The Kat Trap (24 page)

“Oh, fuckin’ really? Then answer me this: why is it you made sure I knew ’bout all the other bitches you were smashin’ ’cept her ass, hunh, nigga? Why was that? She tells you not to say anything and you ride with that shit. Why? Was you fuckin’ that bitch raw?”

He was silent.

“You know what, nigga, forget it. Don’t even bother answerin’ that ’cause it’s not like you still my man, so really, the shit’s not
that serious to me. However, I’ma still rock that bitch when I see her for tryna clown me all these years.”

“See, here you go,” he said, suckin’ his teeth. “Kat, that shit is dead. Besides, ain’t like you and me still fuckin’. You dumped a muhfucka, remember?”

“Yeah, nigga, I remember.
And?
That ain’t got shit to do with the fact that you was fuckin’ her while fuckin’
me
; that’s all I need to know. Ain’t shit dead until I beat her ass the fuck down, then you can talk to me ’bout shit bein’ dead. And you lucky ya ass is behind the wall ’cause I’d get at ya ass, too, nigga. If I woulda known this shit from gate, I woulda never fucked with ya monkey ass.”

He laughed. “Oh, shit. Why I gotta be a ‘monkey ass’?”

“’Cause that’s what the fuck you are. Now, do me a favor and don’t call my fuckin’ house no goddamn more.”

“Yo, I know you hot right now, but you don’t mean that shit. I know you still got love for me.”

“Nigga, you don’t really know me then.” I hung up, then called Iris’s ass. Her phone went straight into voicemail, but I couldn’t leave a message ’cause her box was full. I called Chanel.

“Hey, Kat,” she said, soundin’ all cheery ’n shit.

“You talk to that bitch Iris yet?”

“Nah, no one has still seen or heard from her ass. Why, what’s wrong?”

“Ain’t shit wrong; let that bitch know I’m straight rockin’ her fuckin’ grill in when I see her, so her best bet is to stay far the fuck away from me.”

“Bitch, what is you talkin’ ’bout? What the fuck done happened?”

“Chanel, I’ma ask you somethin’ and I want it raw.”

“Aiight, you got that. You know I’ma always be real with mine.”

“I hope so, ’cause if you not…” I paused, sighin’. Chanel was
my fuckin’ girl, but I knew if the bitch knew ’bout this shit all along, I was gonna have to cut her ass off for real. And I might end up goin’ in her mouth for keepin’ the shit from me. I took a deep breath. “Did you know Iris was fuckin’ Naheem while we were dealin’ with each other?” I asked, holdin’ my breath.

“What? When?” she asked, soundin’ surprised. But I still wasn’t convinced. “Kat, ain’t no way Iris would go there. I mean, I know she could be messy, but she knows how we roll. And if she woulda told me some shit like that you know I woulda checked her ass, then put you on. Fuck that. You my muhfuckin’ people, and that shit ain’t cool, Kat.”

Okay, maybe she didn’t know, but I bet that bitch Tamia did. Those trick bitches were two peas in a pod. They always knew who was fuckin’ and suckin’ who. Hell, them bitches done tag-teamed plenty of niggas together, so yeah, Tamia’s ass knew.

“Yes, the bitch would. And she did.” I told her about the phone call from Naheem and how it had me lookin’ at shit sideways.

“Damn. That’s some real foul shit. Kat, on e’ery thing I love, I had no idea. She never told me shit ’bout fuckin’ him.”

“Chanel, I promise you, I’ma wear that bitch out when I see her.”

“Oh, well,” she said, sighin’. “That’s my girl ’n all, but she brought that shit on herself. So she’s gonna have to wear that ass whippin’.”

“You know what, do me a favor. Forget we even had this conversation.”

“Hunh?”

“Don’t tell that ho shit when you talk to her ass. Let the bitch think e’erything’s e’erything, like shit’s all sweet.”

Like I told ya’ll before, I like to always let a bitch know what it is, so she can be ready to rock when she sees me comin’. But
since that bitch wanted to be on some slick shit, fuckin’ my man right up under my nose, then I was gonna catch her ass off guard and drop her ass. As far as I’m concerned, if the bitch grinned up in my face after ridin’ my man’s dick, then I had to wonder what else her messy ass did while smilin’ up in my face. Then again, what the fuck did I expect? This is the same bitch who fucked her own stepfather and her sister’s man when we were in high school. So, no…this dirty bitch fuckin’ Naheem ain’t really no damn surprise.

“You got that,” Chanel said.

“Aiight,” I said, glancin’ over at the digital clock on the microwave. It was almost five o’clock and I hadn’t done shit all day. I needed to do laundry and still hadn’t packed for my trip to Vegas. “Listen, I’m out. I got shit to do. I’ma get at ya later.”

“Well, fuck you too, ho,” she said, laughin’. “Holla back.”

“Love you, too, slut,” I said before hangin’ up.

