Gettin' Buck Wild: Sex Chronicles II (21 page)

I’m a bitch, and that’s the bottom line. I wasn’t born this way, but people I’ve crossed paths with throughout my life made me this way. There used to be a time when I would bite my tongue, but then I realized that no one else was biting theirs with me. My mother laid into me just about every day while I was growing up. The truly fucked-up thing was that none of her issues and hang-ups had anything to do with me. I was just the object of her vengeance.

If something went wrong at her job, she would come home and cuss me out. If something went wrong with one of the numerous relationships she became involved in, she would come home and cuss me out. If she got a nail in her tire or a parking ticket, she would come home and—guess what—cuss me out.

My grandfather was just as bad. He would cuss me out because my mother couldn’t trap a man into marrying her. He would cuss me out because my real father ran away. He would cuss me out because he was going bald. Everybody felt like they could just run over Beatriz for the hell of it.

I caught on quick, and by my freshman year in high school, I was taking no prisoners. My English teacher tried to play me in front of the room. We had to do book reports on a stupid-ass book—a so-called classic—that no one felt like reading. I took a shortcut and watched the movie. Back then, I had no idea that movies are often
way
different than the book. So my report had a ton of inconsistencies, which Mr. Richards took much pride in pointing out. When I revealed the fact that I had spotted him more than a dozen times coming out of the gay club down the street from my house, he didn’t have shit else to say. The rumor spread so fast through the school that the fool was forced to resign in shame less than a month later. That taught him not to fuck with me.

People still try to play me. Just the other day, I was headed into the supermarket. I grabbed the first spot I saw, which happened to be one of those reserved for expectant women or those with small infants. I got out of my car, and some ninety-nine-year-old skeezer asked me if I had noticed the sign. I looked at her like she was crazy.

“Yes, I noticed the sign,” I responded in disgust. “And?”

“And are you preg-a-nant?”

Now there I was minding my own damn business, and she had to go there. She was loading her groceries in the car and about to roll out, so it wasn’t like I was preventing her old ass from getting a space.

“Yes, I’m pregnant,” I lied, trying to squash the shit before I had to put my foot up her ass.

She placed her hands on her hips and leered at me. “Well, you don’t look preg-a-nant.”

That did it! “First of all, you need to learn how to pronounce the damn word. It’s
pregnant,
not
preg-a-nant!
Secondly, unless you’ve been crawling around in my uterus, you don’t know whether I’m fucking pregnant or not! This is 2002! You have a lot of damn nerve getting into grown folks’ business. That kind of shit can get you shot these days.”

She scanned the parking lot real quick, probably wondering who would save her if I did indeed whip out a gun. She started making a dash to get the remaining groceries in her car.

“That’s right!” I yelled out, continuing to badger her. “You better get the fuck out of here! You better be glad I don’t have any powder in my purse because I’d put some in my palm and pimp-slap your ass!”

With that, I walked away and went inside to get a dozen buffalo wings from the deli and a small container of salad for dinner.

After I got home and got my grub on, the phone started ringing off the hook. My mother called, asking to borrow a hundred bucks. She wanted to buy sexy lingerie for some new idiot she was trying to trap. I told her to bite me. She never did shit for me but try to break my spirit. And now that I’m an adult and out of her household, I relish paying her back for all her dirt.

No sooner had I slammed the phone down on her than it rang again. This time it was my ex-lover Web trying to make a booty call. Web is a sexy mutha fucka, but he isn’t getting any more of this. They call him Web because he has these spiderweb tattoos all over his body. Nothing turns me on more than a roughneck, so I was used to be feeling that shit when we got naked and went for it. Any man who would permanently mark up his body like that is hard, and usually hard men work it out in the bedroom. Plus, Web had me thinking we might really have something together. Well, that shit wasn’t true. It turned out that he was dating not one but two of my closest friends on the sly. The sluts. Once I found out, I cut them all off. But Web was still begging. He knew whose sex was on the money. Too bad for him, because my pussy went off limits from the moment I found out he was a cheater. When he asked if he could come over, I said yes, as long as he didn’t mind me slicing his dick off once he got there. He called me a crazy bitch and hung up on me.
Good!

My cousin Rochelle called me next. She was tripping because she wanted to know where she could get some weed. “Do I look like Drugs ’R Us?” I asked. “Because last time I checked, I don’t even smoke the shit.” Sure, way back in the day I puffed a time or two, but not anymore. Other than greasy food once or twice a week and soda, I don’t put
anything
bad in my body. That includes bad dick, which is why I started contemplating about giving Antoine a call.

Antoine wasn’t a pretty boy in the traditional sense of the word, but he damn sure had a pretty-ass dick. I met him at a gas station. It was one of those times when I had purchased enough gas to qualify for a discounted car wash. Normally I take a pass, but my car was funky dirty, so I decided to go ahead and pay the three bucks to get the works.

I pulled my car over to the car wash entrance and waited my turn. There were two vehicles in front of me and one inside the unit with the doors down. I cranked up my Snoop on the radio and rocked my head to the beat. Then I noticed a brother vacuuming out an Escalade across the way. I couldn’t make out his face because he had on a Negro League baseball cap, but he was rocking this tank top, and his muscles were cut.

He leaned inside the car and bent over to vacuum something deep inside his truck, and his ass was protruding in my direction. What an ass it was! Shit was so lovely I had to lick my lips.

I didn’t realize that my turn had arrived until some whore behind me started laying on her horn. I rolled down my window and yelled out, “Shut the fuck up!”

I could see her eyes rolling from afar but didn’t give a damn as I pulled in. I couldn’t get ole boy’s body out my mind and started willing the wash cycle to hurry up and finish. I didn’t want him to pull off without getting a chance to holler at him.

