Cairo - Daddy Long Stroke

“That’s wassup, baby. Yo, you feel like suckin’ this dick tonight?”

“Always,” she responds. “Just let me know when.”

“Bet. I’ma swing through as soon as I toss out this trash.”

Shakeeta slams her hand up on her hip. Her neck starts rollin’. “Nigga, I know your black ass is not tryna call me trash. And how the fuck you gonna call another bitch up and I’m standing right here…”

“Who’s that in the background?” Carla asks. “Sounds like—”

“I’ll see you in a half-hour,” I say, cuttin’ her off and snappin’ my phone shut.

“…That’s some real foul shit, nigga, for you to disrespect me like that,” she continues as she puts on the rest of her shit. “But, not to worry, muhfucka, I ain’t hard-pressed for no nigga, or his dick, especially yours. Trust me.”

I laugh at her ass. “Mighty funny ya ass is always blowin’ up my line talkin’ ’bout how much you need this dick, how much you love this dick, how much you don’t wanna stop gettin’ this dick. But now you ain’t pressed. Yeah, okay. That’s what ya mouth says.”

“Fuck you!” she yells, swingin’ open the bedroom door, and stormin’ down the stairs. I follow behind her, holdin’ my breath, hopin’ like hell Pops ain’t here to hear this shit. That’s all I need right now. “You ain’t shit, nigga, for real.” She gets to the front door, swings it open, then stops before walkin’ out. She turns to face me. “I shoulda shitted in ya motherfuckin’ mouth.”

“Ho, get ya stankin’ bum-ass on up outta here.”

She gives me the finger. “Fuck you, nigga! I’ve been thrown outta better places.” She storms out, leavin’ the front door wide open.

I walk over and shut the door, lockin’ it. Then stand in the middle of the livin’ room for a minute, listenin’ to see if I hear Pops stirrin’ ’round up in this piece. I can’t front, a nigga’s relieved that it’s quiet. Pops done warned me hundreds of times ’bout bringin’ this kinda shit up in his spot, and the last thing I need is for him to walk in on it. Dude would be up in here snappin’ for sure. Nigga, you know you shoulda handled that bitch better than that , I think, headin’ back up the stairs to slip on some sweats and a T-shirt. What if she woulda started bustin’ shit up in here? How the fuck would you ’splain that?

I take the steps two at a time, goin’ upstairs to the bathroom. I brush my teeth and tongue, starin’ into the mirror. Even after I’ve scrubbed my gums ’n shit, I still taste her rotten ass in my mouth. I brush my tongue again, then rinse my mouth out wit’ Listerine. Fuck that nasty, skank-ass bitch , I think, shakin’ my head. I rinse my mouth, again, then shut off the lights. She mad ’cause I tossed her ho-ass out wit’ a throbbin’ pussy, and gypped her outta a nut. I grab my cell, then redial Carla’s number as I’m headin’ back down the stairs to let her know I’m on my way. Of course she wants me to eat her pussy. Fuck outta here. I let the bitch know that’s not ’bout to happen, not tonight. Especially not after the shit that just went down with Shakeeta’s triflin’ ass.

She sucks her teeth. “Are you gonna at least stay the night?”

I think for a minute. I got a lotta shit to do early tomorrow so this bird is gonna haveta settle for a drive-by. “Nah,” I tell her. “I got shit to do in the mornin’, but I can swing back through later on to hit you up wit’ a dose of this heavy dick, aiight?”

Silence. The bitch knows if she doesn’t wet this dick tonight it’s a wrap. I’m cuttin’ her supply off. And I know like she does, that’s the last thing she wants. “When you leaving?”

I laugh to myself. “Now. So have them dick suckas wet ’n ready.”

Two hours later, I’m back home, steppin’ outta the shower. I’m refreshed, relaxed, and ready to take it down for the night when my cell rings. I glance at the screen. It’s this broad I’m ’posed to get up wit’ tomorrow. I met her up on BlackPlanet, another spot where I meet most of these broads I’m smashin’. She had hit my Daddy Long Stroke page up a few months back after peepin’ my body flicks on it. Then she started visitin’ my page e’ery damn day, leavin’ me comments on my guestbook, and hittin’ me with notes, and gifts ’n shit—like all the other broads I meet on there. Word up, it be live and poppin’ on that site. Alotta them Black-Planet hoes be some real thirsty asses. Fuck what ya heard. The economy may be all fucked up, but trust and believe, there’s a surplus of pussy out here, and a nigga wit’ a good stroke game will never go broke.

