Читать книгу Booty Call *69 - Erick S. Gray - Страница 7

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JAKIM

“Yo, Ja, you shoulda came through last night,” Evay tells me. “There were mad bitches at that club.”

“Word?” I respond nonchalantly. I’m hearing Evay talk, but I’m really not listening. My mind is preoccupied with something else.

“Yeah, Jakim…it was me, Tyrone, Lovell and Rocky. I bagged like two numbers last night.”

We’re chilling on the corner of Hollis Avenue and 200^th Street, gulping down forties and passing the evening away by getting drunk and watching the ladies stroll by. I’m leaned up against my Maxima with a forty clutched in my hand. Evay continues to talk, and he informs me about his dynamic night at this new club on Merrick Boulevard.

“Yo, I’m gonna try and fuck this bitch I met last night by next week, son—watch, Ja.”

I take another swig from the forty and pass it to Evay. He downs a mouthful. Evay’s a hefty fuck and not too easy on the eyes, but he’s mad cool. He talks a lot, but that’s Evay, always in your ear about this and that, and sometimes even other people’s business. He doesn’t mean any harm, though. He stays trying to be a playa or a pimp, but most times with no success. Some girls have given him a little play, but Evay gets as much action as the Knicks have championship rings.

“Ay, yo, Shana was there, too.”

Now that catches my attention. “What? She was?” I ask.

“Yeah, Ja—and she was lookin’ good, too.”

“Who she came with?”

“She came wit’ her girls—Sasha, Naja and that ho, Latish. Damn, I wanna fuck dat bitch. Yo, Ja, she got a man?”

I ignore his lustful inquiry about Latish and ask more questions about Shana. “Yo, did she dance wit’ anyone?”

“She kept mostly to herself, but she did dance with Tyrone.”

“Oh, word?”

I can’t help but get a bit jealous, thinking about Shana going out and grinding on the next niggah. And even worse, taking it a step further and fuckin’ da next niggah. I still have strong feelings for her, but she’s acting like a bitch about us getting back together again.

“Evay, who she leave with?” I ask.

Evay is quiet now. He stares off in the distance, and I know it’s bad whenever the niggah hesitates to give me an answer; so I answer for him: “She left wit’ some other niggah last night, right?”

“Nah, man—she was just doin’ her,” he explains. But I know Evay’s hiding something from me. He passes the forty back to me, and I quickly down it until it’s empty.

I’m beginning to feel even more jealous, entertaining thoughts about Shana fuckin’ some other niggah last night. I was the only man in her life for more than two years. Shana fuckin’ other niggahs is a hard possibility to swallow. She’s still my prize, and that pussy is so hard to give up. I try to contain my emotions in front of Evay, but inside I’m truly hurting from our break-up.

“Ja, you okay?” Evay asks.

“Yeah, I’m aiight,” I lie, becoming aloof as I stare off into space thinking about Shana.

“Yo, don’t stress dat shit, Ja. I’m sure Shana ain’t fuckin’ other niggahs.”

“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 179^th 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!” I say with intensity.

“Take it, Jakim!” She presses her body against mine and starts to mount me.

“Shit!” I shout.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“I forgot da condoms in the car.”

“Oh, word? Don’t worry about dat, baby. I wanna feel dat dick raw in me anyway.”

“Yeah, but—”

“C’mon, baby, touch me. Feel how wet I am for you,” she says, taking my hand and placing it between her bare thighs. I feel her sweet juices flowing onto my hand. She’s definitely wet. I stick my index finger deep into her pulsating pussy. I begin finger-popping her gently, and she begins to moan. This action goes on for about a minute until I can’t take it anymore. I remove my finger from inside her and grip my hard dick in my hand. Latish slowly moves her lower half onto my erection, straddling me on the couch. H-Town’s Knockin’ Da Boots plays faintly in the background. I grip her hips as she rocks back and forth against my lap. She throws her arms around me and cries out in ecstasy.

