Big Booty

27

  At exactly nine o'clock, Cockeye rings my doorbell. But I make the niggah wait, peekin' through the curtains at his young, horny ass. I take him in, all of him in, startin' downward to his brown Gucci sneakers. Hmm, they gotta be size twelves, or thirteens.

Booty gotta thing for niggahs with them nice, big feet. Yes, lawd!

I lick my lips.

If this niggah got nice feet, I might suck them toes. Well, after I wash them down real good.

My eyes journey up to the way his designer jeans hang just so. Loose fittin', but still up on his waist. A brown and beige Gucci belt is holdin' them up. Unlike them ghetto bitches who think a niggah wearin' saggin' pants with his ass hangin' out is sexy, I think the shit is triflin'. His brown long-sleeved T-shirt has GUCCI scrawled over his chest. The niggah's thin, but from what I remember from last night, chiseled.

My eyes travel up to his side profile. Mmmph. This cocoa-brown niggahgot the nerve to be kinda sexy from the side. A brown and tan Yankees fitted is pulled down over his eyes. But I can tell his head is freshly lined 'cause the niggah's goatee and mustache are piped out nice 'n fresh. Oooh, let me find out this lil' niggah tryna impress me.

Flashes of him standin' butt-ass naked in Day'Asia's room last night pop into my head and I feel heat shoot through me. I was so goddamn mad and turned on after seein' all that dick that niggah has hangin' between his legs that I—after I beat the shit outta Day'Asia's fast ass—had to ride down on one of my dildoes to take the edge off. Mmmph. And the niggah-bitch was tryna fuck Day'Asia with all that cock meat. Not on my watch, goddammit!

Oh this niggah gonna learn today! And I'ma learn him good.

I finally swing the door open when he rings the bell, again. I step back and let him in, wearin' a white chiffon and sequin lace-front flyaway with matchin' thong and a pair of seven-inch platform heels. "Don't open your mouth to say shit."

He blinks, tryin' not to stare at my hard nippes pokin' through my "Fuck 'Em" wear.

I shut the door behind him, lock it, then slowly turn to face him as I place a hand up on my hip. "I'm glad you came through and didn't have me have t

o hunt you down."

"I-I-I . . . " He pauses, takin' a deep breath, then wipin' beads of sweat from his forehead with his hand. "Whew, it's gotten hot all of a sudden."

"That's the heat from my pussy, niggah. Now what you got for me?" I walk up to him, holdin' my hand out. "And relax. I'm not gonna fuckin' bite you. Well, maybe I will. But I'm not gonna kill ya ass."

He lets out a nervous chuckle, reachin' into the front pocket of his jeans and pullin' out a wad of rubberbanded money, then handin' it to me. I can tell the niggah's extra nervous. And he should be. "H-here you go."

He watches as I count out the money—seventeen-hundred dollars, in all hundreds. I stare him down, countin' in my head. Mmm, the four hundred and fifty I got from his ass last night and now this piece of change is gonna get stashed right into my emergency "handbags and heels" fund for those last-minute fashion emergencies. Still, I need a lil' somethin'-somethin' for now. "Niggah, I know you don't think this is gonna do me right after the shit you tried to pull up in here last night."

"M-M-Miss Simms, on e'erything, I swear on my moms I ain't know Asia was only sixteen. What I gave you is all I-I-I have on me r-r-right now. But how much more you want? I can hit you wit' about five stacks later on tonight when I make my rounds. No frontin'. I'll come through wit' it."