Daddy Long Stroke полностью

“Oh, aiight. That’s wassup. Good lookin’ out, baby.” Eight seconds later, the text comes through wit’ all the flight info. She got me leavin’ out next Wednesday on Delta. What the fuck? I don’t fly no muthafukin’ Delta! All my frequent flier miles are wit’ Continental. I look at the text again, then frown. “Ya text came through. But, uh, where’s the return info?”

“Oh, I got you a one-way ticket.”

No shit, bitch! I take a deep breath, shakin’ my head. “Why?”

“I thought you were gonna stay for a while so you can check out the jobs here. Whenever you’re ready to go back, I’ll just book you a return flight.”

What a dumb ass. “Oh, aiight. And you still gonna hook a nigga up wit’ some wheels while I’m out there, right?”

“It’s all taken care of.”

I smirk. “That’s wassup.”

“I told you I was gonna take care of everything.”

“True that. Good lookin’ out, babe. I hope you know how much this means to me.”

She giggles, then whispers. “I can’t wait for you to get here, so you can show me just how much gratitude and appreciation you have. I got something real tight waiting for you.”

“Is it wet?”

“Yep. And real slippery.”

I lower my voice. “Stop that, baby. You makin’ my dick hard.”

“Oooooh, squeeze it for me.”

I roll my eyes up in my head. “I’ma let you squeeze it when I see you, aiight?”

She giggles again. “That’s even better.”

For some reason, imaginin’ Vita bent over a tool bench wit’ her pudgy-lil’ feet stuffed in a pair of red stilettos, while poppin’ her puffy ass wit’ a wooden paddle, makes my dick pulse. “What kinda panties you got on?” I ask her, pullin’ my dick outta the slit of my boxers.

She whispers into the phone, “Pink lace.”

“Thong, g-string, French-cut; what type?”

“Thong,” she says.

“Oh, aiight. That’s wassup. Listen, baby, you got a muhfucka wantin’ to nut, so I’ma bounce so I can pop one off, aiight?”

“Mmmm, I wish I was there to watch.”

“Yeah, me too, so you could lick all ’round these big-ass balls for me.”

“Mmmm, daddy. I…can…not…wait to see you.”

I shake my head. “Look, boo, I done warned you ’bout gettin’ too caught up in a muhfucka like me; just let shit flow.”

“I know, I know. But, still…I miss you. And my pussy misses you even more.”

It’s obvious she’s the type who has to learn the hard way. I shake my head. So I guess it’ll be my fault when this ho falls outta her cuckoo’s nest, and starts losin’ it, right? Yeah, whatever!

“Damn, I wanna get up between them legs and slow fuck the shit outta you.”

She moans into the phone. “You make me so horny when you talk like that. Shoot, I gotta go, though, ’cause I’m still at work.” She sucks her teeth.

“Oh, aiight. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

“You, too, big daddy.”

“Hit me up later, aiight, baby?”

“Are you gonna pick up? Seems like whenever I call you, you don’t answer my calls.”

Maybe, I think to tell her. But I say, “No doubt,” instead.

The minute we disconnect, I hit Kanika up. She doesn’t answer, but I leave her a message lettin’ her know when I’ma be in town.

I want my dick wet, I think, scrollin’ through my address book. I decide to hit up Shalonda—this lil’ brown-skinned shortie I fuck wit’ e’ery now and then over in Bloomfield. We met last summer on a chatline. The bitch is broke, but she sucks a mean dick. And she swallows. So that’s basically all she’s good for. She answers on the third ring.

“Hey, stranger, long time, no hear.”

“What’s good, baby?”

“You,” she tells me.

“That’s wassup.” I pause, decidin’ to get straight to the point. “Yo, you still suckin’ dick?”

“Yeah, why?”

I suck my teeth. “’Cause I want my dick sucked, you stupid bitch!” I hear myself sayin’ in my head. Instead I say, “You should come through and hit me wit’ some of that bomb-ass lip service.”

“We fuckin’?”

“Nah, baby, I just want my dick sucked, feel me? No convo. No fuckin’. Just suck and muthafuckin’ go. So, you wit’ it or what?”

She sighs. “If I’m comin’ out, I wanna ride down on some dick.”

“Look, I told you I ain’t checkin’ for no pussy right now; just some slow, sloppy, wet dick suckin’.”

“Damn, that’s real fucked up. You comin’ at me like I’m some real live dick washer.”

Stupid bitch, you are! “Yo, it is what it is. I’m keepin’ shit real wit’ you. You either suckin’ this dick, or you not. What’s it gonna be? ’Cause I ain’t ’bout to be on this phone all day goin’ back ’n forth wit’ you.”

“I’m not,” she says.

“Then that’s what it is. I’m out.” Click. I bang on her retarded ass, then call Keisha. She picks up all eager ’n shit on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“What’s good, baby?”

“You.”

“Oh, word? It’s like that?”

“You already know,” she says. I can tell the ho is smilin’ from ear to ear. Another call is comin’ through. I peep the number. It’s Sholanda’s dumb-ass callin’ back. I guess her trick ass has a change of heart and is ready to get her throat stretched. I ignore the bitch and keep on talkin’.

“That’s wassup. You feel like swabbin’ some dick?”