shit!” I snap, peepin’ the caller ID, “I ain’t heard from this cat in a minute.” It’s my boy, Red. Yo, this nigga right here’s been my muthafuckin’ dude since eighth grade, word up. Dude is one of the coolest cats I know. And the nigga bags almost as much pussy as me. That’s ’cause he’s one of them light, pretty-boy muhfuckas wit’ all that wavy hair them bitches be fallin’ over. And the nigga be pimpin’ the shit outta ’em. He got bitches takin’ numbers, and standin’ in line, to get at his dick. Well, he used to. I’m not sure how the nigga’s movin’ now that he’s all hugged up wit’ his shorty.
Growin’ up we’d blaze trees, and I’d watch him get bent offa forties ’n shit while we puffed L’s. We’d call up a few hot-in-the-ass hoes and sneak ’em down into his basement, then fuck ’em all night. He’d be diggin’ one bitch’s back out on the plaid sofa, and I’d be on the other side of the room dickin’ down the other on the twin mattress he’d pull out and put down on the floor. Then we’d switch hoes and start rockin’ ’em all over again. Or we’d bang the same bitch after she sucked both our dicks. And the wild shit is, we’d go up in them hoes straight raw. Man, listen… we was like fourteen and was some wild, reckless, horny-ass muhfuckas back then. But, after we both got burned and crabbed out by this dirty bitch, LaTonya, we started strappin’ up. And bein’ more selective. That ho had the whole block on fire. Good pussy or not, that syphilis and crab scare was all we needed to fuck more responsibly, feel me? Fuck what ya heard. A drippin’, itchy-ass dick ain’t a good look!
“Yo, what’s good wit’ ya punk ass?”
“This dick in ya mom’s throat, nigga,” he says, laughin’. “What’s poppin’ wit’ you?”
“My nut in ya aunt’s eye, muhfucka,” I joke back.
“Yo,” he says, laughin’. “You stupid-as-hell nigga, word up. So, what’s good? How you?”
“Chillin’, chillin’. You know how I do. What’s good wit’ you? You still kickin’ it wit’ that honey down in Maryland?”
“Yeah, man. We still doin’ the damn thang. Ole girl done got a nigga hangin’ up his pimp shoes ’n shit.”
“Get the fuck outta here. She got you on lock like that?”
“Word is bond. I tossed out my booty-call book and the bat phone for this one.”
I almost drop my cell. I can’t believe what the fuck I’m hearin’. Like me, this nigga has never been a one pussy-type of nigga. “Get the fuck outta here! Say word.”
“On e’erything I love,” he tells me.
“Awwww, damn,” I say, pausin’. I’m still tryna absorb what he’s said. “Nigga, you serious?”
“You heard me. I had my other phone line disconnected, shut down my BlackPlanet and Myspace pages, and closed all my porn site accounts.”
“Damn, dude. Sounds like she put that cock clamper down on ya.”
He laughs. “Yeah, I can’t front. My baby shut shit down, son. Gotta nigga thinkin’ ’bout the future ’n shit, something I never did before. Real talk, it’s a wrap, son. A nigga’s done fuckin’ wit’ all that pussy chasin’.”
“Yo, son, you talkin’ ’bout givin’ up a smorgasbord of hot pussy at ya disposal. You sure you wanna walk away from it?”
“Yo, most def. On some real shit, man. I’d be thrashin’ that ass and bustin’ shit down and after I finished nuttin’, I’d still want something more.”
I laugh. “Like what, nigga, more pussy?”
“Nah, my dude,” he says, pausin’. “Well, at first, yeah. I thought that’s what it was. But, once a muhfucka took a hard look at himself and got honest, I realized it wasn’t the pussy I wanted more of. It was more of someone; maybe not that particular someone. But definitely someone I could vibe with, and one day build with, feel me?”
Keepin’ shit real, I couldn’t relate to shit he was sayin’. Not that I didn’t want to, I just wasn’t able to. Wantin’ sumthin’ other than pussy, head and a ho’s paper wasn’t ever anything I gave thought to. Nor has it ever been sumthin’ that consumed me. Fuckin’ a broad, yeah; buildin’ wit’ her ass, nope!
I say, “I hear you. But, yo, man…I’m shocked as hell hearin’ this shit come from outta ya mouth, for real, yo.”
He chuckles. “Man, listen…I’m shocked my damn self. On some real shit, I never thought I’d ever feel this way ’bout a chick. But, Coletta’s different. She holds a nigga down. She’s loyal, and the best part is, I
The way he talks, he sounds happy as hell. And on some real shit, I find myself smilin’—happy for my nigga, too. “That’s wassup,” I tell him. “I’m happy for you, man.”
“’Preciate that, playa. Don’t worry, your turns comin’, dawg.”
“Not if I can help it,” I tell ’im. “I like my freedom too much.”
“Yeah, aiight, muhfucka. Talk that shit now. You just haven’t run up on the right one, yet.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever, nigga. So what’s next?” I ask, changin’ the subject.
“Actually, that’s the reason I was callin’ you. I’ma ask my girl to marry me on Christmas Eve. And I want you as my best man when we tie the knot.”
My mouth drops open. “Say word, nigga!”
“Word on e’erything I love.”
“Damm,” I say. “You go ghost ’n shit for months, then pop up outta nowhere full of surprises.”
He laughs. ”Whatever, muhfucka. You wit’ me on this or what?”
“No doubt, dawg. I got you.”
“That’s what it is. I knew I could count on you.”
“No doubt. You know how we do.”
“Mos def. Listen, I gotta dip. I’ma hit you up in a couple of weeks.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I say jokin’ly. “Muhfucka, the last time you said that shit, I ain’t hear from ya pussy- whipped ass for almost six months.”
“Don’t be jealous, baby,” he says, laughin’. “You know you still my number one nigga. But I rather be pussy whipped than havta be stuck fuckin’ with ya ugly, black ass.”
“Fuck outta here wit’ that bullshit,” I say, crackin’ up. “Let me borrow ya grandmother for a few days, then let’s see how ugly and black she thinks this dick is.”
“Yeah, muhfucka, right after you let me borrow yours.” We laugh and bullshit a few more minutes, then hang up. I lay back ’cross my bed, dazin’ up at the ceilin’ wonderin’ how the hell Red’s girl got him to give up all his hoes. I mean, she’s bad as hell… but, damn. She got that nigga talkin’ ’bout marriage ’n shit.
17 
Yo, I’m watchin’ this flick
