by Cairo
“Real shit, Miss Simms, I ain’t tryna get hemmed up on no bullshit rape charge. And you know that’s what that is.”
I tilt my head, ploppin’ both hands up on my hip. “Niggah, don’t do it. You know one of my baby fahvers is a police officer, right?”
“Nah, I ain’t know.”
“Well, now you do. And you already know how I do mine. I shuts it down, so don’t do it, boo. And I have no problem sendin’ ya black ass to jail so some big-burly niggah can run a shank in you and gut ya asshole out. Now try me. And ain’t LuAnn your mother?”
“Yeah.”
“I know she is. And you remember when I snatched her wig off and dragged her knotty-headed ass up and down the playground in back of buildin’ eight, don’t you?”
He removes his fitted. “Miss Simms, I don’t want no problems wit’ you.”
“Oh, I know you don’t. That’s why we’re gonna handle this like two adults. Now, answer my question. How many inches is that dick?”
He shrugs. Tells me he’s never measured it. But knows it’s big. That he can only fit extra-large condoms. My pussy lips pucker. “And you wanted to come up in here and try to rip my daughter’s pussy open with it, didn’t you?”
“Nah, real shit, Miss Simms. I ain’t tryna toss shit up on Asia, but she’s mad wild out there; especially when she’s wit’ that chick CandyLee.”
“CandyLee? Who the fuck is a CandyLee?”
“Candyilicious. But she’s CandyLee in the streets.”
I roll my eyes up in my head. “Well, what does she have to do with you tryna fuck Day’Asia, niggah?”
“No lie. When the two of them together they are hot like firecrackers. And like I said, Asia told me she was eighteen. I’da never got at her if I knew she was only sixteen. But she was talkin’ like she was mad ready for the getdown. But I ain’t know. On e’ery-thing, Miss Simms. I only eff wit’ chicks my age or older.”
“Is that so? And who are you again?”
“Bunz . . . I mean Benjamin.”
I frown. “Benjamin, mmph. Who the fuck gave you that old-ass name?” I put a hand up, stoppin’ him from openin’ his mouth. “Never mind. I already know crack snatched ya momma’s ass. So I’m not gonna say nothin’ bad about ya bald-headed mammy. So, let it go.” He blinks. I tilt my head. “What? Did I say somethin’ to offend you?”
He bites his bottom lip. “Nah, I’m good.”
“Mmmph. I bet you are. And why the hell they call you Buns, any-damn-way?”
“It’s Bunz wit’ a zee.”
“Whatever, niggah. Why they call you that?”
He rubs his chin. “Well, uh, ’cause . . . when I was younger I used to always grab on girls’ with them big booties and wanna hump on ’em.”
I smirk. “Oh, so you an ass man, uh, lil’niggah?”
He nervously laughs, shiftin’ his weight from one foot to the other. “Sumthin’ like that.”
“Well, what the fuck was you tryna stick ya dick up in Day’Asia’s ass for when all she got is big-ass titties? The ass you shoulda been tryna fuck is”—I turn around, glancin’ over my shoulder, then smackin’ my ass—“this one right here. Now if you want me to drop this rape shit, then you drop ya goddamn drawers and come do me right.”
His eyes pop open.
“I ain’t playin’, niggah. You wanna fuck lil’ girls ’n shit. Well, let me show ya black ass how’ta be a man and fuck a woman. Now drop. Them. Drawers.”
He looks at me, tryna figure out if I’m serious. “M-M-Miss Simms, word is bond. I can’t do you like that. I mean, damn . . . whew. Are you serious?”
I walk up on him, take his right hand and shove it between my legs. “Feel that heat?”
He pulls in his bottom lip, noddin’ his head. “Yeah.”
“Then you should know I’m not playin’.” I grab the front of his jeans and grab his dick. It’s already hard . . . brick hard. “Oooh, looks like somebody’s ready to fuck.”
“Damn, M-Miss Simms. Yo, this ain’t right.”
“No, lil’niggah. What’s not right is you tryna fuck a lil’ sixteen-year-old girl’s pussy to shreds.” I stare him in his crooked eyes, but quickly shift my gaze. Lookin’ in them starts to make me dizzy.
Oooh, I’ma have to fuck this niggah with my eyes closed, or let him hit it from the back. Ain’t no way I can look him in his crooked eyes tryna get my nut off.
“This is what I want from you, Bunz with a zee.” His dick has stretched down the right side of his leg. “I want you to fuck me with this big dick.”
His leg shakes. “Damn.”
“No. Not ‘damn.’ Yes.”
“Mmm, shit. Yes . . . ”
“You like that, lil’ niggah?”