I went down into the laundry room, tossed a load of clothes in the washer, then took my ass upstairs to pack. When I was finished, I turned on my stereo and pressed the remote button for CD. DMX’s “X Gone Give It to Ya” came on. I lit a blunt, flopped back onto my bed, then slid my right hand inside my pink lace panties and played in my curly, triangled patch of hair, slowly brushin’ my hand over my clit, then along the openin’ of my pussy. I needed a good fuck to take the edge off, ’cause a bitch’s nerves were truly rattled. And fuckin’ myself was not gonna do it—not tonight. Ugh! I removed my hand and played with my right nipple until it hardened. I continued to puff on my blunt, pinchin’ and tweakin’ my nipple until my blunt was almost down to a roach, then jumped up off the bed. “Fuck!” I said out loud as I headed toward the bathroom. “I need some fuckin’ dick in
my life.” Although I coulda called Grant’s ass to come through and dig this hole out, I really wasn’t beat for him, not at that moment. Besides, I didn’t wanna give the nigga too much pussy too soon ’cause then a muhfucka starts buggin’.

I went back downstairs to the laundry room, put the load of clothes into the dryer, then went back upstairs to take my shower. Twenty minutes later, I climbed in bed with thoughts of ridin’ a long, black dick before I drifted off to sleep.

At two-fifteen the next day, I had arrived in Vegas, checked into Bally’s, received my travel package, and was now standin’ in the elevator on my way up to the seventh floor to my hotel room. My cell phone started ringin’. It was Grant.

“Hello?”

“Yo, what’s good, baby?”

“You,” I said, smilin’.

“Oh word? You been thinkin’ ’bout me?”

“Yep,” I said.

“Oh, word. What you been thinkin’ ’bout?”

I giggled, slidin’ the hotel key card into the door. I walked in, droppin’ my bags on the spare bed. “I’ve been thinkin’ ’bout suckin’ that big, thick, black dick of yours, and you feedin’ it to me real slow, then fuckin’ my throat, stretchin’ my neck.”

“Damn, baby. So what you sayin’? You tryna let a nigga come through or what?”

I sighed, removin’ my shoes, then slippin’ outta my clothes. “I wish. I’m outta town.”

“Damn, again? Where you at now?”

“Vegas,” I told him.

“Oh word? What you doin’ out there?”

“I have a business meetin’.”

“So why you talkin’ all slick, gettin’ a nigga’s dick brick ’n shit when ya ass ain’t even around for me to bang that shit up?”

“’Cause I’m horny,” I said, slippin’ my hands in my panties, then rubbin’ the front of my pussy, imaginin’ his face between my legs. I lay ’cross the bed and spread open my legs, bendin’ at the knees. “I want you to fill my horny, wet pussy up with your gushin’ hot nut, nigga.”

“Fuck! You really know how to get a nigga goin’, word up. You ain’t gonna be out there givin’ none of that pussy up, are you?”

I laughed. “Nigga, please. It ain’t that type of party,” I lied, knowin’ damn well in a matter of hours I was gonna have my pussy juice smeared all over another muhfucka’s face, then I was gonna be ridin’ down ’n dirty on that dick. I tried not to think ’bout it, so to keep myself from feelin’ any kinda way ’bout fuckin’, I kept remindin’ myself that it wasn’t personal; that it was strictly business. Then why the fuck was I feelin’ bad ’bout lyin’ to his ass?

“I’m horny as fuck,” he said. “Damn, I was hopin’ to get up in you today.”

“Oh, I’m sure you got someone else lined up to take my spot,” I said, half-jokin’. I got up and opened up the box containin’ my gun for the night, then lay back on the bed.

“I ain’t beat for them.” He sounded serious. But when it comes to a muhfucka and his dick, you can never be too sure. “The only pussy I’m checkin’ for is yours.”

“Oh, it’s like that?”

“Real talk,” he said, lowerin’ his voice. “When you comin’ home?”

“Thursday,” I said. “Why?”

“Stop playin’. You know what it is.”

“Oh, what…you tryna bag me?”

“I already did,” he said, laughin’. “Thought you knew.”

“Ooops, I don’t think I got that memo.”

“Yeah, aiight. Well, you got it now. You mine, baby.”

I smiled, closin’ my eyes and picturin’ him holdin’ his big dick in his hands, jerkin’ that shit off nice ’n slow while I rolled my tongue under and ’round his balls, then pulled ’em into my mouth one at a time, gently suckin’ ’em. Hearin’ his voice and rememberin’ how good he fucked me the last time we were together had my pussy tinglin’.

I slipped outta my red panties, spread open my pussy lips, then rubbed my unloaded .357 back and forth, up and down, against my slit until my pussy got real wet ’n creamy.

“Whatchu doin’?” I asked in a whisper that almost got caught in my throat, pushin’ up against the butt of my gun and the risin’ nut that was buildin’ up on the tip of my clit.

