answers, and climbs on top of me. She kisses me in my mouth and continues, “I used to see you outside of Club Tropicana. I was too young to get in the club, so I used to sit outside on the hood of my friend's car and wait for the club to let out so I could check out the fellows. I still remember the first night I saw you, I said to myself, ‘One day I'ma get that fine-ass nigga.’ ”
“Is that right?” I'm blushing hard as hell.
“Sheeett, everybody knows you the flyest nigga in town,” she says, boosting my ego even more.
“Have you ever fucked with a nigga like me?” I ask.
“Well, I used to be in love with a girl name Ann, but she was fem.”
“Why did you stop fucking with her?”
“ 'Cause we was having money problems. We used to have an apartment together, but Ann started getting high and fucking up our money,” she answers.
“Oh yeah, so where you from?” I ask 'cause I never saw Shorty around town until she started doing Nessa's hair.
“I've lived a little bit of everywhere, but I lived with Ann in Petersburg.”
Since I'm straight butch, I don't know why she likes me, but then again, she's fucking with that nigga Turk and he's one of the hardest niggas in Richmond.
“So what's up with you and Turk?”
“T is too possessive, and his ass is starting to get tight with his money. I only started fucking with him 'cause his ass was getting paid. I've been tryna stick it out with him until I can save up enough money to move to Atlanta.”
“Word. Have you ever been to Atlanta before?”
“I plan on moving there and opening up my own hair salon,” she answers. Then she gives me another soft kiss on the lips, slides off me, jumps down off the picnic table, and starts running toward the truck.
We decide not to go to the movies. We drive down to Virginia Beach and get a room. Once in the room, she gives me a full body massage, complete with hot oil. Then we get in the sauna together. I hadn't brought my strap with me 'cause she said she wasn't ready for that. I'm satisfied with just locking and bumping pussies with her. Man, Shorty is so muh-fucking bad that I allow her ass to revoke my butch card. I'm spending money like it ain't funny. She is used to being wined and dined by Turk so I have to keep the broad in her element. Our three-day escape from Richmond includes Virginia Beach, Norfolk Naval Base, Busch Gardens, Water Country, Captain George's Seafood, Colonial Williamsburg, and shopping at the pottery and outlet stores in Williamsburg. We have so much shit in the Rodeo when we return to Richmond that it is ridiculous.
When I get back, Momma is sitting on the porch with a frown on her face, like she pissed off or something.
“What's wrong, Ma?” I ask 'cause I don't know what the fuck her problem is.
“Demetria, that damn Nessa called all day Monday and Tuesday. She say the city jail don't have no air-conditioning and that her bronchitis is acting up.”
I still had $25,000, but I meant I wasn't gonna go get her ass until I was good and goddamn ready.
“Ma, Nessa faking. She say that same old shit every time,” I say as I walk past her and make my way into the house. Momma follows me in, still bitching about Nessa being locked up. As soon as I sit down at the kitchen table, Sneaky Pete comes knocking at the back door.
“Come in, man,” I invite, but I stand right there beside the muh-fucking refrigerator. I point to the spot where I want the nigga to stand. Niggas call Pete ass Sneaky Pete 'cause that nigga would steal the drawers off yo ass, yo clothesline, or from wherever, then go sell yo shit so he could get high. That nigga is so cruddy that one time he sold me a radio and when I went upstairs to get the money for the nigga, he had stolen the radio back from me. I came back downstairs, gave the nigga the $20, and put his ass out of my house. Man, when I went to go hook the shit up, I realized that the nigga had beaten me out of my money and the radio. The shit was so
“Is that right?” I'm blushing hard as hell.
“Sheeett, everybody knows you the flyest nigga in town,” she says, boosting my ego even more.
“Have you ever fucked with a nigga like me?” I ask.
“Well, I used to be in love with a girl name Ann, but she was fem.”
“Why did you stop fucking with her?”
“ 'Cause we was having money problems. We used to have an apartment together, but Ann started getting high and fucking up our money,” she answers.
“Oh yeah, so where you from?” I ask 'cause I never saw Shorty around town until she started doing Nessa's hair.
“I've lived a little bit of everywhere, but I lived with Ann in Petersburg.”
Since I'm straight butch, I don't know why she likes me, but then again, she's fucking with that nigga Turk and he's one of the hardest niggas in Richmond.
“So what's up with you and Turk?”
“T is too possessive, and his ass is starting to get tight with his money. I only started fucking with him 'cause his ass was getting paid. I've been tryna stick it out with him until I can save up enough money to move to Atlanta.”
“Word. Have you ever been to Atlanta before?”
“I plan on moving there and opening up my own hair salon,” she answers. Then she gives me another soft kiss on the lips, slides off me, jumps down off the picnic table, and starts running toward the truck.
We decide not to go to the movies. We drive down to Virginia Beach and get a room. Once in the room, she gives me a full body massage, complete with hot oil. Then we get in the sauna together. I hadn't brought my strap with me 'cause she said she wasn't ready for that. I'm satisfied with just locking and bumping pussies with her. Man, Shorty is so muh-fucking bad that I allow her ass to revoke my butch card. I'm spending money like it ain't funny. She is used to being wined and dined by Turk so I have to keep the broad in her element. Our three-day escape from Richmond includes Virginia Beach, Norfolk Naval Base, Busch Gardens, Water Country, Captain George's Seafood, Colonial Williamsburg, and shopping at the pottery and outlet stores in Williamsburg. We have so much shit in the Rodeo when we return to Richmond that it is ridiculous.
When I get back, Momma is sitting on the porch with a frown on her face, like she pissed off or something.
“What's wrong, Ma?” I ask 'cause I don't know what the fuck her problem is.
“Demetria, that damn Nessa called all day Monday and Tuesday. She say the city jail don't have no air-conditioning and that her bronchitis is acting up.”
I still had $25,000, but I meant I wasn't gonna go get her ass until I was good and goddamn ready.
“Ma, Nessa faking. She say that same old shit every time,” I say as I walk past her and make my way into the house. Momma follows me in, still bitching about Nessa being locked up. As soon as I sit down at the kitchen table, Sneaky Pete comes knocking at the back door.
“Come in, man,” I invite, but I stand right there beside the muh-fucking refrigerator. I point to the spot where I want the nigga to stand. Niggas call Pete ass Sneaky Pete 'cause that nigga would steal the drawers off yo ass, yo clothesline, or from wherever, then go sell yo shit so he could get high. That nigga is so cruddy that one time he sold me a radio and when I went upstairs to get the money for the nigga, he had stolen the radio back from me. I came back downstairs, gave the nigga the $20, and put his ass out of my house. Man, when I went to go hook the shit up, I realized that the nigga had beaten me out of my money and the radio. The shit was so
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