She's Daddy novel Chapter 1

“This party lit as fuck yo!” Cleo, my best friend yells from beside me before moving her hips in an off beat hip bump and waving her hands like she just didn’t care. I did.

“Boy calm yo ass down. I actually wanna look attractive to bitches.”

I mean, I agreed with her about the littiness of the party but some things were just not to be witnessed by the eyes of motherfuckers that never signed up to tolerate your bullshit and her so called ‘signature move’ was one of them. She called it a double whip but it looks like she was holding out an offering to some deity and being electrocuted. Slowly. I still don’t understand how any mudafucker could shake so badly while doing it so slowly as well. Cleo scoffs.

“Oh please. I don’t need to try to pull females. They know I got it. You on the other hand.” She smirks at me and I snorted. Like I wasn’t the finest piece of premium shit on this side of planet earth. “Bitch please. I’m the looks and brains of this operation. You just here to make sure nobody beat me up. Now cut that shit out. You look like someone put an eel in your pants and asked to to ride the back of a drunk kangaroo. Behave! There are bitches here.” Cleo snorted “Bitch, they bitches everywhere.”

“I know Cleopatra the Third.” I smirk at the glare she shoots my way for using her full name. People really out here naming their kids with roman numerals but okay. “But some of these bitches practically naked!”

I find them out in the packed room with my eyes and they weren’t hard to spot. For one thing, they walked around the room in very tiny bikinis and heels serving drinks and cocktails to various guests. Cleo laughs at my staring but doesn’t reply. My gaze whips over to her when I heard the telltale signs of a lighter being clicked. Kinda like spidey senses being tickled. She’s right there dragging on a blunt that I stare at with almost as much awe as I stared at the women earlier. Honestly, if I had to choose between weed, food and pussy… I suppose logically food would have to win but I dead ass could not imagine living without the other two. They mean so damn much to me. So, so much. I lick my lips.

“Yo Cleo─”

“No.”

“Man C’mon─”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I wanna─”

“I ain’t giving you my weed mudafucker.” I scowl at her and she gives me a deadpan stare. “Maybe next time you won’t clown your bestest friend Cleo about her admittedly improvable but definitely cute dancing.” She gives me a little glare. I sigh. So we were gonna have to do this the hard way huh? I stand there for a moment and let her re-spark her blunt. Before she could pull on in I swipe it from between her lips and held it triumphantly between my fingers.

“What the fuck bruh! Why the fuck would you do that?”

I shrugged “Yo ass was being greedy.”

“And yours is gon’ be kicked all the way down to Florida if you don’t give me Shaniqua back!”

I snort at the latest name for her roll and take a deep draw. I love the first hit I get from a good blunt. That mild buzz that tingles at the edges of your mind as the smoke fills your lungs and starts your journey to being fucked up. I let out a stream of smoke into the air above our heads. Or above my head. Cleo was several inches taller than me at five seven, what she called normal people height so the smoke ended up more in her face. Instead of the angry outburst I was expecting, Cleo looked at something above my shoulder and her eyes unfocused. I turned my head to the side to catch this girl with a fat as hell ass twerking to the Tyga song playing out the speakers. For a moment, I too was distracted from my objective of getting high and irritating Cleo. It was what I liked to call an asstounding moment.

“Damn. When Chantel throw a party she do not play.”

“That I don’t.”

I only just barely refrained from jumping at the voice that came up behind us but Cleo didn’t and I took great pleasure in pointing and laughing at her ass. She just scowled at me and greeted the new comer with as much dignity as she could muster after flailing like a little bitch.

“Chantel.” Cleo glanced at our host and did a quick double take. “Damn girl. You looking hella fine tonight.”

I could not agree more. Chantel was dressed in some kind of flowing lavender kimono style robe tied loosely about her waist. A dark purple bikini flashed underneath accentuating her brown skin. Her thick curly hair was loose and framed her face. Chantel Browning was a fine as fuck but then everyone who had eyes already knew that. She also threw the best parties on this side of Atlanta. I’ve been in a club where YK Osiris shut the whole place down and I hadn’t had as much fun as I usually did at one of Chantel’s things. She was one of my more classier friends and by classy I mean rich enough to afford some things I could only still dream of. We’d gone to the same high school and even though we never really ran in the same circles we’ve always pretty much kept in touch. At first it was because of the whole ‘only black lesbians in high school’ thing but I dead ass like her energy and I guess she likes mine cause we see each other often. Not as much as I see Cleo though, that nigga pretty much lives with me. Chantel is a model (not surprising considering the nubian goddess look she has going for her) and she’d only just gotten back from an almost two month trip abroad. Cat walks and shows and shoots and things that blew my fucking mind. Not for the first time, I wondered if I should change my line of work and start modelling as well. I do after all got a lot of that pretty boi vibe thing going for me and it definitely looked like it paid better than Wyatt’s Automobiles. And yes, the place is as fucking pretentious as it sounds.

Chantel flashed her pearly whites at us and I felt Cleo shift beside me. I managed to hold back my smirk. Mostly. “Thanks baby girl.” If Cleo was light-skinned like I was, I’m sure she would have blushed. She could always talk smack about ‘pulling bitches’ and ‘fucking hoes’ but throw a pretty shawty in her face and she turns to a shy mess. Its kinda endearing if a teensy bit pathetic but of course I don’t tell her that.

“You can eye fuck the strippers all you want. Just remember the no hands rule.”

Cleo and I both held up our hands to prove they were, indeed, stripper free.

“Speaking of strippers.” Cleo dropped her hands and tried to find some of her cool while I returned to my blunt.

“Who the lil mama with the ass?” We all turned back to the twerker who was now grinding on another girl in clothes just as tight as her own spandex.