When the exit door finally opened, I sped out of there so fast that I almost hit the right side of the building. I grinned when I saw that he was still working on his ride. I pulled over to him, rolled down the window, and tooted my horn. He glanced at me, and I waved him over.

“Yeah?” he asked once he was right up on me.

“I was wondering if you could give me some directions,” I replied, trying to sound seductive.

“Where are you trying to get to?”

“Your bedroom.”

He looked dumbfounded for a second, and then he started blushing. “Let me get this straight. You want directions to my bedroom?”

“Yes, I hear it’s a place worth checking out.”

He chuckled. “And who told you that? Do I know you?”

“No, but you can get to know me. You can get to know me today.”

He took a step back and eyed me suspiciously. “Naw, things like this just don’t happen.”

“Things like what?”

“Fine-ass women coming up to me at gas stations talking about letting me tap that ass.”

“Well, it’s happening today.”

“Are you for real?”

I rolled my eyes. He was beginning to irritate me, but my pussy had started thumping, and it needed to be fed. “For real.”

“For real, for real?”

“Look, my name is Beatriz, and I’m telling you straight up that I’m horny. I saw you while I was waiting in line for the car wash, and you were looking all good and shit, so I decided to come see what was up. But if you can’t hang with a freak like me, let me know now so I can go on about my business and find someone who is down.”

“No, no, I’m down,” he stated anxiously. His voice wasn’t the only thing that was anxious either because I could see his dick harden underneath his royal blue basketball shorts. “My name’s Antoine. What did you say your name was again?”

“Beatriz.” We stared each other down in lust for a few seconds before I asked, “Do you live near here, Antoine? More importantly, do you live alone, or are you married or shacked up or some shit like that?”

“Honestly?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to answer.”

He looked down at the ground. “I’m engaged.”

“Aw, how sweet.” I bit my bottom lip and looked at his groin. “Does your fiancé make your dick hard like I just did?”

He seemed embarrassed. “From time to time she does.”

“Uh-huh, I bet she’s some prissy chick that doesn’t even want to sweat her hair out during sex.” He smirked, and I knew I had hit the nail on the head. “Surely you’re not used to dealing with a bottom-line bitch like me.”

“A bottom-line bitch?”

“Yeah, did I stutter?” I asked sarcastically.

“Why would you call yourself a bitch?”

“Because that’s what I am, and I’m damn proud of it.” I put my car in park and hopped out. “Listen, are you down for this or not, because a sistah could be getting her nails done or something.”

I checked out my nails, and I did need a fill-in. I peeped his, and they were neatly clipped and clean; a definite must when it comes to men I fuck—any man with dirty nails generally has dirty balls, and that shit just ain’t kosher.

He hesitated before saying, “It’s just that—”

“That what?”

“I’ve never cheated on her before.”

“I can dig that. I had a man cheat on me, and I dumped his ass, so she would probably do the same to you.”

He laughed nervously. “I’m sure she’d do the same thing to me.”

I moved closer and rubbed my pussy up against his dick, since we were about the same height. “Danger can be very sexy. I’m not trying to fall in love. I’m just trying to fuck.”

“And you want to go to my house?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Why can’t we go to yours?”

There was no way I was taking a strange brotha to my house. What if he got pussy-whipped and started stalking me?

“There’s no danger at my place, Antoine. The possibility of getting caught is such a turn-on.” I flicked the tip of my tongue across his cheek. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

It took about ten more minutes to convince Antoine to play the game. Five minutes after that I was parking beside him in the two car garage of a brand-spanking-new three-level home. The shit was off the chain. He led me inside. The ceilings on the entry level had to be at least fifteen feet tall. The main living area was airy and encased by picture windows with the back facing a thicket of woods. The house had oak hardwood floors, leather furniture, and a black kitchen with a marble counter.

I went into the kitchen and jumped up on the countertop. “This looks like a good spot to fuck.”

“In the kitchen?”Antoine asked in amazement. “I thought you wanted to see my bedroom?”

“I do and I will.” I glanced at the digital clock on the microwave. It was two-thirty. “So what time does Miss Prissy get home from work?”

“She’s really not even like that. She’s a great woman.”

“If she’s so great, why am I here?” I demanded to know.

Antoine shrugged his shoulders. “I guess because this is an adventure.”

I clamped my ankles around his waist and pulled him to me. “It’s not an adventure yet but it will be.”

After putting my arms around his neck, I slipped my tongue into his wet mouth. His tongue was kind of rough but he knew how to kiss well. I took his cap off and noticed that he was a lot better looking than I thought. He still wasn’t pretty though.

He had brown, curly hair and dark eyes, which complemented his even darker skin. I pulled my baby tee over my head and revealed my braless upper body. Antoine wasted not a second plopping a titty into his mouth and trying to devour it whole.

“Mmm, that’s it, baby,” I whispered in his ear. “Milk this bitch!”

The house was silent with the exception of Antoine’s sucking noises. I kicked off my sandals and hooked one toe of each foot into the waistline of his shorts, using them to pull them down. Then I repeated the move to get his drawers off.

I pushed him off my titty. “What do you have good in your fridge?”

Antoine appeared stunned by my question. “You’re hungry?”

I giggled and pushed him farther away so I could get down from the counter. “No, silly. I want to see what you have to enhance the experience for us.” I opened the fridge door and spotted what I was searching for. “Aw, hot sauce!”

I took the bottle out and turned around with it in my hand. The expression on Antoine’s face was worth a mint.

“What the hell are you going to do with hot sauce?”