Sweat profusely escapes from our pores as we touch, rub, grind and fuck the shit out of each other. We assume position after position, from missionary to straight up doggystyle until we just can’t fuck anymore. We lay motionless on her living room floor. My body feels numb and exhausted. But this was worth it. I’ve definitely released some stress with Latish tonight. I breathe heavily and stare up at the ceiling, lying nude with her next to me. “You okay, baby?” she asks, her hand gently moving up and down my chest, tickling me a little.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I reply. We continue to lie around her apartment until she gets up to use the bathroom. I watch that ass jiggle as she sashays down the hallway. I’m feeling a little excitement down below again. But enough is enough; she’s about to kill a niggah with all the fuckin’ we’re doing.

I look at the time. It’s twenty minutes past nine, time for me to go. I get up off the floor and pick up my clothing, which is scattered all around the room. I start to get dressed. Latish, still naked, comes out of the bathroom. “You leaving me already?”

“Yeah, I got things to do,” I say.

“I want you to spend the night with me.”

“Next time, love.”

She sucks her teeth, plops her naked ass on the couch and crosses her legs. “You seen the remote?”

“Nah. You ain’t gonna get dressed?”

“For what? It’s my crib. Niggah, I walk around naked all day,” she informs me. I shrug my shoulders and throw on my Timberlands. After putting on my last piece of clothing, I glance over at Latish. She’s still lounging naked on her couch, now channel- surfing with the remote.

“Yo, I’m out,” I tell her.

“When I’m gonna see you again?” she asks.

“Whenever—you got my number.” She sucks her teeth again and follows me to the door. “You ain’t gonna throw a robe on at least?” I add.

“For what, Jakim? My body is my treasure. I go outside like this all the time. And most of my neighbors are niggahs; they ain’t complaining.”

I laugh. “You be buggin.”

“Whatever, niggah. I wanna see you again.”

We stand outside in her doorway under a canopy of stars, with Latish still in her birthday suit. She throws her arms around me and gives me a passionate kiss. I grip her firm apple bottom and squeeze it like I’m squeezing the juice from a piece of fruit. It’s hard to let her go; being up against her makes me want to set it off again, but it’s getting late and I have to go. I strut back to my car a very happy and sexually satisfied man.

I get in my car, turn the ignition and let my Maxima idle in front of Latish’s crib for a few moments. It’s funny; no sooner than Latish is out of my sight, thoughts of Shana creep back into my mind. After all of that freaky, bumping and grinding, hot, sweaty sex with Latish, I want to give Shana a call. I know I have to beat the infatuation I have for my ex-girlfriend, but it’s hard. I want to give her a booty call, too, but I know it’s not happening any time soon. I want to win back her love and affection, but she’s being stubborn and putting a brick wall between us.

I pull off and decide not to call Shana. I’ll call Tyrone or Evay instead and see what’s up for tonight; when I’m alone, my failed relationship with Shana be fuckin’ wit’ me. But when I’m amongst company, I’m good.

During my drive home, I break down and call Shana anyway. Her aunt picks up.

“Hello, is Shana there?”

“No, sweetie, she’s not,” her aunt replies. “Who’s calling?”

“It’s Jakim.”

“Hey, hon, I haven’t seen you around in a while. You okay, baby?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Can you tell Shana that I called?”

“No problem, sweetie.”

Now, I should just hang up and let it be, but my curiosity gets the best of me and I ask, “By the way, do you know where she might have gone?”

“She went out on a date wit’ some niggah.”

I’m speechless. The only thing I can say is, “Oh, aiight…just tell her I called.” I hang up, feeling my heart in my stomach as envy and resentment spread throughout my body. Why did I ask, when I didn’t want to know the answer? I say to myself.

Now frustrated, I decide not to hang out with Tyrone and Evay. I do a quick U-turn and make a beeline back to Latish’s place. Fuck it. Shana wanna be out all night, fuckin’ this niggah and that niggah, then I’m gonna be doing me with no regrets. I keep telling the bitch I’ve changed, but she’s not trying to hear what I have to say. I know I fucked up when I cheated on her. But she can’t let bygones be bygones, and now she’s on some ho shit—I assume. I want her to give us a second chance, but the dumb bitch won’t let my mistake be water under the bridge.