I look over at the digital clock. It’s 1:22 A.M. What the fuck she want this time of night? I think, pressin’ the Talk button. “Yo,” I say into the phone.

“You still coming up here tomorrow?” she asks.

“We still fuckin’, right?”

She sucks her teeth. “Is that the only thing you interested in?”

“Hell yeah. You gotta problem wit’ that?”

“Well,” she says, pausin’, “I was hopin’ we could grab a bite to eat, then maybe catch a movie or something, first.”

I frown. For the last few weeks, fuckin’ is all we been talkin’ ’bout. Now all of a sudden this ho wanna be on some let’s-grab-a-bite-to-eat bull, like she tryna go out on a muthafuckin’ date. Fuck outta here! I think, do I tell this ho what she wants to hear, or do I keep shit real? I decide to give it to her straight, no chaser. “I’m tryna get this dick wet, baby. That’s it. You can save the extras for some other cat.”

Silence.

“Yo, you still there?”

“Yeah,” she says, soundin’ annoyed. “I’m still here.”

I feel myself ’bout to spaze out on her dizzy ass for callin’ here this time of night wit’ this stupid shit. I take a deep breath, spark up the half-smoked blunt layin’ in the ashtray on my nightstand, then take two long, deep pulls, holdin’ the smoke in my lungs ’til I calm myself down. I blow it out. “So, what’s good? We fuckin’ or not?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, aiight, then. That’s what it is. What, you done talked all that shit over the phone and now you gettin’ scared ’n shit?”

“I’m not scared.”

“Then why you call here tryna front on a muhfucka?”

“I told you. I was hoping we could go out somewhere, first.”

I take another pull offa my blunt, then slowly blow it out. “Nah, baby, it ain’t that kinda party. You been talkin’ a lotta good shit, now it’s time to show ’n prove. Let a muhfucka see if you really know howta throw that pussy up on a dick. ’Cause, on some real shit, I’m tryna snap ya spine.”

She starts laughin’. “OhmyGod, you real funny.”

Funny hell. Ho, I’ma rip ya muthafuckin’ back open. “Yeah, go on and get ya laugh on, baby,” I warn. “I’ma be up there tomorrow. Let’s see if you gonna be laughin’ then.” She giggles some more, then gets quiet after I tell her she betta take her ass to bed ’cause she’s gonna need all the rest she can get. ’Cause on some real shit, after I’m done wit’ her she’s gonna need the paramedics. A muhfucka’s comin’ through to dig her ass out.

“Yeah, that’s right, baby. Spread them pretty-ass legs, and pull open ya pussy,” I say, strokin’ my dick while watchin’ my fuck for the night play in her juicy fur burger. Don’t get shit twisted, though. This honey-dipped ho with her wavy black hair and mesmerizin’ eyes is bad as hell. Her skin is fuckin’ flawless, too—soft and smooth like silk. And her body…whew! Man, listen, pictures do her no justice. This bitch’s body is the fuckin’ truth. Little waist, flat stomach, big-ass cantaloupe titties with inch-long pierced nipples—yeah, and a nigga like me gotta thing for a chick with long nipples. I like to lightly pinch, twist, pull and tease ’em with my fingers, then nibble on ’em with my lips and teeth. Oh, damn…I done got sidetracked thinkin’ ’bout suckin’ all over them thing-things. So, dig. Like I was sayin’ ’n shit, this chick gotta ass you can bury ya face up in. A muhfucka can get lost for months up in them cakes. It’s the kinda ass you can bounce up and down on all night. But, on the real, yo, how the fuck a bitch gonna drop her muthafuckin’ drawers and not have her bush trimmed? I don’t mind hair, but gotdamn…this shit right here is unreal. Don’t get it twisted. I don’t discriminate. I love all types of pussy. Fat pussy, tight pussy, loose pussy— bald, trimmed, and covered with hair. I don’t give a fuck. Just make sure that shit is hot ’n wet. ’Cause at the end of the day, it’s all fuckable as long as it’s clean. But, man, listen…this chick’s snatch is like a fuckin’ rainforest. And on some real shit, it better be as wet as one, or I’ma ram this thick dick straight up in her Neanderthal ass.