Booty Call *69. Erick S Gray
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Jakim and I broke up. That was a while ago. Tyrone will understand; it’ll be just sex. He’ll get what he wants, and I’ll get what I want. I know he’ll do me right tonight; I’ve heard stories about him from my girls.
I go back to the bar and tell Tyrone that I want to leave with him tonight. He doesn’t even ask why. He gives his boys dap and leaves with me under his arm. Sasha glares at me as we walk past her, but I don’t give a fuck what she thinks. That bitch is no angel; she does her dirt, too.
A slow jam mix CD plays in Tyrone’s BMW, and his hand is deep between my thighs. He’s fingering my pussy, and it feels so good. I spread my legs apart even more so he can get a better feel. “You’re bugging, but I’m feeling you, boo,” he says smiling.
We’re heading to his crib for the night—not his mama’s, but his shit, which he shares with his roommate in Rochdale Village. I’ve been there once with Jakim. It’s real cool. It’s a two-bedroom, with the phat entertainment center. We stop at a red light and begin to kiss, tonguing each other down passionately. The light turns green and we pull off. I’m so horny, and my panties are so wet that I end up pulling them off and throwing them in the back seat. I think I’ll leave them there.
We’re at his crib fifteen minutes later. His roommate is still at the party, and he’s not coming home any time soon. We begin to do our thing. He pulls up my leather mini skirt and lays me down on the carpet. He begins eating me out. He spreads my legs wide apart and sticks his tongue deep inside me. I moan with pleasure. He lifts his head up for air after several minutes. I’m done with the oral action anyway; it’s time for us to move on to the next stage. I want to fuck him. I get naked, and he gets to his feet and does the same. He has eight inches to play with, a chest like Tyson, the model, and a washboard stomach. I push him down to the floor, mount him and start riding that dick. I’m definitely feeling him up inside me; he’s so big and hard. It feels as though his cock is reaching into my stomach. He palms my ass with a tight grip, and he thrusts himself into me harder and harder, absorbing my juices and fulfilling my needs. He then turns me over to lie down on my stomach. He rams his rod into me from the back. I want to bite down on my tongue; he’s banging me so fast and so hard, and it feels so good. I claw the carpet and begin to pant. He speaks not one word as he fucks me vigorously. Position after position, the dick is feeling too good; it puts me in tears. This muthafucka, Tyrone, has strength, stamina and endurance. Thank God for him.
We feel no regret after we’re done. I needed exactly what he just gave me. My pussy has definitely been scratched. I get up and begin to get dressed. I zip up my skirt as he buckles his jeans, but we don’t leave right away; Tyrone has other treats in store. He goes to his bedroom and comes back out with a phat blunt—some bomb Haze. We smoke and talk as we continue to get high and fondle each other. I am definitely feeling this niggah’s groove.
Tyrone drops me off at my front door a few hours later. He kisses me goodnight. “Whenever you need that favor again, you know who to call,” he says.
I nod my head, get out of the car and walk to my front door. I turn around and watch him drive off the block when I finally begin to feel guilty. Damn, Jakim would trip right now if he knew his man kissed me goodnight and dropped me off at my door. My eyes dart about nervously, looking to see if his car is parked anywhere on the block. Luckily for me, it’s not. I’m in the clear—not that it really makes a difference; we’re not together anymore , I try to convince myself.
I go inside and see my aunt all over some man on the living room couch. His pants are down, and her blouse is fully open. She smiles at me and asks if I had a good night. I smile back and tell her that my night was too good to me. She feels where I’m coming from and continues doing her thing with her male company. The one thing about us females in this house is that we aren’t humble or shy when it comes to getting our freak on in front of each other. I remember the time I came home early from school and caught my moms ass naked on the floor, with some red-bone niggah in between her knees. It didn’t take a miracle to know or see what was going on. She looked up at me, grinned, asked why was I home from school so early and then went right back on with her business—not giving a fuck that I caught or interrupted them both. Shit, there were a few times when my mother caught me and Jakim doing our thing. She would always ask if I was using protection. That’s the only thing she was concerned about.
I get ready for bed, but I can’t stop thinking about Tyrone and it’s bugging me. I don’t know what it is—maybe just the good dick and get-high afterward…or maybe I’m catching feelings for the man. Shit, I hope not; that would cause problems. Yet and still, no matter how hard I try to stop thinking about him, he keeps creeping back into my head. I throw the sheets over myself and try to get a good night’s rest—without Jakim, Danny or Tyrone in my thoughts.
2
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 200th 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.