Booty Call *69 (20 page)

“Yeah, you know I had to come through to celebrate your birthday—happy birthday, my niggah,” I say.

“Good lookin’ out, Ja. A niggah twenty-three today. Can you believe that? We gettin’ old,” he says, picking up an empty glass and a bottle of Cristal to pour me a drink. “Here, my niggah. It’s my birthday; we gettin’ twisted tonight.”

I take the glass and quickly down the Cristal. Tyrone sits back down and puts his arm around shorty. “I’m surprised you came alone,” he says.

“Yeah, you know, I’m chillin’ tonight,” I reply.

“Niggah, fuck dat. We got plenty of bitches in here. And it’s a good thing you
did
come alone—look around.”

I look around and see that he isn’t lying. The lounge is overflowing with women, and they’re all looking fine. Tyrone pours me another drink, and I down that one, too.

We sit around at the table for a moment, drinking, talking and flirting with the ladies. Tyrone is really having a good time. He’s dressed like a rap star, sporting a lot of jewelry, mostly platinum and diamonds. And he’s clad in a denim Sean John suit and a Yankees cap, tilted low over his left brow.

By midnight our table is surrounded by beautiful women. Milk and Sweet also come through. They’re both dressed like they just came from a porno shoot.

Tyrone is a big Jay-Z fan, and he’s already had the DJ playing his records back-to-back for about an hour straight. The bottles of Moet and Cristal are quickly being consumed, and the women are getting frisky and horny.

“You having a good time, Jakim?” Tyrone shouts over the loudspeakers.

“Fo’ sure, niggah,” I shout back. I have a beautiful woman under my arm and a bottle in my hand.

“Yo, you look really happy. What, you got some pussy earlier?” he asks.

“Somethin’ like dat,” I reply smiling.

“Word?! You fucked dat shorty I hooked you up with in Canarsie?”

“Nah, I ain’t holla at that yet.”

“Niggah, what…you need to get at dat.”

“I might.”

Tyrone shakes his head in disbelief. “Yo, get on your job, Jakim. She a bad bitch fo’ real.”

“I know.”

“So, what’s wit’ the jolliness? I know it ain’t ‘cause it’s my birthday,”
he continues before glancing behind him. “Yo, I can’t hear shit wit’ these fuckin’ speakers blasting in my ear. Walk wit’ me outside. I need to smoke anyway.”

We get up and walk outside. When we get a few feet from the entrance, Tyrone pulls out a cigarette and places it between his lips. He quickly lights it and takes a long drag. He remains silent for a moment. “So, who is she?” he asks.

I can’t hold my excitement in any longer. “Yo, I’m getting back with Shana again,” I blurt out.

“What?”

“Yeah, son. We’ve been talking, and we trying to do our thang again. I spent da night with her on Thanksgiving.”

Tyrone looks at me with disdain. “Jakim, what I told you about dat bitch!”

“Ty, she ain’t a bitch,” I protest.

“Yeah she is. Can’t you see, niggah? She fuckin’ wit’ your head. She’s fuckin’ playin’ you! Niggah, you get one whiff of it again, and your ass is pussy whipped. C’mon, son, you got plenty of bitches to get with, and you keep running back to her triflin’ ass.”

“Yo, it ain’t even like dat. We love each other. See, you wouldn’t understand something like dat. You out here too busy being a playa…niggah, you don’t know what love is anyway,” I counter.

“Niggah, love is turning you into a fuckin’ fool. How you know she ain’t out here fuckin’ wit’ da next niggah! Yo, dat bitch gonna break your heart again. You need to leave her alone, Jakim.”

“Man, you sound like you hatin’ right now…what’s up wit’ dat? I thought you was gonna be happy for your boy.”

“I’ll be happy once you leave dat bitch alone! You need to call Lisa and get wit’ her ass.”

“Fuck Lisa! You fuck her then, if it’s dat good!”

“Niggah, fuck you! I’m tryin’ to look out for you, and you out here playin’
Love Jones
and shit. Dat bitch don’t give you no respect, so why you keep sweatin’ her? She don’t give a fuck about you, niggah. She probably already fuckin’ da next niggah. But he dissin’ her and she got you on the rebound. Get your head out your ass, niggah. Shana ain’t nothin’ but a two-dollar ho!”

