“Got damn, these hoes act like you a fuckin’ celebrity, nigga,”
I scratched my head. “Yeah, I know, right? The shit be getting on my nerves sometimes.”
“Shit, what nigga wouldn’t want a problem like that?”
I exhaled. “It’s cool, until it aint cool.”
“I hear you…but if I was you, I’d capitalize off the way them hoes move for you.”
“Capitalize how?” I hooded my eyes in confusion.
“Shit, put them gullible hoes to work. Stash my dope at their houses. Have them contributing to my hustle. Tell them to give me money to flip. Have them hoes using their Medicaid to get scripts from the doctors. You name it. Straight finesse.”
“I hear you.” I nodded, while stroking my chin. “I definitely hear you.”
“Yeah, okay.”
We wandered into Mike’s mama’s yard, and was greeted by familiar faces. Then my eyes landed on Shell.
“What up?” I gave her a head nod.
She was grinning from ear to ear. “Nothing. Just posted up here with my bitches.”
I lifted a brow. “Your bitches, huh?”
“Yep. It’s me. Le-Le, Tiffany, Dashia, and Raven.”
“Raven?” I frowned.
“Yep. She been in there dancing since we got here. You know how she do. Dancing like a stripper and shit.”
“A stripper?”
“Un-huh. Doing those splits she likes to do. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s doing a headstand by now.”
“Mannn,” I drawled, trying my best to remain calm.
At this point, I knew that Shell loved to exaggerate, but still. Raven did love to shake her ass. She could dance nastier than the best stripper around the city. And niggas loved a broad that could work their body like that. It made us wonder if she could fuck like that…and in Raven’s case, she could. I’m talking about a stone cold, nasty, flexible, freaky muthafucka. I’d taught her everything she knew, and then she’d mastered the shit. Which had me trying to keep her asslocked in the house, away from all these thirsty niggas. But that was nearly impossible, unless I stayed in the house with her.
“She in the house, you say?” I asked Shell.
“Yeah.”
I nodded, before glancing at TP. “Come on, let’s go in, and speak to the birthday boy.”
He nodded, before following me into the one-story brick house.
“I like ‘em hot. The ones that don’t tell me to stop…”
The Hot Boyz blasted from the speakers, which had the boppers going crazy. It seemed like everybody was bending it over.
“Damn!” TP shouted over the music. “This bitch is jumping!”
Tutu had basically removed most of the furniture and had turned the sizable living room into a dance floor. A deejay was at the back of the room, spinning the music, next to a oversized speaker. Thick weed smoke was floating in the air, while niggas were pretty much shoulder to shoulder. Still, I spotted her immediately.
Raven was standing next to Tiffany, wearing a red halter top that exposed most of her toned, muscular stomach. She was rocking dark blue denim booty shorts, with a thick red belt wrapped around her waist. Then on her feet were the Jordans that I’d just bought her. She wore her long hair bone straight with a part down the middle.
Knowing her, she probably wanted to blend in with the crowd, but that simply wasn’t possible. From that rich hue of brown, to her hair texture, she was different. Her almond shaped eyes were hypnotizing, and those ocean deep dimples were mesmerizing, while soft,natural baby hairs graced her gorgeous face. If that wasn’t enough, then she had the perfect body. Big perky titties. Flat stomach. Small waistline. Wide hips. Thick thighs. Running track bowlegs, and the fattest pussy print.
