10:00 P.M.
“Toya, hurry your ass up in the bathroom, we already late!” I said to her from the bedroom. We were at my house and I was supposed to be making my entrance at 10:00, but Toya’s makeup and shit took longer than expected, so now I was in the room waiting for her to hurry up, so we wouldn’t be that damn late. I swear I felt like it was her damn birthday today instead of mine.
Even though she surprised me with breakfast in bed, she still was the one who ended up being pleasured because I ate the fuck out of her pussy this morning, plus her ass had been getting catered to all damn day. I had appointments set for her to get a wax, hair, nails, feet, and makeup done. I’m sorry, but I needed my baby to match my fly tonight, and I wanted her to be the baddest bitch in the building.
Three hundred and sixty-five days out of the year, a nigga is always fresh, but I have to say that tonight a nigga was dressed to kill. This was probably the first time in my life that I dressed up clean like this because I normally was a casual guy. But tonight, I decided to step things up a notch. I was on my grown man shit, wearing a three-piece crème and black suit from Tom Ford,
with a pair of Top Daviol dress shoes from Christian Louboutin. My hair was freshly cut, mustache and chin hair was neatly trimmed. I was wearing my 14K yellow gold Rolex design diamond ring, with the matching chain and square link, and of course, I had my golds in my mouth.
Toya stepped out of the bathroom and I swear she was giving Beyoncé, Nicki Minaj, and all of these beautiful females in the industry a run for their money. I knew what the fuck I was doing when I picked out this outfit. I had my baby decked out in a skin tight gold bandage high waist skirt and a tan fur vest, with nothing underneath it, so the front of her breasts were pretty much exposed, but the nipples weren’t showing. I had to have her jewelry on point as well, which is why she was rocking a 18K pink gold Cartier necklace with the matching bracelet. Again, it’s not even lil mama birthday, and I had dropped more bands on her jewelry than I did on mine. I had her in a pair of six-inch gold pumps from Louboutin as well, and my baby was rocking the curls how I liked it.
The sexy look that she was giving me right now, I’m quite sure that I was giving her the same because my baby was looking too damn good for words.
“If you don’t want to fuck up your panties, you better take them off,” I told her because I’m pretty sure I had her ass creaming.
She walked over to me and wrapped her arms around my neck, and I kissed her lips. I swear she was my own life sized Barbie.
“You just think you got it like that, huh?” she said.
I nodded my head. “I don’t think, I know. You look so fuckin good by the way, and I can’t wait to do all types of nasty shit to your body tonight,” I told her.
She reached down and grabbed my dick. “Why don’t we just skip the party and you can start doing those nasty things to me right now then,” she suggested.
As tempting as it sounded, I wanted to at least get a couple of hours in at the strip club. Besides, I was making an appearance there, and I didn’t want people to think I was flaw for not showing up.
“We don’t even have to stay a long time, baby. Two hours max. Come on, let’s go,” I said, pulling her out of the room.
We walked downstairs. I set the alarm to the house and picked up our overnight bag that was sitting by the floor. Toya had packed it earlier this afternoon since we weren’t coming back home tonight. We made our way outside and Toya quickly turned around and looked at me once she saw that my white Camaro wasn’t parked in its usual parking spot. Instead, my new Toya was parked there.
“Baby, where’s your car?”
I pulled out the keys to the car that was parked, pressed the button, and watched as the car started.
“Wow, this is yours? It’s beautiful,” Toya said, admiring my new 2016, Ferrari 488GTB.
“I don’t know which one is prettier, you or her,” I said.
Toya gave me the finger while still admiring my car. As a little boy, I would always talk about how when I got rich, I was going to buy myself a damn Ferrari. Don’t get me wrong, I had the money to get it before I went to jail, but a nigga couldn’t chance riding around in a $242,737-dollar car paid for with dope money, which is why I never bought the shit. Back then, the cops stayed on my ass, so if I were to buy a luxury ass car like this, it would be too risky, so I just stuck with my Camaro. But now that I was doing things the legit way, I could buy a damn jet if I wanted to.
“I ain’t even think about it, baby, but you’re going to have to hold the bag in your lap cuz it doesn’t have a back seat,” I told Toya, and she was cool with it.
After I put her in the car and made sure she was straight, I went over and got in on my side. Her ass better hold on tight because I was about to take off in this bad boy.
“Where is your Camaro?” she asked, once we jumped on 95.
“At Quan’s house. He went with me earlier to pick this up, and he drove the Camaro back to his crib. But I’ll go and pick it up in the morning,” I said.
For the rest of the ride, I turned the music up full blast and drove without a care in the world. I looked over at Toya and she didn’t even look scared by my driving, in fact she looked relaxed and that’s how I always wanted her to be when she was with a nigga. I wanted her to know that I would always protect her when she was with me, and that I would never let anything happen to her ass.
Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to the club and me being the arrogant nigga that I am, I pulled my car right in the front. “You ready, baby?” I asked her and she nodded her head.
I stepped out and then went over and helped her out of the car. People were staring at us like we were the hood Obamas. Niggas were walking up and giving me dap, bitches were staring at my girl with envy, and I was loving every minute of it.
“Dre, my man! Happy birthday, nigga,” my man Scooby from back in the day said as soon as we reached the front of the line. He was doing security tonight and from what I heard, his ass had been working there for the past five years or so.
“Thanks, homie,” I said, giving him dap.
I had to slide his ass an extra two hundred dollars so that I could get into the club with my burner. I had to have the shit on my hip, or else I wouldn’t feel right. We walked into the club and the DJ was playing me and Quan’s new song, “She Gotta Go.”