“Who? Brittany?” Cleo nodded eagerly. “She gay? Bi?” I mean, judging from the way she was grinding on the hottie behind her…?

Chantel laughed. “Almost everyone in here is. Well. At least all the females but the straight niggas chill too.” She gave Cleo a look. “You gonna go over there and talk to Brit?”

Cleo fumbled again and grimaced. “I mean, maybe you could gimme her number and I’ll hit her up later?” She looked hopefully at Chantel who shook her head. “She’s standing right there bruh. If you want her number go ask for it.”

Cleo looks to me. I shrug. Shawty was fine but I wasn’t all that interested in her. There was someone in particular I was looking for. I hadn’t seen her yet but I was sure she’d be around here somewhere.

“Tell you what. I’ll go introduce y’all. Brit is actually kinda nice.” I snorted because that was probably code for ‘she won’t laugh in your face if you drag your bum ass over to ask for her number’. Chantel’s eyes snap to me and I gave her my best innocent look before drawing my blunt and minding my business. “Look. Why don’t I take you over there and introduce you─”

“Yo. Hold on. Before you attend to Ms. Smoothless─” “Hey!” Cleo protests but I ignore her. “─You seen Angie?”

Chantel makes a face. “Why the fuck you so set on that bitch? I already told you she a hoe.”

An image of Angie’s perfect tits bouncing wildly while I fucked her with my strap on flashed through my mind and for a moment I was thrown back to that hot, erotic moment. I just smiled at Chantel and she shook her head. “Ugh. Why do I even bother? You a hoe too. She’s upstairs in the game room. Have at it.”

“My humblest thanks.” I put in a short bow for effect and head upstairs to find my girl. “Remember to always use a condom. You don’t know where that coochie’s been.” Chantel calls after me and I raise my middle finger at her without bothering to turn back. I’ve been sorta ‘seeing’ Angie the past couple of weeks. She’s exactly my type; short, thick, always decked out in them tight ass clothes that showed off her figure with her make up fixed to perfection. Her personality wasn’t all that special but I’ve definitely been with dumber bitches. Chantel was right though; bad as she was, shawty a hoe and I know it. I don’t even mean hoe like fucks around a lot. I mean like bill you six grand for the weekend with a little extra if you’re coming with a friend.

Somehow, I’d talked her into giving me the pussy for free. Good thing too since I didn’t have six grand to spend on a vagina that wasn’t even mine. Wyatt’s Automobiles unfortunately just don’t offer those kinda benefits but I make a mental note to suggest it to Denny, my Branch manager when I go to work on Monday. Chantel thought I should get in a relationship with someone a little less ‘hoe-ish’ but I didn’t want a damn relationship. I want Angie to bounce on my dick with her boobs all up in my face and she does. Who the fuck cares if she’s not exactly the bring her home to your mama type? Chantel could go suck it. I smoke the rest of my (formerly Cleo’s) blunt as I climb up the stairs. Upstairs is a little less packed than downstairs. Chantel’s apartment is so cool. It has this open aired, modern concept with all the polished hardwood and monochrome steel but its the designing that makes it pop. Its so… diverse. On one hand they’re are warm, homey feminine things like her plush couches and feathered throw pillows downstairs with the dope ass electric fireplace and her pictures hanging all around. But then there’s also this bachelor pad feel to it and it shows once I get upstairs.

There’s a huge television mounted on one side of the wall with bean bag littered in front of it. All the bean bags were occupied, mostly with couple pairings and some niggas were playing Call of Duty on the wide screen. The other side of the open space holds a pool board and another table filled with snacks and drinks. That’s where I find Angie, standing with some other bad ass bitches and saying something they were all paying attention to. Shit. Her parse didn’t really like me. Apparently they didn’t understand why their homegirl was ‘wasting her time with a broke nigga like me.’ I’d told Sierra, the friend, that I’d show her if she spread her legs. Weirdly that hadn’t made our relationship any better. Coco spots me first and must’ve whispered something to Angie because she turned and was suddenly facing me. I ignore the other bitches and focus on her and goddamn she’s fine. I don’t give a shit that she’s ‘a hoe’. At least she a first class hoe. Angie does effortlessly what the bitches behind try so hard at; look sexy.

She’s five four, the same height as I am but decked out in those high ass stilleto’s, she’s much taller. Her hair today is some sort of reddish copper that falls straight down her sides and she’s wearing a tiny black dress that seemed to be made entirely out of straps. I was definitely liking the aesthetic even as I winced at the thought of how uncomfortable it must be. Could she breathe in that thing? Weren’t her feet killing her? And most importantly, how the fuck was I gonna get that damn dress off?

She smiled coyly at me and I forgot all my questions and let my libido pull me forward making sure to put in that cocky swagger I know looked good on me. Her friends roll their eyes but Angie is definitely feeling it so you I ignore em.

“Wassup ma.”

I walk right up into her personal space till she’s pressed up against me and slide my arms around her waist settling my fingers on the swell of her ass. I can feel bits of soft skin in between the cloth straps and its fucking hot as shit. “Hi daddy.” She whispers in my ear and tilts her head town to kiss my neck. My arms tightened around her in response.

Angie and I started with the offhand dm I’d sent to her about a month ago. She’d replied with ‘lol you’re cute.’ and after a couple of dates and hot ass sex on multiple occasions, here we are. We weren’t really a thing so Chantel didn’t need to worry that I would go cuffing her. I doubted Angie really wanted to date a stud anyways and I sure as hell didn’t want my girlfriend selling pussy (No hate but I just don’t) so our casual arrangement was good as hell. I hadn’t seen her in a week though and my body responded to the feel of her here in my arms.