“Gettin’ ready to jump in the shower,” he said. “Why?”

“You naked?”

“I’m in my boxers. Why?”

“I want you to slide your dick up in me,” I said into the phone low ’n sexy.

“Oh, word? You tryna get shit poppin’ and you not here so I can get off?”

I pushed the barrel of the gun into my pussy, then moaned. “I want some dick,” I told him, grindin’ and moanin’. “I’m so horny. Squeeze ya dick for me.”

“C’mon, baby,” he whispered. “Don’t start this shit, you got my shit throbbin’.”

“Stick ya hands in ya boxers and play with it for me.”

“Girl,” he said in a deep whisper, “why you fuckin’ with me? You know I’ma wanna fuck.”

“Take ya dick out and stroke a nut out for me, daddy. Make
believe you rammin’ that long, black dick deep up in this tight, sweet pussy. You wanna feel this hot pussy wrapped ’round ya cock, big daddy?”

“Aaah, shit, girl. You got my shit all swollen ’n shit.”

“Mmm-hmm,” I moaned. “Just how I like it.”

“Oh, word? What you wanna do to this big dick?”

I closed my eyes and pictured his shiny dick in my head. I could see the thick veins runnin’ along the shaft of his cock.

I could see the tip of his dick leakin’ with clear, sticky precum. I could feel the heaviness of his hairy balls in my hands as I gently tugged on ’em before slippin’ ’em into my mouth. I pinched my clit and let out a moan. “I wanna ride that shit deep, wet it up with my sweet cream, then suck the nut outta it.”

“Word? What else you wanna do to daddy’s big dick?”

I flicked the barrel of the gun against my clit, rollin’ my left nipple between my fingers, then slippin’ the gun in and outta my pussy. My slippery slit grabbed and pulled at it. I let out another soft moan. “I wanna…Mmm…deep throat that shit…let you bust ya nut down in my throat…uh…then…Mmmph…I wanna ease that long, black dick in my tight, hot ass…Mmmm…ooooh…then I want you to bury that shit deep inside of me and slow fuck my asshole…”

“Oh, shit…you think you can handle all this dick?”

“I know I can. But first, I want you to take this pussy, nigga. Fuck it like you own it.” I started poppin’ ’n slappin’ the mouth of my pussy with my hand, causin’ my clit to stiffen and my juices to drip. I slipped the tip of the barrel back inside of me, slowly moved it in and out, then pushed it deeper into me. “Fuck me, nigga…Uh, aaaah…slam ya dick in me…oh, daddy…fuck me…”

“Damn. You got me hornier than a muhfucka. Fuck! Stick ya
fingers up in that pussy for me. Make daddy’s pussy pop for me. Can you do that for me, baby?”

“Mmm-hmm,” I moaned, pullin’ the barrel outta my pussy, then pressin’ on my clit with the butt of it, before slowly slidin’ the barrel back into my slippery hole. The steel tip felt good up against and in my pussy. I pushed the gun deeper inside, lettin’ out a loud moan. “Fuck me…oooh, aaah…oh, yes…fuck me…”

“Yeah, that’s right, baby. Come all over them fingers for me. Give daddy that sweet pussy juice. Yeah, baby…you feel this dick up in you.” The nigga’s voice dipped into a husky whisper. I could tell he was strokin’ that dick deep and hard.

“Yeah, nigga, stroke that dick for me…splash that hot nut deep up in this tight pussy…”

“Mmmph…oh, shit…fuck…”

“Jerk that big dick, nigga.”

“Aah, shit…you want daddy to plant this nut up in ya guts?”

“Yeah,” I panted, “bust ya dick up in this wet, hungry pussy.”

“Yeah, baby…daddy’s gettin’ ready to spit his nut up in ya.”

“Oooh, give it to me. Give it to me. Give it to me. Mmm…bang ya dick in me…fuck meeee.”

He moaned. I moaned. Then we both came in loud, earth-shattering grunts. On some real shit, we sounded like two howlin’ wolves. But it was all good. We held on to the phones, pantin’, tryna catch our breaths ’n shit.

“Damn, baby, that shit was good,” he said, lettin’ out a loud grunt. It sounded like his breath was stuck in his throat. “Fuck! I can’t wait to get up in you.”

“Me either,” I said, suckin’ my cream off the tip of the gun’s barrel, then slidin’ my hands between my legs. My pussy was so fuckin’ wet and achin’ for a stiff dick. That shit we did was nothin’
but a tease for a bitch like me. I was ready for some sweaty, deep-strokin’-all-night suckin ’n fuckin’. I hoped that was exactly what was in store for me later on.

“Damn, my shit is still hard. I’ma tear that ass up when you get home.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said, laughin’, “promises, promises.”

“Yeah, aiight. You won’t be sayin’ that when I got ya ass pinned down into the mattress.”

“Whatever, nigga,” I said, yawnin’. “Oh, excuse me. You done wore me out.”