Daddy Long Stroke

walk past stores ’til I spot ’em. After ’bout nine stores, I still don’t see ’em so decide to head down to the first level. I stroll by a few stores, and still no sign of ’em. Nigga, what the fuck are you doin’? Ya ass is buggin’ for real, yo. Chasin’ behind a piece of ass. Nigga, you better get ya mind right.

“Fuck them hoes,” I mumble, dippin’ into the 7 For All Mankind store. I browse ’round, try on two pair of jeans, and then six hundred dollars later, I walk up outta there.

Right as I’m ’bout to hit up my niggas to let ’em know I’m ready to bounce, I spot the two Brooklyn beauties comin’ outta a store and walkin’ in my direction. The light-skinned one sees me and says sumthin’ to her peoples, then starts laughin’. As soon as I get up on ’em, I grin, stoppin’ in front of ’er peoples, blockin’ her path.

“Chanel, right?” I say, lookin’ at her. She gives me a phony smile and nod. Is this bitch bipolar, or what? This mornin’, the bitch spoke. Now she’s actin’ brand-new. I turn my attention to her girl. “Why you so mean?”

“Why you all in my face?”

Her girl snickers, shakin’ her head.

“I’m tryna get ya name.”

“Why? You tryna stalk a bitch or sumthin’?”

“Nah, I ain’t on it like that, baby.”

“I can’t tell,” she snaps.

“Kat, will you please give this fool some rhythm so he can be on his way?”

“Kat? Damn…I like that.”

She cuts her eyes at her girl, suckin’ her teeth. “Ugh, bitch, you make me sick.”

“Whatever. The nigga’s fine and you know it. So stop frontin’ and let’s be done wit’ it. I’ma be over in the Aveda store.” She grins, shootin’ me a look, walkin’ off. The beauty in front of me stares me down. I grin.

“What the fuck’s so funny?”

I shake my head, still smilin’. “You’re too damn fine to be so damn evil, baby. All a cat’s tryna do is get ya name, but you actin’ like I’m the muhfucka who broke ya heart.”

She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, lets her Dior bag hang in the crook of her arm. “I’ma tell you this only once, so get it right or get got. First, I’m not ya baby. So, don’t call me that shit. Second, I don’t give a nigga the chance to break my heart, trust. And, third, whatever it is you sellin’, a bitch like me ain’t fuckin’ buyin’, so step.” She brushes past me, but I ain’t havin’ it. This bitch is too damn bad for a muhfucka to let get away that easy.

I walk up alongside of her. “Yo, check this out. I’ma follow you all ’round this muhfucka ’til you talk to me. And if I gotta stand outside ya door at the hotel, I’ma do that, too. But you not gonna just dismiss me like I’m some bum-ass nigga.”

She stops, raises her eyebrow, then grins. “Nigga, you wanna talk, then let’s.”

I flash her a wide smile. “See, baby, that’s all I’m askin’.”

“Nigga, you already fucked up. I told you, once, I’m not ya baby, so don’t call me that. And you do the shit, anyway. Obviously, you don’t listen.”

“I can’t help myself, boo,” I tease.

“I ain’t ya fuckin’ boo, either.”

“Well, maybe I wanna make you both.”

She shakes her head. “Nigga, you can’t make me nuthin’. I know ya kind. And it ain’t what I’m lookin’ for.”

“Oh, yeah…and what’s that?”

“A nigga I would haveta put a bullet in.”

I laugh. “Yo, ma, you funny as hell wit’ that.”

She ice-grills me. “Nigga, I ain’t laughin’.” I keep my smile plastered on my face, but on some real shit, a muhfucka almost believes her. The tone in her voice, the look in her eyes, tells me this sexy-ass bitch is a loose muthafuckin’ cannon. But a nigga like me likes livin’ on the edge. I feel my dick gettin’ hard.

“I’ll take my chances,” I say, grinnin’.

“Then ya ass is dumber than I thought.”

I laugh. “Nah, I’m just a sucker for a beautiful woman.”

