When I finished wipin’ all the evidence off the corpse sprawled out in the middle of the bed with his dick slick from his own juices, I pulled the sheets from underneath him, rolled them up in a tight ball, then stuffed them in a bag. I glanced at the nigga lyin’ on the bare mattress one last time before pickin’ the spread up from off the floor, then tossin’ it over his body. I had seen enough, and needed to get the hell outta there. I had about twenty minutes before the “clean-up” crew came through to dispose of the body, or do whatever the fuck else it is they did. I just knew I wasn’t trustin’ no niggas I didn’t know or hadn’t seen before to make sure my fingaprints and pussy juice wasn’t still lingerin’ all over the place.

I went into the bathroom, wiped my soakin’ wet pussy with some tissue, then used several baby wipes to give myself a whore bath. When I was done, I quickly dressed, slipped on my white gloves, then slid my feet into my Jimmy Choo mules. I straightened my burgundy wig, then applied a fresh coat of burgundy-wine lipstick to my full, soft, made-for-dick-suckin’ lips. Satisfied that everything was dusted off and in place, I shut off the bathroom light, then strutted toward the door. On my way out, I caught my reflection in the mirror and almost didn’t like what I saw starin’ back at me: the slanted, eyes of a cold-blooded killa. I shook the image from my mind, and pressed out the door and toward the elevators.

Growin’ up, a bitch had dreams. I dreamed dreams of bein’ rich. And baggin’ a fine-ass hood nigga with a big black dick and fat pockets who would love me, and fuck me, and get me far the fuck away from the roaches that crawled all over the walls and from all the dirty dishes that overflowed in the sink ’cause my moms was too motherfuckin’ stressed ’bout life and no-good muhfuckas to ever give a fuck ’bout what I was doin’. I dreamed dreams of being loved and wanted and needed ’cause a bitch was special. But then I woke the fuck up and realized that dreams ain’t real, and that love won’t always love you back, and that the only way to keep the dirty-ass nigga with his nasty-ass fingers and grimy-ass hands off ya ass and titties, the only way to keep the duck-ass nigga from smackin’ ya moms up, was to stretch his ass.