Free Kitty-Kitty, Bang-Bang by Cairo Page A

be comin’ at me all kinda ways. Mmmph. Fucked up thing, a bitch can’t even front like I ain’t diggin’ the shit ’cause I am. Still, he’s the type’a muhfucka a bitch gotta keep on a real short leash. Otherwise his ass’ll be shittin’ ’n pissin’ on me e’ery chance he gets. And I ain’t havin’ it. “I don’t know what kinda bitches you be dickin’ wit’, but I ain’t one of ’em. So come correct when you addressin’ me, muhfucka.”
    He laughs. “Yo, beautiful, I’m only fuckin’ wit’ you.”
    “Nigga, I ain’t laughin’. And I damn sure ain’t fuckin’ wit’ you . I’m dead-ass.”
    “Yo, ma, my bad.”
    “My bad, hell. You real extra wit’ it, nigga.”
    “Yo, for real, ma, you need to chill. It ain’t that serious. Onsome real shit, I mean no harm. But, I ain’t gonna front. You snappin’ makes a muhfucka horny. You got my shit bricked.”
    I suck my teeth. “What eva , muhfucka. Glad I can amuse ya nasty ass.”
    “Yeah, yeah, yeah; yo, keep it funky wit’ a nigga. You diggin’ me; just say it.”
    This time I laugh. “Nigga, puhleeeze. Save that shit for them dumb-ass bitches you got wettin’ ya cock. I’m not checkin’ for ya conceited ass.”
    “Yeah, aiight, that’s what ya mouth says. But I know better. I’ma have you callin’ me Daddy…Daddy Long Stroke, to be exact, in a minute.”
    I laugh harder. “Muhfucka, understand this: you’ll be eatin’ ya nut outta my pussy ’n ass ’n beggin’ me to finga fuck you in that tight, muscular ass of yours before I eva part these dick suckas to call you some shit like that.”
    He joins in my laughter. “Yo, Kat…word up, you funny as hell, ma. You know I’m only fuckin’ wit’ you, right?”
    “Yeah, yeah, yeah… whaaaat eva.”
    “But I’m sayin’, yo…when we gonna chill? This phone shit is gettin’ played. A muhfuckas tryna see you in the flesh. I was hopin’ we could meet up for a bite to eat, then maybe kick back ’n blaze a bit.”
    I grin at the idea of burnin’. It dawns on me I haven’t smoked since early last night. I glance at the time. Its 11:46 a.m. “Nigga, you ain’t ready for a chick like me,” I tease.
    “Yeah, okay, ma. Think that shit if you want. A nigga like me was born ready.”
    “Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” I say, headin’ downstairs to the kitchen. I decide to fix myself some sautéed spinach wit’ sundried tomatoes ’n garlic.
    “And it is what it is. All you gotta do is say the word and it’s on.”
    “Hmmmmm, that’s what ya mouth says. If you was really tryna get at me you woulda made it pop by now.”
    “Shiiiiit, how can I when you keep shuttin’ a muhfucka down at e’ery turn? A muhfucka comes at you right, you go left. I come at you from the left, you snap to the right. It’s like you want me to say ‘fuck it’ or sumthin’. Yo, is that what you want? I mean, on some real shit, if you want me to stop fuckn’ wit’ you I will.”
    The phone goes silent.
    I know this muhfucka didn’t just hang up on me. “Hello?”
    “I’m still here, yo. I’m waitin’ on an answer. You keep tryna play a muhfucka like I’m some duck-ass nigga. All bullshit aside, what’s good wit’ you?”
    I sigh. Okay, I ain’t gonna sit here ’n front wit’ ya’ll, there’s sumthin’ ’bout this nigga that gotta bitch curious. He’s so fuckin’ rude. He’s nasty. He’s a womanizer. And he ain’t no muthafuckin’ good. But, he’s oh sooooo damn chocolate and chiseled and muthafuckin’ fine that a bitch wanna have a lil’ taste. I wanna see the nigga buck-naked; see if he’s swingin’ one’a them juicy Mandingo cocks. But, fuck that. I ain’t ’bout to make shit easy for the nigga, either.
    “Look, impress me. You wanna get in these drawers; you wanna taste this pussy, then you gonna need to come hard, or get the fuck on.”
    He laughs. “Yo, I stay hard and I can fuck hard so all that shit you sayin’ ain’t nuthin’ but a thang,