Cairo - The Kat Trap

I whispered in his ear, “I wanna suck all over ya thick, black dick.”

He lowered his voice. “Oh, word?”

I nodded, kissin’ him on his lips and neck, then slitherin’ my way down his body in between his legs, reachin’ for his dick. “Can I suck daddy’s big dick?” I asked, as if I was beggin’ for it. I slowly licked my lips, pullin’ his dick outta the slit of his boxers. I flicked my tongue across the head. “Oh, I need daddy’s dick real bad.” He lifted his arms up, then locked his fingers together, placing them under his head, spreadin’ his legs wider apart. He lifted his hips and allowed me to remove his underwear all the way down to his ankles. His dick was brick. “Oh, yes,” I said, grabbin’ his dick at the base, lickin’ the drool from the corners of my lips. “Look at all this big dick. Mmm…you got a pretty dick.”

“Yeah, you love that dick, don’t you?”

“Mmm-hmm,” I moaned, kissin’ the tip of his dick. “I”—kiss—“love”—kiss—“it.”

He let out a soft moan as I nibbled and licked on his balls, then slid my tongue along the back of his dick. I slid my lips up and down it, from his balls back up to the tip of his dick, wettin’ it up real nice, glidin’ my tongue all over it. He moaned again. I smiled and wrapped my lips around the head of his cock, and slowly gulped it down one inch at a time until I had his entire dick down in my throat. “Oh, shit, baby,” he groaned. “You tryna fuck a nigga’s head up.”

I increased the suction and neck bobbin’, while massagin’ and squeezin’ his balls. He grabbed the sides of my head, slowly pumped his hips, then face-fucked me until he shot his thick, creamy load down into my throat. Humph. There was nothin’ like lickin’ and suckin’ the nut outta a thick cock. Although I swallowed most of it, some still overflowed outta my mouth and dripped along the sides of his dick and down onto his balls. But a cum-hungry bitch like me never wastes a drop. I licked and slurped all around his balls and dick, then took him back into my mouth and sucked the remainin’ drops of his nut until his body shook, and his eyes rolled up in his head. And for the rest of the night, I wet his dick and kept him fucked down to the bone, hopin’ he wouldn’t press me for answers I was never gonna be ready to give.

Everything ain’t always what it seems…Niggas frontin’, bitches stuntin’…at the end of the day, it’s all a dream…so you better watch ya step…there ain’t no loyalty, there ain’t no love…just a bunch of niggas and bitches…grimy, ruthless, rotten to the core…

Biggie’s “Niggas Bleed” was blarin’ outta the Bose speakers of my sleek silver Jaguar XJ12 as I drove down the parkway, heading south toward Atlantic City. A bitch was feelin’ sexy and real horny. It was close to midnight, and the ride was smooth as fuck until I almost hit a damn deer that raced across the highway. I swerved to the right, quickly brakin’, then pressin’ down on the gas pedal, pushin’ one-ten. It takes a lot to shake a bitch like me, but the thought of havin’ a damn deer flipped up on my fuckin’ hood or comin’ through my windshield with its hoof in my grill had a bitch shook. I ain’t gonna front. But I sparked a blunt, took three deep pulls, and quickly pulled it together, thinkin’ ’bout my mark for the night.

I was gonna fuck him real good, then splatter his brains out. I pressed my thighs together, tryna pinch the excitement stirrin’ between my legs. Yes, I was gonna fuck this nigga to death, literally and figuratively. But then I felt guilty. Fuckin’ with Grant had my groove all jacked up. Like I already told ya, I was diggin’ the nigga. And I knew I wouldn’t be able to live a double life if I wanted to be wifed-up by his ass. I was glad his ass was outta town doin’ him for the weekend. Although fuckin’ these marks was strictly a part of how I handled my business, it would be cheatin’. So I decided I’d have to stop fuckin’ ’em if I was gonna rock with Grant. Yep, this is the last mark I’m fuckin’, I thought, veerin’ off the ramp onto the toll road for AC. From now on, I’ll just kill ’em on the spot. No extras.

I caught my reflection in my rearview mirror, pulled the front of my burgundy spiked, pixie-cut wig cap down a little, then made sure my self-made beauty mole over my lip was still in place. I adjusted my wire-framed Christian Dior glasses. I hated all these wigs and makeup ’n shit, but they were needed props. I pulled into the parkin’ garage for the Borgata, then checked inside my Gucci duffle bag to make sure I had e’erything. It was show-time.

I entered the fly-ass hotel, strutted through the casino toward the elevators to my mark’s suite. On the way up, somethin’ didn’t feel right. My gut told me to turn around and take my ass back home. I was startin’ to feel real paranoid ’bout shit, but knew I couldn’t back out. There was money to be made, and a body to be accounted for. What the fuck! I snapped in my head, steppin’ outta the elevator. I shoulda never smoked that shit. The closer I got to my mark’s room, the more shit didn’t feel right. So, I decided to follow my gut. I’m not fuckin’ this nigga; not tonight. In that split second, I decided I would just smoke his ass and bounce.

I reached his door, then looked around to make sure no witnesses were around. I knocked. A few minutes later, the door opened. There stood my mark in a pair of black jeans and black tee shirt. The nigga was fine. He had caramel-coated skin with thick lips, a big nose, and a bangin’ body. “Yes?” he said, checkin’ me out from head to toe. “How can I help you?”

Damn, this nigga looks like someone, I thought. “Somebody called for a massage,” I said, takin’ ’im in.

“Nah, baby, you got the wrong room.”

I felt my nipples harden and licked my lips. “That’s too bad,” I said, eyein’ him real slow and sexy-like. “I woulda loved roamin’ ya body with my hands. Oh well. Enjoy ya night.”

“Yo, hold up,” he said. I stopped in my tracks, slowly turnin’ around. Gotcha! “How much one of those massages run?”

“For you,” I said, smilin’. “It’ll be on the house. And I’ll even give ya a nice release.” I winked. He smiled. “I promise. You’ll feel like ya floatin’ on clouds when I’m done workin’ ya body.”

“I like that,” he said, steppin’ back and openin’ the door with a big-ass grin on his face. “Come on in. After the night I’ve had, I can definitely use a little tension release.”

I stepped into the spacious suite. It was just him there. “Okay, you’ll need to remove all your clothes.”

“Say what?”

“It’s a nude massage, baby,” I said. “You need to be butt-ass.”

He chuckled. “Got ya. Uh, so this really does come with a happy ending?” He started laughin’. “Just kiddin’.”

I smiled. “Actually, big daddy, it sure does. When I’m done with you, ya gonna be spillin’ all over the place.”

“Oh, word? That’s wassup.”

He removed his clothes, then lay across the king-sized bed. I tried not to look too hard at his muscled back and thighs. His ass was nice and firm. My mind started wanderin’ and a bitch started wonderin’ what it would feel like havin’ my legs up over his shoulders and my nails diggin’ in his muscular ass cheeks while he fucked me down. I shook away the thought before I changed my mind and gave him some pussy.

As soon as he turned his head, facin’ the other way, I reached into my bag and pulled out my nickel-plated nine-millimeter with the silencer attached. I walked up on him. Theessrrpp! I blasted him in the back of his head. I hadn’t touched shit so I was gonna be able to dip out real easy. I let out a deep breath, relieved that this went smoother than I had expected. Well, that’s what I thought. But jas I was headed toward the door, it opened. And in stepped this fine-ass nigga. My eyes popped open. My face cracked. Keepin’ shit real, a bitch almost passed the fuck out. It was Grant!