Daddy Long Stroke

“OhmyGod, I can’t believe you.”

“Believe it or not, I’m tellin’ you some real shit.”

“You are so fucking arrogant and selfish!”

“I know,” I tell her, pullin’ up to the parkin’ lot gate. I roll my window down and press the button for my ticket. “It is what it is. I enjoyed fuckin’ you, baby. But this dick comes wit’ an expiration date on it, and your time for gettin’ it is up.”

“Fuck you,” she snaps. “One day you’re gonna fuck over the wrong bitch. And I hope I’m there to see you get everything you got coming.”

I drive ’round the parkin’ area, tryna find a damn parkin’ space. It’s packed out this bitch. After drivin’ ’round for almost ten minutes, I find a spot. “Well,’til then, I’ma keep fuckin’, baby. So whatever happens happens.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

I laugh, grabbin’ my shit outta the car, then runnin’ over to catch the airport bus. “I know. And I fucked you all up in yours, didn’t I?” I hop on, tell the driver which airlines I’m flyin’ on, then take a seat in the back. “Do ya’self a favor, boo. Delete my number. And stay far away from any muhfucka who ain’t tryna treat you wit’ respect, ya heard?”

She sighs. “I guess I should be thanking you. But I’m too mad at you right now.”

“No thanks needed, baby. You’ll get over it. Would you have rather I lied to you and kept playin’ you out?”

“No.”

“Aiight then. Take what I’m tellin’ you as a gift. The next muhfucka might not be so generous.” I end the call. Far as I’m concerned, there’s no sense in goin’ back ’n forth. I done told her all she needs to know. What she does wit’ the shit is up to her. I got bigger and better things to do than to be tryna counsel some lost cause.

The shuttle drops me off in front of Continental. I grab my shit, hop off and head through the glass doors. Forty minutes later I’m boardin’ my flight to L.A. I take my seat, and buckle up, then shut down my cell. I’m sittin’ here thinkin’ L.A. might not be a bad spot to make my winter hangout. I could spend three months away from this cold-ass weather, then come back to Jersey in the spring, and chill ’til the winter comes through again. It’d definitely break up doin’ the same ole same ole. Not that I’ve been lookin’, but it’ll be nice to have a few West Coast beauties to fuck on those days I’m not beat to fuck wit’ Cherry’s ass.

LAX Airport, as usual, is busy. I peep a few bitches wit’ potential, but don’t really put out any energy to speak. Right now my mind’s been on that sexy-ass ho Kat. I had her on the brain practically the whole flight out here, imaginin’ fuckin’ her all night. The shit had my dick hard as concrete. I’ma definitely get at her when I touch Jersey again.

Soon as I get to the baggage claim area to get my bag, my cell rings. PRIVATE NUMBER flashes up on the screen. I shake my head. Muhfuckas crack me the fuck up me wit’ blockin’ their numbers. My thing is, if you callin’ me and you don’t want me to know ya number, then you must already be a muhfucka I ain’t fuckin’ wit’ any damn way. So I don’t give a fuck ’bout not havin’ ya digits. “Yo?”

“You might have gotten off on them charges, but…”

“Oh, so it’s you who’s been callin’ and not sayin’ shit on the phone?”

“You don’t know that. Maybe it’s another fool you fucked over.”

I sigh. “Ramona, why the fuck are you callin’ me?”

“Because I’m not done with you.”

“Well, I’m done wit’ you.”

“You think you can fuck me, get me knocked up, then dismiss me like I ain’t shit, and I’m supposed to go away quietly? Wrong answer. I am about to become your worst fucking nightmare.”

“Bitch, you’re fuckin’ crazy, for real, yo.”

She laughs. “That’s already been established, nigga. And you fucked over the wrong bitch in the process.”

I can’t believe this ho is fuckin’ threatenin’ me, like that’s ’posed to mean sumthin’ to me. This bitch needs to let the shit go, for real. I hear Moms’ voice; You’re playing a very dangerous game messing over these women the way you do…A scorned woman can become a very dangerous woman…It’s only a matter of time before you find yourself lying up in a hospital bed…

“Check this out, you fuckin’ nutcase, nobody forced ya dumb ass to do anything you didn’t wanna do, so if you feel fucked over, you did it to ya’self. So save all ya theatrics for a muhfucka who gives a fuck. ’Cause, bitch, I don’t.”