“Hellz yeah. But, damn. Yo, I can’t.”
“Oh, yes you can. And you will. What, you scared? You ain’t ready to handle no real pussy, are you?”
I flick my tongue over his lips, take his hands and place them up on my titties. I tell him to squeeze ’em, pinch ’em.
I unzip his jeans, then slide my hand in, strokin’ his thick dick over his boxers. “You tried to fuck the wrong lil’ ho, Bunz with a zee. And now,” I squeeze his dick, “you gotta pay, niggah. Big Booty gonna stretch her pussy all over this dick, then fuck the shit outta you.”
He moans. “Damn. Shit. Real shit, I ain’t know.”
I place a finger to his lips. “Sssh . . . I know you didn’t, lil’niggah. That’s why I’ma fuck you real good instead of havin’ you fucked up. You wanna feel ya dick in my pussy?”
I speed stroke his Mandingaling. “Hellz yeah. Oh, shit. Mmmmph . . . ” I remove my hand from outta his jeans, then grab him by the belt and pull him down the hall toward my bedroom. As soon as we’re in my room, I shut the door, walk over to my stereo and slip in my Big Booty “Fuck Me Down” mix CD, then turn to face him. I’m gonna fuck his young ass to one of the instrumental CDs I had Slick hook me up with. I snatch open my flyaway, then let it slide off my shoulders.
Wiz Khalifa’s “On My Level” starts playin’ low.
His eyes buck. “Oh, shit . . . ”
“You like what you see?” I cup my titties, lift ’em up to my lips, then flick my tongue over ’em. He starts grabbin’ at his hard dick. Tells me he digs what he sees. Of course the niggah does. They all do.
“I hope you ate ya Wheaties, lil’ niggah, ’cause it’s gonna be a long mornin’ for your black ass. Take off everything except them drawers.”
It doesn’t take long for his horny ass to kick off his sneakers, strip off his Polo shirt and unbuckle his belt. The big double-G’s on his buckle hit the floor with a thump when he drops his jeans. I watch as he steps his feet outta ’em, standin’ in the middle of my bedroom in a pair of white Ralph Lauren boxer briefs; the head of his long black dick hangin’ outta the edge of ’em. I lick my lips, eyein’ the sticky drop of precum leakin’ from his piss slit.
My cunt flutters.
I tell him to sit on the bed as soon as Dr. Dre’s “Kush” comes through the speakers. I bounce and shake my ass, then catwalk it over to his cross-eyed ass. “I’ma ’bout to uncross ya eyes, niggah. Give it to you real good.” I get up on him, quickly spin around, then bend over and toss my ass all up in his face, grabbin’ my ankles. My ass shakes and bounces to the beat. I pop each cheek one at a time, then reach back and pull ’em open.
“Lick my pussy, niggah.”
He does what he’s told, slidin’ his tongue into the back of my pussy, gently at first. then he slides it in again, faster, in and out. I moan, bouncin’ my ass and windin’ my pussy all over his lips, nose, and chin while grabbin’ at his tongue. Oooh yes . . . the pleasure of his licks, his tongue, vibrates through me. I moan. He moans. He is lovin’ the taste of my pussy. And I am lovin’ him tastin’ it. I reach back and grab his dick, then strokin’ it over his boxers. He grunts. His dick is so hard it can cut through diamonds. I run my fingertips over the head of his dick, smearin’ his sweet ’n sticky, then slip m
y fingers into my mouth. Mmmm, yummy!
Cockeye groans. I tell him to slap my ass. He does. Tell him to slap it again. He does. I wind my hips. Let the niggah know, Big Booty’s ready for his tongue in my other hole, the sweet chocolate hole that melts in a niggah’s mouth and all over his dick. He licks and laps around it, gettin’ it wet ’n ready. I grin when he tells me my ass tastes like candy. I slide my right hand between my legs and give my pussy a three-finger fuck while usin’ my left hand to stroke my clit. I don’t tell him I’m gettin’ ready to shoot him some candy-rain ’til my pussy skeets in his face.
I turn around and stare at him. Pussy cream glazes his nose, his lips, his chin. I lean forward and lick it all up, peel outta my sticky thong, then push him back on the bed and sit on his lap. I take my naked pussy and rub it up and down his long dingdong through his boxers. Wiggle my ass back and forth, then reach back and part my asscheeks, slidin’ his Mandingaling between them. My pussy’s so wet. It soaks the front of his boxers.
Chris Brown’s “Wet the Bed” starts playin’ and I grind my pussy slow ’n nasty along his hard dick.