She smirks, licks her lips, steps up in my space, lowers her voice and tells me to lean down, so she can whisper sumthin’ in my ear. “And I bet you a sucker for good pussy, and a bitch who can suck down ya dick and lap at ya balls, too…” I grin, noddin’. I let her keep talkin’. “…Well, guess what, muhfucka? I’m that bitch, be clear. Fine, fly, fabulous and freaky wit’ a pussy ’n throat game, so ill it’ll make a nigga sick. But, guess what, muhfucka?”

I can’t front, this bitch talkin’ all slick ’n greasy, got my shit on brick. “Wassup?”

She steps back, stares me up and down, locks her eyes on mine, then back down to the bulge in my pants. She steps back up in my space. “You all dick and no dollars.”

“Oh, word? You think?”

“I know. And like I said, I ain’t the one. So do ya’self a favor and beat it.”

“So what, you a gold digger?”

“No, boo-boo, don’t get it twisted. I got my own paper. I don’t need a nigga for shit. But I know what wets my clit. And a broke nigga ain’t it.”

“Good, then we on the same page ’cause I don’t need a nigga for shit either. And I don’t have a clit.”

She smiles, shakin’ her head.

“Damn, underneath all that meanness, you gotta pretty smile.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere wit’ me.”

“Will it at least get me ya number?”

“For what? It’s not like you gettin’ some pussy.”

Damn, I wanna snap her muthafuckin’ back in. “Yo, ma, check this shit out. I’m standin’ here tryna rap to you ’cause you fine as fuck, but don’t get shit twisted. I ain’t pressed for no ass. I get that wit’ no effort, so don’t get it fucked up. But what I want to do is get to know you. Maybe take ya sexy ass out to dinner, then, maybe, to a show. But you on some extra stuck-up shit.”

She glances at her frosted timepiece. “It’s been real,” she says, as her girl approaches us, “but ya time’s up.”

I laugh. “Yo, it’s all good, ma. But know this. I’ma be at ya door tonight.”

She sucks her teeth. “Bitch, let’s go,” she says to her peoples. “This nigga right here is crazy.”

I laugh. “Ya’ll be easy.”

“Whatever,” Kat says, walkin’ off. Her girl smirks at me, shakin’ her head, followin’ behind. I watch as they get lost in the sea of shoppers, pullin’ out my cell. I see I have six missed calls and five voice messages. I hit Mike up and tell him I’m ready to bounce, then head toward the other end of the mall to meet up wit’ ’im. I listen to my messages as I’m walkin’.

The first one is from Lydia. “Hey, sexy man, I got everything set up with two of my girls. They’re both sexy bombshells, so you’ll be pleased. Hit me back when you can, so we can get this thing going. I’m horny. It’s going to be a night full of whips and chains and swings. I can’t wait.” I can’t front the ho had me ’til she brought up whips and chains and swings ’n shit. What the fuck kinda shit is she in to? All I asked for is three chicks to wet up this dick, and she’s addin’ extra shit. I delete the message.

The next message is from Akina. “Alex, it’s a new year, we really need to sit down and talk. Hit me up when you can.” Delete. “Bitch, after that stunt you pulled, you are officially invisible to me,” I say, goin’to the next message.

“Alley Cat, what’s good, nigga? It’s ya boy Red. I did it. I proposed to my girl. We set the date for Saturday, October thirty-first. It’s on Halloween night. Don’t laugh nigga. But my girl wants it to be a costume- style weddin’. I told her she’s buggin’, but hey, it’s what she wants. So, yeah, ya ass is gonna haveta come in costume, nigga.” He laughs. “Holla back.” What kinda shit is that? Who the fuck ever heard of a muhfucka gettin’ married on Halloween night? I think, savin’ the message.

The fourth message is from Maleeka. “Hey, Alley Cat, this is ya girl, Maleeka. Hit me back. You already know what it is. Don’t have me waitin’ too long, nigga.” Delete.