I quickly punch him in the jaw, and blood spews from his mouth. I reacted without even thinking. He called my woman a ho, and I couldn’t let that fly.

Tyrone spits blood from his mouth and then glares at me. “You know what, niggah? I’m gonna give you a pass on dat one. It’s my birthday, and you my boy. But you ever touch me again, and I’ll fuckin’ murder you. I don’t care how long we’ve been boys.” He walks away, dabbing at his mouth.

“Ty…” I call out, but he doesn’t respond. He walks back into the joint without saying another word to me.

I feel guilty, having attacked him like that. It’s his birthday, and I can’t let the night end like this. I know I’m in the wrong, despite what he called Shana.

I go back into the lounge. I want to apologize to Tyrone. I head back upstairs and find him on the couch with his arm back around the Dominican woman. He gives me a blank stare. I stand silently in front of the table for a moment. He smirks and then whispers something in the Dominican woman’s ear. She glances at me and then does the unexpected. She leans over sideways into Tyrone’s lap, indicating that she’s about to
give him a blowjob in the crowded club. I watch her head bob up and down. Tyrone just throws his arms across the back of the couch and relaxes while looking at me.

“Don’t apologize, Jakim. Shit happens, right? You can’t help but be who you be. You in love, then you in love. Dat must be some good-ass pussy for your bitch-ass to keep running back to it!” he yells out for everyone to hear. “Fuck it! Get caught up, niggah. I don’t’ give a fuck! Fuck dat bitch and be married. Turn a ho into a housewife.”

“Niggah, fuck you!” I chide and walk off. Fuck him and his birthday. I tried to do right by him, and he’s hatin’.

I walk out of the club, wishing it didn’t have to go down like that—but it did. “Jakim, wait up!” I hear someone shout as I approach my car. I turn around and see Milk running up to me in a pair of stilettos. “What you want, Milk?”

“He didn’t mean dat shit back there,” she says in his defense.

“Fuck him!”

“You know he’s drunk, Jakim. He’s just showing off and acting stupid. He’s jealous because he knows he can never find what you have with your girl. I think it’s nice that you’re in love. I wish I had a man in love with me,” she says.

“Yeah, well, you’re a cutie; I’m sure you’ll find someone.”

She smiles. “Here, take down my number and give me a call one day—in case things don’t work out with you and your girl…or if you wanna have some fun again.”

I take her number, and that little dog in me starts telling me to fuck her tonight. I’m having flashbacks of our threesome. But Shana soon comes to mind, and I realize that for me to become a better man for her, I
need to change my promiscuous ways and stop feeding into temptation and lust all the time. God knows Milk is definitely tempting, with her sexy white ass. She’s wearing a short, scanty mini skirt, with a split that almost goes up to her ass. Staring at her petite figure, I slowly back away from her. “I’ll think about it,” I say.

“You do dat, baby, wit’ your fine self,” she says and struts back into the club. Scandalous, some women can be. She knows I’m trying to get back with my girl, and she’s still throwing the pussy at me. I shake my head and get in my car.

The following afternoon, I’m chilling with Evay on Farmers and Linden. We just came from the liquor store, getting ourselves a bottle of Hennessy and a two-liter of coke. We sit in my parked car, talking and getting tipsy.

Evay was looking stressed out, so I suggested that we get a bottle and chill. He got arrested a few days ago, but the cops didn’t have a charge on him. The only reason 5-0 fucked wit’ him was because he and Tyrone are associates. And Tyrone isn’t playing it cool with either of us, since smacking Evay up and dissing me at the lounge.

I take a swig from the bottle and pass it to Evay. “Yo, dat niggah better stop playin’ himself, Jakim. I swear, if he puts his hands on me again…I swear, I’ll kill dat muthafucka. He thinks it’s funny—embarrassing me in front of his peoples. We supposed to be boys. He touches me again, and I’ll kill him. I swear, Ja…watch.”

I know it’s the liquor talking; Evay’s no killer. He’s as harmless as a fly. “Niggah, don’t stress it. You know how Tyrone is. He’s a showoff.”