He grabs my titties and starts squeezin’ ’em. “Aaah, shit . . . damn, ma . . . mmm . . . why you teasin’ me?”
I lift up, turn to face him, then drop down on my knees and tug at his wet boxers coated with my pussy juice and stained with his precum. He lifts his hips and I yank them down, takin’ him deep into my mouth. Each time I let his Mandingaling hit the back of my wet throat, he groans. I gulp him down good. Suck his dick until he’s singin’ out, “Ohfuckohfuckohfuck . . . shitshitshitshit . . . I’m gettin’ ready to nut . . . uh, uh, uh, uh . . . ”
I moan. “Oooh yes, lil’niggah. Give momma that sweet, creamy dingaling juice.”
“Uh, uh, uh . . . ”
I quickly place my mouth back over the head of his dick and fiercely suck him until I am garglin’ back his hot nut. When I’m done, I lick my lips. He’s lookin’ at me dazed.
By the time I’m finished with this niggah I’ma have him pussy-whipped, ass-whipped and throat-whipped. I snap my fingers in his face. “Niggah, you ain’t even get this pussy yet and you already outta it. You better get ready to reup ’cause this party’s just gettin’ started. And you ain’t leavin’ up outta here until you do me right goddammit!”
It only takes five minutes or so before his dingaling is stretched out ’n bouncin’ for action. I tell his ass to lie back on the bed, then roll a condom down on his dick. I straddle him, then lean forward and softly suck on his nipples. He closes his eyes. And I’m glad ’cause his cock-eyed ass makes me dizzy lookin’ in ’em. I kiss him as I reach back and guide his horse cock to the back of my pussy. I work it between my wet cunt lips until the head finds my wet hole. I sit down on it, then slowly work his dingaling into me. Mmmmm . . . he feels soooo good. Once I have it all in me, I start gallopin’ up and down on it, real fast ’n nasty, slurpin’ him in, buryin’ him deep. Titties bouncin’, ass clappin’, I Kentucky Derby his ass down into the mattress. Giddy-up on his dingdong ’til I got the niggah’s eyes rollin’ back in his head. “Oooh, this big-ass dick . . . tryna fuck my goddamn daughter . . . not on my watch, niggah . . . ooh, yes . . . you fuckin’ her momma’s pussy now, niggah-bitch . . . this is how grown women ride a dick . . . ”
“Aaaah, shiiit, yo . . . pussy’s so wet . . . ”
“Uh-huh . . . you like this juicy pussy don’t you lil’ niggah?”
He grunts and groans. “Yesss . . . oooh, shit . . . ”
I pound my pussy down on his dingdong. “Cock-eyed bastard, you still wanna fuck Day’Asia?” I reach under me and squeeze his balls, sloshin’ my pussy juice all over his cock. “Big ass dick . . . uhh . . . you like stretchin’ out lil’ sixteen-year-old pussy, niggah?”
“Aah . . . uh, uh, uh . . . ohfuckohfuckohfuck . . . hellz no . . . fuck . . . ”
“You see Day’Asia, niggah . . . you better run . . . mmm . . . ya black . . . oooh . . . ass . . . aaah . . . the . . . mmm . . . other way.” I lift up on his dick, ride the tip of his dingaling fast ’n real nasty, swirlin’ my wet pussy all around it. “Ooh . . . you ever . . . try to put . . . mmm . . . this big dick . . . up . . . mmm . . . in her . . . aah . . . again . . . I’ma have . . . oh, yes . . . ya goddamn . . . uh . . . meat . . . sliced off . . . down to the gristle . . . mmm . . . now do me right goddammit, so I can toss you the fuck out!”
Twenty-Eight
Seven o’clock Saturday morning, I am up, showered, dressed and ready to get Day’Asia’s cock-suckin’ ass down to the clinic before all them damn niggahs pile up in there. “Day’Asia, get up, boo, so we can get down to the clinic,” I say all nice ’n sweet. Her head is under the covers. She doesn’t budge.
“C’mon, Asia, get ya ass. You know it’s a mess down there on the weekends. And I’m not in the mood to have to curse one of those ghetto bitches out this morning. So, let’s get a move on it.” She still ain’t movin’. “Day’Asia!” I yell, smackin’ her upside the head and yankin’ the covers off her. “Don’t lay there like you don’t hear me. Wake ya ass up!”
She groans, poppin’ her head up. “What?”
“Girl, don’t what me. I said get up.”
“Why? It’s Saturday. I’m tired.”
“Wrong answer. You wouldn’t be tired if you didn’t have ya ass up on Skype all goddamn night. Now get up and let’s hit this clinic since your ass likes to fuck. So get up so we can go handle your situation.”
