The Game Don't Change. Mazaradi Fox
up to?” he asked.
“Nothin, just sittin here smokin.”
“Now that’s what I’m talkin ’bout.”
“You said that like you was on your way here,” she laughed.
“Soon as you give me the apartment number.”
“306.”
“A’ight. Got you. On my way!”
DeMarco flagged down a cab and told the driver where he wanted to go. He sat back thinking about what he was going to do to shorty. When they pulled up in front of the building, he paid the driver, then got out and headed up to her third-floor apartment. He knocked a few times with no answer. After a minute passed and nobody came to the door, he knocked again. Still no answer. He began to pull out his phone and was about to call her when he heard the chain slide from the other side. The door opened and Tiff was just standing there in a red bra and short-shorts, looking good enough to eat. He was speechless as he looked her up and down.
“You comin in?” she asked, smiling and stepping to the side. She led him to the living room where she had a movie playing.
“Scarface! This is my shit!” he said as he sat down on the sofa.
“This is one of my favorite movies.” She picked up a Dutch from off the table and started cracking it open.
Two blunts later, they both sat high as a kite. DeMarco was relaxed and deep into the movie when he felt Tiffany going for the zipper on his pants. He looked over at her and didn’t say a word as she pulled his dick through his boxers and wrapped her lips around it.
“Damn, girl,” he finally said, looking down at her sucking his dick like a professional.
“You like that?” she asked, coming up for air.
“Definitely. Don’t stop.” He pushed her head back down on his dick.
Thirty minutes later she was still sucking, and it felt so good he had to stop her. “Easy, girl. Get up and take those clothes off.”
Tiffany stood up and started coming out of the little bit of clothes she had on, bra first. When she pulled off her shorts and panties, her pretty pussy put him in a trance. It was perfectly trimmed and fat as hell.
“Come sit on this pole,” he said, pulling off his clothes.
Straddling him, Tiffany grabbed his dick with her right hand and held it while she slid down on him. “Oh shit,” she gasped.
With his dick inside of her, moving slowly at first, she worked him as her pussy grew wet. After a few minutes, she picked up speed, putting one of her feet on the sofa and riding him in a squatting position. She was bouncing up and down and the sound of her ass slapping against his thighs was driving him insane. He flipped her over on the couch and pulled her legs up on his shoulders. She moaned loudly as he slid all the way inside her. He spread her legs open wider by her ankles and started pounding on her pussy fast and deep.
“Oooh, yes. Just like that!” she yelled.
He continued fucking her for the next hour, until he nutted all over her stomach. He could get used to being with her. For a young girl, she knew how to make a nigga feel good. The pussy was so good it knocked him out. He slept like a baby with no intention of going home.
CHAPTER FIVE
DeMarco woke up the next morning in a daze. He looked over at Tiffany, who was asleep next to him. He eased out of the bed, trying not to wake her. He walked into the bathroom pulling out his semihard dick on the way to the toilet and noticed for the first time someone standing there butt-ass naked looking at him.
“Oh shit, my fault,” he said, still holding his dick in his hand.
“That’s a’ight, go ahead and use the bathroom,” she said, staring down at his hand. “I’m Sharon, Tiff’s older sister.”
He wasn’t uncomfortable with her presence. He was working with the right tools; even semihard, it was larger than most. After flushing the toilet he walked over to the sink to wash his hands. He glanced over at Sharon’s nakedness. She hadn’t even attempted to conceal her birthday suit. His eyes moved from top to bottom and stopped at her shaved pussy. His dick was now hard as a brick.
“And your name is . . . ?” she asked, pulling him out of his trance as she slid on a thong.
“DeMarco.”
“Well, nice to meet you, DeMarco. Now I gotta finished gettin dressed before I’m late for work.” Sharon pulled on a matching bra over her firm titties.
“Yeah, nice to meet you too,” he said.
She laughed as he walked out.
DeMarco put on his clothes as he looked at Tiffany sleeping. Finding a pen and paper, he wrote a quick note with his number on it before leaving the room. Sharon was standing in the doorway putting lotion on her body. She looked up and smiled before she pushed the door closed. Laughing to himself, he headed to the front door and let himself out.
* * *
Back at the crib, DeMarco walked straight upstairs to take a shower. After getting dressed, he went into the kitchen where his aunts were sitting talking to his cousin. Money had his head down on the table and was being scolded.
“See, I bet you learned your lesson now,” Momma Paula said as Aunt V. just chuckled.
“What I miss?” DeMarco asked, sitting down at the table.
“Fuckin wit them dumb-ass bitches out there last night, ya dumb-ass cousin got jumped by some dude,” Momma Paula replied.
“What?!” DeMarco yelled, leaping up from his chair. “Nah, niggas ain’t gonna jump my family. Money, where them niggas at?”
“Boy, sit down! Ain’t nobody jump nobody. They fought right there out front. He let some lil’ 5'3" shrimp whip his ass,” Aunt V. said before laughing again.
Looking at Money with his head still on the table and not saying anything, DeMarco sat back down and burst out laughing too.
“Money, tell me they lyin, yo. Tell me you ain’t let some lil’ nigga whip you out,” DeMarco said.
“Man, shut the fuck up, DeMarco!” Money yelled.
“Wow, gangster, don’t get mad at me! I ain’t the one that whipped you out.”
“A’ight, that’s enough. Boy, don’t you have somethin to do?” Momma Paula said to DeMarco.
“Yeah, I’m gone.” DeMarco grabbed the bag off the table and shook his head as he left the kitchen. He could hear Aunt V. giggling as he headed out of the house.
* * *
After finishing his drops, DeMarco returned home. He was sitting on the porch shooting the breeze with Money when his aunt came to the door to give him the phone. It was Lil’ Nicky.
“Lil’ Nicky, wassup wit you, nigga? When my aunt told me you called and then didn’t call back again, I thought they caught you.”
“Man, fuck them niggas,” Lil’ Nicky replied. “They ain’t gettin me again. But yo, I need to holla at you in a minute.”
“When you ready just holla, a’ight? Take my cell number,” DeMarco said.
“A’ight, let me go finish makin these moves. I’ma holla at you soon.”
“A’ight, Lil’ Nicky, make sure you holla at me. You know I got you,” he said before they hung up.
“Wassup, cuz. You smokin yet?” Money asked as he lit the blunt he’d just finished rolling.
“Nigga, why wouldn’t I be?” DeMarco replied as his cell phone rang. “Yo, who dis?”
“Um, can I speak