Page 24 of Big Booty

I laugh. “Boy, you wouldn’t know what to do with all of this right here.” I turn around and slap my ass, glancin’ at him over my shoulder. I see the lust buildin’ in his eyes. “If I sat all this ass up on your face you’d nut before you got your tongue in it.”

“I’ma grown-ass man, ma; real shit. I handles mine. Believe that.”

I step up in his face. Lick my lips. “That still doesn’t mean you can handle me.”

“Try me.”

“You like your dick sucked?”

“All day.”

I raise a brow. “Pull your dick out and let me see what you’re workin’ with then.” When he doesn’t budge, I roll my eyes. “I didn’t think so, lil’ niggah. You ain’t ready for none of this.”

Dickalina misses the pocket she called out. “Damn you, Cassie! You done made me miss my damn, shot fuckin’ with your crazy ass.”

The Hill Harper lookalike laughs. “Yo, ma. You wild.”

“And I’m thirsty, too. How ’bout you make ya’self useful and buy me another drink. Then come back and let me tell you how wild I am.”

He eyes me, suspiciously, then looks over at Buddha. “Yo, she’s your peeps?” he asks.

He nods. “No doubt. Miss Simms good people.”

“Aiight, ma. I got you, then. Whatchu drinkin’?”

“I was drinkin’ a Gut Twister. But now I think I want me a Blow Job. Yeah, that’s what I’ll have. And tell him I want it wet and sloppy.”

“Damn, it’s like that?”

“It would be if I were talkin’ about suckin’ your dick. But it’s not. That’s how I want my drink, niggah. Sloppy and wet; that’s no ice with an extra shot of Patrón.”

He smirks. “Oh, right-right.” I wait for him to walk off toward the bar, then turn to Buddha. “Where’s that niggah from?”

He raises his brow. “Who, AJ?” I suck my teeth, rollin’ my eyes. He chuckles. “Oh, he’s from Irvington. Why, you diggin’ him or sumthin’?”

“No. I’m diggin’ you, but you act like you all scared ’n shit. I know you ain’t scared of pussy, lil’ niggah. Anyway, that niggah seems real sneaky.”

He takes a sip of his Heineken. “Nah, he’s cool peeps. But, nah. I’m not scared, ma. And I’m def not scared of pussy. It’s just that, you know. Jah and me used to be mad cool. And you his Moms and all. I’m not beat for no beef, feel me?”

I nod, knowin’ly. Jah, well Jah’mel—my twenty-one-year-old son, would be ready to whoop his ass if he even thought I was lettin’ him hit this. But, shit. Who says he has to ever know?

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” I say as I lightly rake my nails along his forearm. I glance over at Dickalina as she pulls out her phone and starts textin’. I roll my eyes. “Besides Jah’s ass is still sittin’ in the county.”

“Oh, word? Damn. What he get popped for?”

“Child support and drivin’ with a suspended license; what else. You know my baby ain’t tryna do no real time. That boy loves pussy too much. He’d lose his damn mind if he had to do a state bid somewhere.”

He laughs. “Right-right.”

“Fuck!” Dickalina snaps, still textin’. “A bitch can’t even go out and have a few drinks without Knutz’s dumb-ass nuttin’ up ’n shit. I’m so sick of this motherfucka.”

I roll my eyes, iggin’ her dumbness, keepin’ my attention on Buddha. “Anyway, so what you got good on you? I want some get right tonight.”

He eyes me, puttin’ the bottle to his lips, then tossin’ his head back. I watch as his Adam’s apple moves and down his throat as he guzzles the rest of his beer down. He burps. “Oh, shit. I didn’t know you get on. But, nah, I don’t hold no weight on me, ma. What you want, though?”

“Niggah, I ain’t no fiend. I roll and smoke and get lifted, but you know I only do that with Darius and Jah’mel. So I’m not talkin’ about that.”

“Oh, damn. My bad, ma. Then what kinda get right you talkin’ about?”

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