G-Spot by Noire Page A

even handle me,” I confided. “That’s why I wanna go to this party. I’m tired of wanting what I can’t get. My friend Rita said they sell shit that’ll make you not need no man.”
    “Please!” Dicey laughed and turned toward the kitchen with our paper plates in her hand. “They ain’t invented nothin that can take the place of a hard hot dick drilling up in you, but you should be able to find something that’ll come in second place. But why settle for all them tools when you got a real live nigger in your bed every night? either take charge and make G fuck you right, or go find you some dick you can live with.”
    She paused in the doorway. “On second thought, scratch that. G can be a maniac over his pussy—just ask them niggers down at the Spot. You better go to that party on Saturday and stock up, baby girl. Matter fact, if I don’t have to work I might just roll out with you.”
     
    G ruled his empire with an iron fist, and if he came off as ruthless it was because the streets were hard. But sometimes he was stank and nasty for no good reason at all, and the way he did poor Nae-Nae that time just didn’t make no sense.
    Nae-Nae was one of the younger girls who stripped at the Spot. Back in the day I used to see her walking with her sisters to the public school we went to a few blocks from my house. When I was in the third grade the school was closed down because of some hazardous stuff in the insulation, and while me and Jimmy got transferred to another school right up the street, Nae-Nae and her sisters got sent to a school way across town.
    Nae-Nae was a year older than me, and when she showed up at the Spot a few months earlier she tried to front like she didn’t know me. I didn’t press her though. From what I remembered she came from a quiet, churchified family, and I figured she was ashamed for me to see her humping poles and giving lap dances all night long.
    I had no idea what had happened to her sisters or the rest of her family, but Harlem had gotten to Nae-Nae, and she looked just like a lot of turned-out sistahs who didn’t have anything except their asses to fall back on.
    One night Nae-Nae came to work carrying a baby on her hip. I was in my usual spot, chilling at the bar shooting the shit with Moonie while Cooter smiled and stuttered all over the customers and poured their liquor. Nae-Nae walked past so fast I barely even noticed her, but a minute later there was such a commotion coming from the dressing room that Moonie told me to go back there and find out what the girls were doing.
    “Look at him.” Punanee was grinning at what Nae-Nae was holding in her arms. “all that curly hair and just as cute as he wanna be!”
    I stepped through the crowd to see what they were all freaking out over and saw the cutest, fattest baby I’d ever seen in my life. He was past handsome. This baby had dimples everywhere and the biggest prettiest eyes in his little butterscotch face that you ever did see.
    “Whose baby?” I asked, and daggone if that little fat butterball didn’t try to jump out of Nae-Nae’s arms and into mine. He stretched his little chubby arms out for me to take him, opening and closing his hands and grinning at me the whole time.
    “Mine,” Nae-Nae said, passing him to me. “This is Maleek. My little man.”
    I took that handful of fat and dimples into my arms and almost melted, he felt so good pressed against me. His curly hair smelled just like baby lotion and he was clean and fresh like he had just came out of the bath.
    “Oh, Nae-Nae,” I said jealously, hefting him in my arms and squeezing one of his ham hock thighs. “He is too fine. How old is he?”
    “Seven months,” she said smiling at him. His chin was wet with baby slobber and I wanted to kiss it off. Fifty million hands were reaching for the baby, hoes and strippers totally sprung over his fat cheeks and dimpled grin. I passed Maleek off to the next sister and stood back watching as almost every chick