She snaps her neck in my direction. Stares at me and frowns. “I’m not pregnant.”
“Well, I’m glad you don’t think so. That saves you from gettin’ a beatdown.” I toss the EPT test at her. “Now get up and piss on the stick.”
She sits up in bed, foldin’ her arms. “Ohmygod, Ma, I don’t need that. I told you, I’m not pregnant.”
I walk over and shut her door. I don’t need Elijah’s nosey-ass creepin’ around tryna get his eavesdrop since he’s the only one up in the damn house. I stand in the middle of her nasty-ass bedroom with my hand up on my hip. “And I told you, you better hope you’re not. ’Cause if you are, boo-boo, I’m goin’ to jail and you’re goin’ up outta here on a stretcher ’cause I will beat it out of you.”
She sucks her teeth. “Dang, Ma, you always talkin’ crazy. You never trust me.”
“Oh, see. Now I understand why you like to test me. You didn’t read the memo, did you, sugah? I talk crazy because I am crazy. So Day’Asia, please don’t try me this mornin’. Get your ass up.”
“Ma, I’m not havin’ sex like that.”
I take a deep breath. “Listen, bit . . . ” I stop myself from callin’ her a bitch. I’m tryna keep it light this mornin’, but this lil’ heifer is really ’bout to take me there. “Day’Asia, I’m not gonna do a lot of back and forth with you. I don’t know how much sex you’re havin’. But I know your sneaky ass just had some long-dick niggah up in here the other night tryna get ya back blown out, so don’t give me this bullshit about you ain’t fuckin’ like that. ’Cause I done heard you and Candy’s whore-asses are real live campfires, lettin’ niggahs roast their dingalings all up in you, so all that shit you talkin’ about never trustin’ you means nothin’ to me.”
She huffs. “I’m not even a big ho like that.”
“Well, if you kept your legs shut, your ass wouldn’t be any kinda ho. But since you spreadin’ them high and wide, lettin’ any ole type of niggah slam his cock up in you, then we need to get your ass down to the clinic. I can’t trust you. Ho or not, I won’t stand for you fuckin’ any niggahs in here. You wanna fuck. You fuck out in the woods, or go to his place. And you better have ya ass back here before curfew.”
“Ma, for real. I’m not havin’ sex like that. I’m not a ho.”
I sit on the edge of her bed. “Let me tell you somethin’, Asia. If you’re not fuckin’ like that, then good for you. But, you’re sure on your way to becomin’ a ho whether you wanna be one or not. I can’t stop you from bein’ one, either. It’
s your body, do with it what you want. If you wanna fuck the whole damn projects, do you. But I’ma tell you this. You won’t be bringin’ no motherfuckin’ babies up in here. And if your hot ass gets AIDS you not stayin’ up in here, either. You like dick, don’t you?”
“Ohmygod, Ma. I can’t believe you’re sayin’ all this stuff.”
“Girl, don’t sit here and try ’n act all shy and shit. I know you’re a hot-ass. I gave birth to you, boo. So I know you keepin’ them drawers creamy. But know this, we’re the only two with pussies up in this house and I need to make sure yours ain’t gettin’ more dick than mine. And how the hell you gonna be fuckin’ and not rinse your pussy out, huh? Your pussy stinks, Day’Asia. You’re sixteen damn years old. Your pussy should not be smellin’ like a goddamn fish market. Now get yo’ ass up so you can go get ya insides checked. Is ya pussy leakin’?”
She gives me a confused look.
“Do you have a discharge?” She shakes her head no. I tell her to take them drawers off and let me see. Now the ho looks at me like I’m crazy. And I feel like punchin’ her in her throat. I get to cursin’ her out ’til she peels them drawers off. I’m sick! Her drawers are all stained up. “What the fuck?! I have a whole goddamn box of pantyliners in my bathroom closet; why the fuck ain’t you usin’ them like I told you to?”
She shrugs. Tells me she keeps forgettin’. And I slap her damn face. “Get yo’ black ass up and get in that shower and scour out ya goddamn stankin’-ass pussy for I beat the rot outta you. You think I want some-motherfuckin’-body talkin’ shit about ya goddamn pussy stinkin’, huh? Do you know how embarrasin’ that shit is? I feel like stompin’ the funk outta you. And how many niggahs you done let run up in you? And don’t lie.”
She shifts her eyes. She mumbles, “Like five.”
I blink. “See, you already lyin’. Now let’s try it again. How many?”
“Like six.”
“What do you mean, ‘like six?’ First it was five, now it’s six. Does that mean you’re not really sure if it was five or six or not?”