Evay passes the bottle back to me, but before I can put it to my lips, my cell phone goes off. It’s Latish. D
amn that bitch
. “Evay, give me a few minutes. I gotta take this call,” I say. He steps out of the car. “What up?”

“What time you coming by tonight?” Latish asks.

“Latish, I said I’ll be there! Damn!”

“I just wanted to make sure, dat’s all. I miss you, baby.”

“Yeah, whatever. Listen, stop calling me,” I chide.

“But….Jakim, I like you a lot, and despite what everybody thinks about me, I really wanna be with you. I’ll change just for us to be together.”

“Yo, I’ll talk to you when I get there.” I hang up.

Evay comes back to the car a few minutes later with another bottle of brown juice. He’s getting twisted; he has a lot of shit on his mind.

“Yo, Evay, I gotta make a run real quick. I’m gonna holla at you later,” I say.

“Aiight, Jakim.” He strolls off down the street with the brown paper bag containing the liquor clutched in his hand. I watch him through my rearview mirror as he disappears around the corner. I start up my car and head to Latish’s place.

I get there around five. My gut is telling me to leave, but I don’t. I step out of my car and know that I have to break the news to Latish about Shana and me getting back together. I walk up to her door and ring the bell. Moments later, Latish appears in her panties, bra and stilettos. There’s a broad smile on her face. I swear my dick just jumped. “Come in,” she says hospitably.

“Latish, we need to talk,” I manage to say.

But she pulls me inside by my jacket, not giving me a chance to explain myself. “Just come inside. We can talk downstairs,” she says cheerfully.

I follow her downstairs. The living room is dimly lit with sweet scented candles. I know she just wants to fuck. But I tell myself not tonight or ever again. I want to be in a serious, committed relationship with Shana.

Latish comes up behind me and puts her arms around my waist, pressing her breasts into my back. She then slides her hands gently underneath my shirt and moves them soothingly up and down my chest. I moan slightly, appreciating her soft, womanly touch.

“I wanna please you tonight, baby,” she whispers with sensitivity. “I wanna make love to you.”

I let out a helpless sigh. “Latish—” She abruptly turns me around and pushes me down onto the couch.

“Ssshhhh…” She presses her index finger against her soft, glossy lips. I stare up at her as she begins taking off her underwear. She stands stark naked in front of me in her stilettos, and her petite, dark form shimmers in the candlelit room. It’s a wonderful view.

Latish slowly and seductively struts up to me. She then straddles me and begins fondling and kissing me tenderly. Moments later, she’s down on her knees in between my legs, pulling away at my belt.

Stop her
, I tell myself.
You’re in love with Shana. This can’t happen tonight
. Latish pulls out my dick and starts stroking me lovingly. I moan as her warm, soft hand slowly moves up and down my shaft. I close my eyes, enjoying her gentle touch for the moment.

Pussy,
I tell myself,
is going to be my downfall if I don’t end this affair now.
With my jeans lying around my ankles, I feel her mouth, lips and tongue sucking and nibbling away at my nuts. She’s tea-bagging me, and definitely teasing and making it hard for me to say what I have to say. She
kisses all around my shaft while playing with the tip of it. “You like when I suck your big black dick?” she says pleasingly.

I remain quiet. Her lips slide down on the dick, and she starts slobbing me down like a porn star. “Ummmm,” I mutter, overwhelmed.
Fuck, why am I so fuckin’ weak?
I let her continue to suck my dick for about five minutes. “Latish…stop!” I finally cry out.

She stops and looks up at me. “Excuse me?” she says.

“I said stop,” I sternly state.

“What’s wrong, baby?” she asks, looking at me with concern.

I push her away from me and reach down for my pants. “I can’t do this no more.”

“What da fuck you talkin’ about, Jakim?” she asks with a bit of disdain in her voice.

“I can’t do this wit’ you anymore.” She’s not trying to hear me, and she moves toward me again, wanting to continue where she left off. But I’m adamant about what I just said. I push her away from me, harder this time, and she falls back on the floor on the palms of her hands. I continue. “You and me, it stops right now. I’m not doing this wit’ you anymore.”