Daddy Long Stroke полностью

“I don’t know. It all depends on whose dick it is. Why?”

Why the fuck these silly-ass hoes gotta play? “I’m tryna get this nut off, that’s why.”

She sucks her teeth, sighin’. “Well, you gonna have to come to me ’cause I don’t feel like driving.”

I smile. “I’m on my way.”

Twenty minutes later, I’m showered, dressed and headed toward the parkway. Foxy Brown’s old joint “Hot Spot” is pumpin’. I got the windows down, and my left arm draped outta the driver’s side, chillin’. It’s nice as fuck out, and a nigga’s pissed that I’m posted up in this muthafuckin’ hooptie, instead of flossin’ in my shiny whip. But it is what it is. Like I said before, I’ll be damned if I let another ho fuck my shit up again. I shake my head, thinkin’ ’bout Racquel’s smutty-ass smearin’ dog shit on my muthafuckin’ windows, talkin’ ’bout the dog shit was for bein’ such a lyin’, no-good dog. Go figure! What kinda bitch would scoop up animal shit and smear it on a muhfucka’s windshield? A craaaaazy-ass one would!

I’ll never forget the night that it happened. I was at this club in Newark chillin’ ’n flossin’ wit’ my boys and poppin’ mad shit to a buncha bitches. At three a.m. we comin’ outta the club, and as I get to the spot where my whip is parked, I see my muthafuckin’ shit is sittin’ kinda low. I’m like, “What the fuck?” I walk up on my shit, and all four tires are slaughtered. Somebody had flatbedded me! A muhfucka was heated. Muhfuckas were out there clownin’ me, word up. And I wasn’t diggin’ it. Then to add insult to injury, someone had smeared shit all over my windows. I was out there spazzin’ for real, tryna figure out who the fuck did me in. Then all of a sudden, a dark car slowly drove by and I spotted her. She yelled outta her window, “Hey, Alley Cat! I hope you like the smell of that dog shit, nigga, ’cause that’s just what the fuck you are; you black bastard!” She sped off, laughin’. Yo, you shoulda seen me. I started chasin’ the car like a madman, but the bitch ran a red light and left me in the dust. Man, listen…that night, if I’d had a brick, I woulda thrown it straight at her dome.

I sigh, shakin’ my head. Crazy-ass bitches! If they weren’t good for suckin’ dick and givin’ up the pussy, I wouldn’t fuck wit’ ’em. I’d beat my dick and keep it movin’. I pull up in front of Keisha’s spot and park. I text her, lettin’ her know I’m outside and to be on her knees ready to take this hard, horny dick in her mouth. She texts back: The doors already unlocked. I’ll be on my knees waitin’. Have ya dick out and I’ll take care of the rest. I grin, walkin’ up to her door, unfastenin’ my belt and unzippin’ my jeans.

Yeah, it’s broad daylight, and? If ya ass ain’t seen a muhfucka’s dick before, then I guess you ’bout to catch more than an eyeful. I open her door, holdin’ my dick in my hand, closin’ it behind me wit’ my foot. I smile. She’s on her knees blindfolded and naked wit’ her mouth wide open, ready and waitin’. I walk over to her, then slowly slide the head of my dick in between her wet dick suckas. I pump her skull ’til a thick cream coats her throat. Then I pull out and jack the rest of my nut all over her face, smearin’ the last few drops ’round her lips.

“Yo, baby girl, what’s poppin’ wit’ that threesome? Or were you just runnin’ ya dick sucka?” I ask as soon as Falani picks up. I get outta bed, stretchin’. I was ’posed to get at her weeks ago ’bout settin’ this ep up. She probably thought I forgot. I yawn, glancin’ over at the clock: 9:24 A.M.

I spark a blunt. Take two puffs, holdin’ the smoke in my lungs, then head to the bathroom to drain the snake.

“Well, damn. It’s taken you long enough to finally get back to me. But no, I wasn’t fronting. It’s a go. All you gotta do is get here. My girl was asking me the other day if I had heard from you. She’s definitely with it. After I told her about you, that’s all she’s been talking about.” I exhale. “We’re waiting on you.”

When I’m done pissin’, I wash my hands, starin’ at myself in the mirror. You’se a sexy, black muhfucka, I think, dryin’ my hands. “Oh, aiight. That’s what it is. What’s the chick’s name, again?” I walk back into the bedroom. I throw on a pair of sweats and a hoodie, then sit on the edge of the bed to slip on my Nikes.

“Lydia.”

I grab my car keys and head downstairs, walkin’ into the kitchen. “Oh, aiight. She look good?”

“Yeah, she’s decent-looking.” I frown. When a chick says another chick is only decent-lookin’, that means one of two things for me: She’s either fly as hell and bein’ hated on, or she’s related to a damn gorilla.

“Don’t have me layin’ up wit’ nobody lookin’ like Shrek, or some wildebeest ’n shit.”

She laughs. “She’s far from either, trust me.”

“Oh, aiight. Just makin’ sure. So when we makin’ it pop?”