L.A.’s hip-hop and R&B station and maneuver my way through this fucked-up traffic.
28 
“I wanna talk to you about something that’s been on my mind,” Cherry says, lookin’ up at me. She moves a wet strand of weave from her face. We finished fuckin’ less than five minutes ago, and we’re both sweaty and still pantin’ like wild beasts. And this ho wants to flap her jaws. Why the fuck chicks wanna talk right after they finish gettin’ their backs gutted is beyond me. What the fuck?! I’m in no mood for talkin’. I wanna lie here and rest in
I glance at the clock. It’s ten-thirty in the mornin’. My flight leaves for Jersey tonight at nine-fifty. And between you and me, a muhfucka can’t wait to get the fuck home. As nice as it is to get away, there’s nuthin’ like chillin’ up in ya own spot, in ya own damn bed, feel me?
“What’s up?” I ask, proppin’ up on my forearms.
“Well, you know…I really enjoy spending time with you when you come out here. And I think this thing we have works really well for the both of us. There’s no pressure from either of us. I’m not looking for a relationship, or expecting anything more from you than what I already get…”
“No doubt. So wassup?”
“Well,” she says, pausin’. “I want a baby.”—she puts a finger over my lips to stop me from speakin’—“Now before you say anything, hear me out first. I’m thirty-five and very successful with no prospects of having a husband anytime soon. But I want to be a mother with no strings, or stress, or baby daddy drama. I am more than capable of raising a child on my own, so I’m not looking for someone to help me raise it.”
I tilt my head, tryna figure out where she’s goin’ wit’ this. “Ohhhkay, and what does that haveta do wit’ me?”
“Well, I’ve been seriously thinking about getting pregnant.”
“Ohhhkay, again, what does that haveta do wit’ me?”
“I want a baby with
My eyes almost pop outta my head. “Say whaaat?” I ask, almost knockin’ her over as I sit up in bed. She repeats herself. “Oh, I heard you the first time. It just caught a muhfucka off guard. I mean, damn…you want me to paint ya insides up wit’ my nuts. That’s a big-ass request. I don’t know if it’s one one I can help you fill.”
She sits up in bed. “I’m only asking you to be my sperm donor. Not marry me, or claim the child as yours. I know you and I trust you, opposed to going to a sperm bank or some online site and not really knowing who or what I’m getting. With you, I know I’m getting a sexy black man with above-average intelligence and excellent bone structure.” I frown at her on that “above average” intelligence shit. Although I know it’s not meant as a dis, for some reason, I don’t like how the fuck it sounded, like I’m a step or two up from bein’ retarded. I decide to let it go. “And aside from your weed smoking, I know that you take relatively good care of yourself. You can be in its life or not; the choice would be entirely up to you. Either way, I wouldn’t ask you for any monetary support.”
I scratch the side of my head. “Ummm, why not adopt?”
“I thought about that. But I want to experience the joys of motherhood being pregnant, carrying my own child.”
“I don’t know. I mean, that’s a big request to hit a nigga wit’, feel me?”
“I know. But before you flat out say no, just give it some thought,
“Umm, there’s nuthin’ really to think ’bout. A muhfucka like me ain’t—”
“I’m willing to pay you fifty thousand dollars,” she bursts out, cuttin’ me off. Now that gets my attention. My dick starts to twitch.
“Yo, let me get this right. You’re willin’ to pay me fifty gees to knock you up?”
She nods. “Yes, half up front, then the other half once I’m pregnant.”
My dick thickens.
