’cause I wanted to. Just like you put ya hands on me ’cause you wanted to. And that’s what it is.”

“So basically fuck me, right?”

“Your words, not mine,” I say, endin’ the call.

 32 

Six A.M., I wake up. My dick hard, heavy, and achin’ wants release. A muhfucka’s mad horny. And straight jackin’ my shit ain’t gonna cut it. Not at this moment. I need to stick it in sumthin’. But I ain’t beat for a buncha noise. I get outta bed, go into my walk-in closet and come back out wit’ my “Baby Got Back Sex Doll” wit’ the wireless vibratin’ pussy and ass. I lube it up, then fuck it doggie-style grabbin’ its perky titties and thrustin’ this naked cock up in it. This is the only time I get to fuck raw. I close my eyes and imagine I’m gettin’ it in wit’ Halle Berry. I’m tearin’ that ass up a mile a minute, givin’ her all of me. Its pussy walls vibrate along the sides of my dick. I pull out, pour more lube up in it, then slide my dick back in, pumpin’ ’n gruntin’. “Aaah, shit.”

Yo, hol’ up, I know there’s no substitute for some real, live, pussy. But e’ery now and then, a muhfucka ain’t beat for all the extras. I don’t use this thing often, but when I do…man, listen, I get my two-hundred-and-sixty dollars outta it. And the good thing is, I ain’t gotta worry ’bout it stressin’ me the hell out. I can bust all up in it, clean it up, then lock it away ’til the next time. And that’s exactly what I do.

’Bout eight-thirty I head over to the gym, get in a two-hour workout, then come back home to shower. As I’m steppin’ into my boxers, my cell rings. The special ring tone alerts me that it’s Moms.

“So you gonna let days go by without calling?” she asks as soon as I answer.

“Nah, I been busy,” I lie.

“Mmmph,” she grunts. “Too busy to pick up a phone, I see.”

“Sumthin’ like that. But if you really want the truth, I figured I give you some space since you were spazzin’ out the last time I saw you.”

“Well, if you wanna live in your feelings, then you go right ahead. When you’re ready to get over yourself, you know I’ma still love you. And I’ma still curse you the hell out when need be.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Well, I’m calling you for two reasons. One, to let you know your father was admitted into the hospital last night.”

I flop down on my bed, shocked. “Hospital? What happened to him?” She tells me that he was havin’ chest pains. That his blood pressure is sky-high and they’re keeping him under observation for another night. That he’s at UMDNJ University Hospital in Newark. She gives me the visitin’ times. And for some strange reason, I’m feelin’ responsible for what happened to ’im. “Damn,” I say, rubbin’ my forehead, “was he havin’ a heart attack or sumthin’?”

“They’re not sure. Hopefully, they’ll know more once all the tests are in. In the meantime, that’s where he’s gonna be.”

“Cool. I’ll be up there later on tonight. Now, what was ya other reason for callin’?”

“I met Ramona.”

“Who?” I ask, frownin’. She repeats herself. “I heard you. But I’m surprised. Where’d you meet that broad at?”

“Over at your father’s. She showed up there looking for you, but when your father told her you weren’t there, she asked to come in to speak with him. He thought I might wanna have a chat with her as well.”

“About what?” I ask, feelin’ myself gettin’ agitated.

“She told us she’s carryin’ your baby.”

“Yeah, and? She’s the chick I was tellin’ you about.”

“I figured that. Well, she says she’s keeping it. She also said you told her you wanted nothing to do with her or the baby.”

This fuckin’ bitch! I clench my teeth. Feel the muscles in my jaw tighten. “She’s right. I don’t want shit to do wit’ her. ’Cause that’s. Not. My. Baby.”

“Are you sure?”

I suck my teeth, sighin’. “Ma, of course, I’m sure. That broad’s not pregnant by me. She’s delusional.”

“She also said you’ve put your hands on her, too. Is that true?”

“Say, what?!? What the fuck! I’ve never touched that fuckin’ lyin’-ass nut.”

“I hope not. But after your incident at your father’s, I’m not so sure.”

A muhfucka’s ’bout to black. “Ma, I gotta go. I’m not gettin’ into this wit’ you. I’ll talk to you later, aiight.”

“I’m not done talking.”

“Well, I am. I’ll see you at the hospital.” I disconnect the call before she can say sumthin’ else, then immediately hit Ramona’s ass up. She answers on the fifth ring. “Aye, yo, what the fuck are you doin’?”

“Ummm, whadaya mean?”

“Yo, what the fuck you mean, ‘whadaya mean’? Don’t fuckin’ play games wit’ me. You know what the fuck I’m talkin’ ’bout.”

“I knew I’d hear from you,” she states calmly. “How you been, baby?”

“What the fuck you doin’ goin’ over to my Pops’ spot?”

“Well I needed to get your attention some kind of way. And obviously, I have.”

“Yo, you fuckin’ crazy, for real, yo.”

She laughs. “Nigga, you can call me crazy all you want. The fact still remains that I’m pregnant. And it’s yours.”

“No, the fact is you’re a lyin’ nut-ass.”

“And I’m still pregnant.”

I can tell this ho is gonna be a muthafuckin’ thorn in my side. It’s moments like this I wish I had a buncha sisters I could call on when I needed them to rock a ho’s snotbox. “Okay, maybe you are, but for the hundredth time…It’s. NOT. Mine!

“It is yours.”

“Whatever, yo. Anytime we fucked I wrapped up.”

“Well, a few times I poked holes in the condoms.”

“Say what?”

“You heard me.”

I blow out a buncha aggravated air. “And how the fuck you do that?”

“Easy. I’d wait until you went into the bathroom, then I’d reach over and take the condoms you’d leave on the dresser, or I’d sneak and get the ones you had in your pants pocket and poke ’em up. Of course, I didn’t do it right away. I waited for the right time. Watched your moves every time you were with me before doin’ anything. And voila! I’m with child. Your child. Now what would you like to name him or her?”

On some real shit, a muhfucka can’t believe what the fuck I’m hearin’. But, then again I can. This goes to show how muthafuckin’ desperate this bottom-of-the-barrel bitch really is. Yeah, she mighta poked holes in the condoms, but a muhfucka never nutted in her. I’d always pull out and bust down in her throat, or all over her face and titties. So unless she scooped the shit up offa her nipples and lips, then planted it up in her, she’s a muthafuckin’ lie. So the joke’s on her retarded ass. “I’m not namin’ it shit, ’cause it ain’t mine. You know it, and I know it. Now stop callin’ me. And stay the fuck away from my family.”

She laughs. “Or what, my baby daddy?”

I shake my head. “Yo, do us both a favor, and go jump ya dizzy-ass off a cliff.” I disconnect the call, sparkin’ a blunt. Fuckin’ wit’ her ass done gave me a splittin’-ass headache. This psycho bitch tryna drive a muhfucka to start lacin’ his shit, I think, blowin’ smoke up at the ceilin’.

By the time I get to the hospital to see Pops, it’s close to six-thirty. Visitin’ is over at like eight, I think. When I get to the visitor’s desk, I get my visitor’s pass, then make my way to the elevators. There’s mad heads e’erywhere up in this piece. I shake my head, hopin’ like hell I never end up in this bitch. Pops’ room is up on the tenth floor. I walk toward his wing, then look for his room number. A few nurses speak and smile. I speak back, but

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