“Niggah, how you know?” I shout. “You wit’ her twenty-four seven?”
“No, but—”
“Whatever, man! Fuck her!” I continue to shout, becoming frustrated by the thought of her fuckin’ the next niggah. Evay looks like I’ve hurt his feelings. He stands there quietly, at a loss for words.
“Yo, I ain’t mean to scream on you, Evay…my bad ‘bout dat.”
“It ain’t nothin’, Ja. I’m a big boy; I can handle it.”
I get up off my car and hurl the forty, smashing it against a brick wall.
“You sure you’re aiight?”
I nod my head. “I’m out, son.”
“Yo, I’m gonna meet Tyrone and da fellows later on Jamaica Ave. You comin’ through?” Evay asks.
“I’m gonna think about it,” I say jumping into my car. I sit in the driver’s seat for a few minutes, contemplating whether or not to give Shana a call. My heart is telling me to call her, but my ego is saying, fuck dat bitch! I listen to my ego and decide to make other moves right now. I pick up my phone and dial a quick booty call. I know she’s guaranteed ass for the day; every time I call, she never tells me no. I’m horny, and fuckin’ with her would help me take my mind off of Shana for a minute.
I speed dial her number and she picks up after the second ring. “Hello?”
“Hey, what’s up, love?”
“Hey, you, what’s going on? I ain’t heard from you in a few days. You okay?” she asks with concern.
“Yeah, I’m good. So what’s going on wit’ you?”
“Nothin’. You comin’ through?”
I smile knowingly. “Dat’s why I called.”
“I hear dat, baby. I miss you.”
“So what you got for me?”
“Same thing I had for you last time.”
“Oh, word?” My smile grows bigger. The last time we hooked up, she gave me head for an hour. And her pussy is good. “Aiight, I’ll be at your place in fifteen minutes. You cool wit’ dat?”
“Yeah, just come through. You know you miss it.”
I laugh, hang up and start my engine. I keep telling myself that I’m not gonna stress Shana as I drive to my booty call’s destination. I have a pack of Trojans in the glove compartment and a hard-on as I think about the pussy I’m about to get into.
I drive down Farmers Boulevard doing fifty miles per hour. So far I’m lucky that I’m not getting pulled over by 5-0. I make a right on Linden Boulevard and another right a few blocks down on 179th Street. She lives in a basement apartment of a two-story brick home in a prestigious area. I pull into a parking space out front and quickly exit my ride. I strut to the side entrance of her basement apartment. I ring her bell twice and stand off to the side, waiting for her to come to the door.
She appears almost instantly, opening the screen door with a Colgate smile. “Hey, baby.” She throws her petite arms around my neck and embraces me. She then gives me a quick kiss on the lips. I have to step back and admire her rawness; there’s no shame in her game—coming to the door in a pair of lacy, boy-shorts and a T-shirt so scanty that it barely covers her tits. “You like?” she asks throwing herself into a quick pose for me to admire.
“Yeah, I love how you get down,” I reply.
“You gonna stand out here and drool, or come inside and handle your business?”
“What you think?” She playfully pulls me by my shirt into the doorway and drags my ass down the steps to her place.
Latish is a freak on a level that most niggahs can’t handle. Like I said before, she never says no to the dick. Even on her period, she wants to fuck a niggah, but running red lights ain’t my thing. She’s got every sex toy imaginable locked away in her bedroom closet. I mean, she even has a swing that hangs down from the ceiling; you strap a bitch in and fuck her as the two of you just swing away...it’s crazy. We tried it once and I have to admit, it was definitely an experience I’ll never forget.
Latish and I started fucking a few days after Shana and I broke up. But to be honest, we’ve had a few affairs even when Shana and I were together. Of course she knew about Shana at the time, but she didn’t care; the dick was too good to her and she wasn’t trying to give it up, despite her friendship with my ex-girlfriend.
I hear a song by Jagged Edge. The lyrics of Promise blast from the six speakers situated throughout the room. I stand in the center of her living room as she slowly begins unbuttoning my shirt and saturates my neck with slow, pleasing kisses. She pulls my collared shirt down around my shoulder blades, and her lips and tongue go to work on my nipples. I let out a slight moan and grab a handful of her beautiful silky hair.
Latish’s basement apartment is lavishly decorated in imported leather furniture and African décor. She definitely has taste. Her dark-skinned complexion, well-toned body and full, glossy lips give her the appearance of an African beauty.
Latish slowly removes my shirt and continues to kiss my body passionately. She gradually makes her way down to my crotch area, and she gets down on her knees and begins undoing the zipper to my jeans. I watch her reach into my pants and pull out my dick.
“Ooh, baby, dat’s what I’m talkin’ about,” she purrs while smiling up at me. She gently strokes my hard-on, teasing me.
She kisses around the tip of my dick, and then she slowly places it on her tongue. I let out a slight moan.
“Stop teasing me and suck my dick already,” I say impatiently.
Latish continues to smile, gripping my erection in her hand. The bitch can be such a tease with the dick until it gets to a point where you become annoyed. But once she puts your dick in her mouth, it’s a wrap. She can suck a dick so long and strong that she can make a niggah’s forehead cave in.
“I thought you liked being teased, baby,” she says stroking my shaft tenderly in her soft grip.
“I do, but damn, you know how you do, baby.” She lets out a slight laugh. And then she leans forward and devours my dick, causing me to gasp and clench her shoulders. I look down at the top of her head and watch her bob back and forth, her strong jaw going to work on my shit.
“Aaaaaahhh…damn…oooh, Latish…shit,” I cry out. My jeans are down around my ankles as I stand in the center of her living room, getting my blowjob on. Not once does Shana come to mind. “Yo, I need to sit down,” I tell her, feeling my knees buckling.
I carefully back-step toward the couch, my jeans still around my ankles with Latish in tow—still on her knees and still holding my dick in her hand. I plop down on her couch and step out of my pants. Latish positions herself on her soft, leather couch and starts kissing my nipples. She slowly slides her way down to my stomach, back toward my shaft again. I grunt and throw my head back as I grip a handful of her smooth, black hair. Her exceptional blowjob goes on for at least twenty minutes, and I have to fight to keep from cumming in her mouth like I did the past few times. But Latish loves it when a niggah comes in her mouth; she becomes more aggressive, a fuckin’ freak.
Shortly after my blowjob, Latish stands up and comes out of her boy-shorts, but she keeps on her scanty T-shirt. Her pubic hair is cut very low and trimmed nicely. And her apple bottom ass makes a niggah want to fuck her in the butt—which, mind you, I’ve done many times before.
She walks back over to me, leans forward and starts to tongue kiss me wildly, while simultaneously jerking me off. Our lust for one another is intense. I pant loudly, feeling the need to explode inside her. “You ready for this pussy?” she whispers in my ear before nibbling at the lobe.
“I wanna fuck you!”