CALL ME DADDY

This girl is a bitch. Fucking bitch.

My name is Raun Shengan, but you can call me Nath. That's what my homeboys started calling me because they couldn't pronounce my name, so I got an English one. I'm from China, but I've been in America most of my life. I attended Peachers University. I turned twenty-five that October. I lived in a condominium in an estate at the city center, not too far from school, while my family stayed in Houston.

I'd been at the school for two years but hadn't found anything different or any moments worth holding dear. The exceptions were during games when my bros and I played basketball, watched a match at the school field, or played COD in my room.

I can't say the same for my guys, though. Those dudes were literally male whores. Can you believe they had nothing less than eight girlfriends each? Every girl had her own unique style, shape, and the particular excitement she gave them.

Take this girl Ann, for example. She was tall, dark skinned, with perfect tits, a soft ass, and likable hips oh my God. Her eyes were round like a cat's with pure black pupils. She had slim legs, and her style was top notch. She always wore skimpy dresses to show off her full potential.

If she weren't Mike's girl, I swear I would have bent her over and fucked her hard until she came to the rhythm of my name. I'd literally lick my lips whenever I thought of her. The sad part was, I was a homeboy. I couldn't make a move on my guy's girl. Plus, the way Mike looked at her… I was sure it was more than a fling. He took care of her more than the others. He bought her random gifts, took her to the movies, sent her pink roses for no reason, got her favorite ice cream during summer, and unintentionally mentioned her name over and over when we were playing COD.

There was this one day. The game was heated; it was a match between Mike and me. I won the first round, and after it ended, Mike said, "Let's play again. Ann will be sad if she sees me lose."

Okayyyyy. I don't have an Ann, so nobody will be sad even if I lose the entire game. But here was this dude capping. I'm sure that bitch was out there having the time of her life, swimming with her girls or doing whatever. I mean, DAWG, SHUT THE FUCK UP, you freaking loser!!! I thought silently.

We played again, and he still lost. It's not like I'm exceptionally good it's just that dude was distracted all day, thinking about that bitch Ann and how to make her happy.

Yes, I called her a bitch. Because how could a normal girl make me fight so hard with my own thoughts just to stop myself from devouring her in my imagination? She is a fucking bitch. I hate how she made me feel. I hate that she was so sexy… Bitch! Bitch!! Bitch!!! I just hoped she wouldn't become a problem between Mike and me.

I was thinking about the devil incarnate bitch, and then she arrived.

She was wearing a fishnet top with an overly mini skirt and just a bra top for crying out loud, just a bra top, nothing underneath and her nipple was pointing at me like, "Come on, Nathy. Taste me."

Shit!!! My imagination was running wild again.

She said hi to me and then went to hug Mike. I'm sure you think I didn't deserve a hug too, but I did. I deserved it. All good, though.

She sat on Mike's lap, draped her long slender hands with polished nails over his shoulders, grabbed his face, and sucked his lips aggressively. She went ahead to unbutton his shirt, bit his neck, and squeezed his chest…

Noooooooooo! I couldn't stay there and let them torture me. I was done. I'd rather go back to my room and sleep or head to the field to watch the ongoing match.

"Yeah, good night, fornicators," I muttered, and I left.