When she finishes, we lay on top of the covers. I kiss her, stickin’ my tongue deep into her mouth. Then plant soft kisses on her forehead. No words are said between us. I hold her in my arms, allow her to rest her head on my chest, and wait for her to drift off to sleep before slippin’ outta bed and steppin’ out onto her terrace, takin’ in the view of Los Angeles. I try to wrap my mind ’round payin’ close to a million dollars to live up in this piece. Yeah, it’s a slick spot wit’ its bamboo wood floors and floor-to-ceilin’ windows and panaromic views of the mountains and all of downtown located in the South Park district. But, man, listen…eight-hundred thousand dollars for a two-bedroom, three-bath upscale apartment?
I think ’bout havin’ her slumped over the railin’, slidin’ this dick in and outta her. I grab my shit and stroke it. Get it slightly hard. Yeah, I’m out here nude, and? I’m on the thirty-first floor. So it is what it is. I try to imagine livin’ out here on the West Coast. Try to visualize bein’ thousands of miles away from Jersey and New York. Funny thing, I can’t. I dig L.A. wit’ all of its palm trees, glitz and beautiful weather, but it lacks the kinda fast-paced swagger I’m used to. Although I know I could bag a slew of hoes out here, a muhfucka like me would become bored and homesick real fast.
On the way here from the airport, Cherry was beatin’ me in the head ’bout movin’ out here, talkin’ ’bout she’d give me my space and let me parlay here at this spot, and she’d move back into her crib over in Santa Monica. All she wanted from me is this dick on-call. Yeah, it sounded all good—and if I was a weak-type cat, I’d probably take her up on it, but that shit would never work for a muhfucka like me. Livin’ in someone else’s shit and then haveta adhere to some kinda expectations and rules, nah… never that. And I’ll be damned if I ever give a ho the chance to put me out on the streets. So I told her, “Thanks, but no thanks, baby. I’ll fly in as needed.”
I go back in to take a shower, but peek in on Cherry and change my mind. Seein’ her lyin’ in her nakedness bricks my dick. I climb back in bed. Spoon behind her, kiss her on the back of her neck, on her shoulders. She stirs, opens her eyes and cranes her head to face me. “Mmmm,” she coos. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too, baby,” I say, rollin’ a condom on. I lift her leg, then slowly slide my dick back into her still wet pussy. I fuck her nice ’n slow. Torture her with unhurried strokes for forty-three minutes ’til we both nut, and fall off to sleep.
“C’mon, sleepyhead,” Cherry says, gently shakin’ me to get up. “Let’s go grab a bite to eat.” I stretch and yawn, lookin’ ’round the room. She’s hoverin’ over me wit’ her cell in her hand. She’s already showered and dressed in a white linen wrap dress that stops to her ankles and a pair of orange strappy heels. Of course, top-of-the-line shit. Still, I’m lookin’ at her like, “What the fuck?” But it dawns on me that I’m in southern California, so what she has on is what’s poppin’ for out here. And I can’t front, she’s lookin’ real sexy.
“Yo, what time is it?” I ask, grabbin’ and pullin’ at my dick, stretchin’ my legs out. She tells me it’s almost five-thirty. I let out a loud groan, lyin’ in bed a few more minutes before I finally sit up. Between the flight and fuckin’, I’m whipped. “Damn, that pussy knocked me the hell out.”
She laughs. “Yeah, and it had you snorin’, too.”
“Yeah, right,” I say, tossin’ a pillow at her. “Get the fuck outta here wit’ that.” She tosses the pillow back, badgerin’ me to get up ’cause we have dinner reservations for seven o’clock. Her cell rings, she glances at the screen, then answers.
“’Cuse me, I gotta take this call,” she says, walkin’ toward the door. “It’s one of my property managers.”
I glance at the clock on her nightstand. “Oh, fuck,” I say aloud, yawnin’. “I just wanna stay in fuckin’ bed.” I flop back on the pillows, pullin’ the sheets up over my head. I can’t front, this bed feels fuckin’ good. It feels like I’m lyin’ on a bed of cottonballs. And her one-thousand thread-count sheets feel good against my naked body. I yank the covers back and get outta bed before I end up fallin’ back to sleep. I walk into the bathroom, take a piss, then hop in the shower. When I finally walk into the livin’ room dressed in a pair of MEK jeans, a thin-fitted black knit pullover and a pair of black Prada loafers, Cherry is sittin’ on a stool patiently waitin’ on me. She smiles.
“You are one sexy chocolate man,’ she says, gettin’ up, grabbin’ her oversized pocketbook and keys. “And I can’t wait to get back here so I can finish fucking the shit outta you.”
I grin. “You ain’t said nuthin’ but a word. Hell, we can order in, and let it do what it do right now. It makes me no never mind, baby. I’m loaded wit’ nuts, and they all got ya name on ’em.”