“I swear to fucking God, you won’t know when or where, but I promise you—for every woman you’ve ever fucked over, I’m going to make you pay, if it’s the last motherfucking thing I do.”

“Yo, that shit you talkin’ don’t rattle me. Do what you gotta do and stop fuckin’ callin’ me.”

“I hate you!”

I laugh. “That’s already been established. But you hate ya’self even more. You hate the fact that you miss a muhfucka like me; that you can’t let the fuck go, and move on wit’ ya miserable-ass life. Yeah, baby, you hate me, aiight…”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. I hate you ’cause your no-good, black ass ain’t shit! I hate you ’cause you’re a motherfucking user.”

“Yeah, whatever you say. Admit it, boo. You hate it even more that a no-good, black ass muhfucka like me shut off ya cock supply; that I dismissed ya ass wit’out blinkin’ an eye. Well, guess what? Get the fuck over it. Chalk it up as a lesson learned and move the fuck on.”

“Until you’ve paid for what you’ve done to me, I’m not moving on.”

I sigh. “Yo, do you hear how retarded you sound, right now? What you need to do is look in the muthafuckin’ mirror, and deal wit’ the real problem, baby—you, instead of tryna blame me for ya shit.” She starts yappin’ off at the mouth ’bout what she’s never gonna go through again, ’bout how she’s never gonna trust another nigga again, blah, blah, blah. The bitch is doin’ all this talkin’, but ain’t sayin’ a muthafuckin’ thing that makes sense. I end the call wit’ her still flappin’ her jaws, shakin’ my head. This shit is really gettin’ outta hand. I decide to get my number changed the minute I get back to Jersey. I need to shut down all access these nut-ass bitches have to me.

Bitches kill me. Who the fuck they think they foolin’? All that dumb shit most of ’em be poppin’ ’bout what they not gonna do for a nigga. That’s a buncha bullshit, for real; ’specially when it comes to a muhfucka like me. I know I got good dick. And I know how to use e’ery muthafuckin’ inch of it. This long black dick is a ho’s blessing and her curse. It’s what they all want. It’s what they all obsess over. The size of a nigga’s dick; how low he’s hangin’; how much he’s packin’. It’s what they crave. And I’ve seen what a bitch will do to get at it. I’ve had bitches fall in love wit’ this dick; bitches who’ve stalked this dick; bitches who’d run down their own mamas to taste this dick in the back of their throats. Even when they know the nigga attached to it ain’t ever gonna be theirs. Even when they know the muhfucka pipin’ out their insides is gonna be the same muhfucka who disses their asses. Yet, they still wanna fuck; still wanna keep gettin’ this dick. So you tell me. Who the fuck is the real problem, them or me?

I peep my bag comin’ outta the chute, then grab it when it comes down toward me. I head outside. Damn, it’s gorgeous out this bitch. I smile, breathin’ in all the smog. Bottom line, there’s always gonna be a buncha horny-ass bitches out here who wanna fuck, be fucked, and suck down on this nut. I ain’t braggin’. I’m keepin’ shit real. And the real shit is, there’s always gonna be a ho out here who’s gonna always keep a nigga like me piped out and laced up. There’s always gonna be a buncha lonely, low-self-esteem-havin’, lovesick hoes out here who are gonna do whatever they can to have a muhfucka like me in their beds, even if it means they gotta beg, borrow, or steal. Even if it means they gotta keep lookin’ in the mirror e’ery damn day, lyin’ to themselves that a nigga like me is gonna one day love ’em back.

Like I told ya’ll goin’ into this shit, fuck wit’ a muhfucka like me at ya own risk. I’m ya sweetest most dangerous addiction— that dark, chocolate nigga who’s gonna melt in ya mouth and all up in guts. Have you feenin’ for ya next taste. I told you if you want it rough, you want it rugged. I’ma slay ya muthafuckin’ ass ’til ya shit-hole starts to smoke. No joke. You want it slow, you want it gentle. I’ma rock ya box ’til ya eyes cross, and that’s what it is. A muhfucka like me ain’t lookin’ for love, and I ain’t askin’ for none in return. There are only two things I seek. The first is pussy, and lots of it—deep, wet and gushy. The second is a long throat: a bitch who knows howta suck, gulp and swallow down a dick. And that’s it. All that extra shit, save it for the next muhfucka.

Cherry pulls up to the curb in her Jag. The top’s down, and she’s lookin’ like a million bucks. I toss my bag in