Damn, and all I gotta do is plant this nut up in her. Now you all know I ain’t the most moral muhfucka and I know I can be a bit—aiight, aiight…very—unscrupulous at times, but damn… gettin’ paid to knock someone up is askin’ a bit much, even for a muhfucka like me. I mean, damn…I can understand her desires to be a mother and even bein’ willin’ to pay to become one. But, fuck! To expect me to be aiight wit’ givin’ her my seed, then turnin’ my back on it. Man, listen…I can’t wrap my mind ’round any muhfucka willin’ to walk away from a child, knowin’ it’s theirs. As disconnected as I can be when it comes to chicks ’n shit, I think that’s one thing I’d have a hard time detachin’ myself from. I think it would fuck wit’ me, knowin’ I had a child, a lil’ man or baby girl of my own, out here. And it damn sure would have my moms spazzin’ the fuck out, knowin’ I deprived her of a grandchild. But, then again, for fifty grand…
“Let me think on it,” I finally say.
She smiles, reachin’ up on her tippy-toes, givin’ me a kiss on the lips. “Thank you.”
“I’m not makin’ any promises.”
“And I’m not askin’ for any.”
“Cool.” I pat her on the ass, then grab and squeeze it, pressin’ my dick up against her. “So, you ready for another round of dick?” She nods her head, grabbin’ my joint and grinnin’. She drops down to her knees and starts lappin’ my balls and lickin’ the underside of my hard dick. Before she can attempt to put her mouth ’round it—’cause I ain’t in the mood for her grazin’ my shit wit’ her muthafuckin’ teeth—I pull her up and toss her up over my shoulder, walkin’ her back over to the bed, then ploppin’ her down on it. I push her legs back and dive into the center of her pussy wit’ my tongue, lickin’, lappin’, kissin’, slurpin’ all over it, ’til she cracks a sticky nut. When she finishes buckin’ her hips, I roll a condom down on my dick, then slowly push in, windin’ my hips, tip drillin’ her slit, e’ery so often pushin’ another inch in, then pullin’ back out to the head. She tosses her head from side to side, pulls in her bottom lip. Her eyes start to roll up in the back of her head. OhmyGod, this bitch got some good pussy. I lean in, whisper in her ear, let her know how hot ’n wet her pussy feels ’round my dick before dippin’ my tongue in her ear and suckin’ on her earlobe.
She moans.
I push this dick deep into her.
She moans again, louder.
I pull out to the head, then push back in.
“Oh, Alex…hmmmm…ooooooh, baaaaaby…you make me feel soooo good…whatever you do…please…Don’t ever…stop… fuckin’ me…”
I grin, lockin’ my arms up under her hips. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ma keep fuckin’ you for as long as you want,” I whisper, rockin’ her box for one straight hour ’til she breaks down and cries.
The rest of the day, we lounge ’round her spot naked, fuckin’ whenever the mood hits, and watchin’ flicks in between. ’Round four o’clock, we head downtown to do some last-minute shoppin’. Cherry laces me wit’ a few pairs of DSquared2 V-neck tees, two pair of Gucci jeans, and a slick pair of Versace shades to go along wit’ the rest of the shit she’s already hit me wit’ durin’ my stay here. I can’t front, she spoils the fuck outta me. Hell, as crafty as I am, I know I probably should dismiss the rest of the hoes on my team and give her the lead spot. And who knows, maybe one day I will. But for now, I like shit the way it is between us. However, I’m thinkin’ I might wanna start comin’ out here e’ery other month or so to keep my pockets lined more frequently, feel me? But if I start doin’ that, is she gonna try to turn this thing into some kinda relationship ’n shit? I already know you can’t give a broad too much of you wit’out her catchin’ feelin’s and whatnot, then wantin’ more from a muhfucka. Let me not think too much ’bout it—at least while I’m still here—’cause if I do, I’ma start actin’ funny toward her. Don’t ask me why. That’s just how I do.
When we finish our shoppin’ spree, we decide to stop by this Japanese spot, Octopus, downtown over on Seventh Street ’cross from the Macy’s to eat before it’s time for her to drop me off at the airport. She orders a large hot saki, miso soup, two crunch rolls, and two tiger rolls. I try to keep from frownin’ at the thought of eatin’ salmon and freshwater eel rolled together. And I’m thinkin’:
Over our meal, she tells me how much she enjoyed my stay here and how she wishes I didn’t have to go. I
