complains.
“I’ma tell you what’s not funny,” Blake says in a serious tone. “It’s not funny when people all over Philly know all about your bad habit.”
I’m wondering if Munch is a heroin addict. And did he getsomething off a dirty needle? “Yo, somebody needs to tell me something,” I blurt out. “No disrespect, Munch, but I don’t wanna smoke behind you either, if you got that monster!”
“I ain’t got no HIV.”
“Oh, okay,” I mutter, feeling relieved.
“Tell him whatchu got,” Blake prods.
“I ain’t got nothing!”
“Yeah, aye. Tell him what you had.”
“It ain’t his business.”
“What did he have?” I ask, urgently. These two niggas is crazy. Both of ’em are starting to remind me of the backwoods lunatics you see in horror films.
“Munch got his name from munching on a whole lot of different pussies—”
“Say whaaat?” I turn all the way around and gawk at Munch.
“Not a whole lot of different ones,” Munch says to his defense.
“Eating three or four strange pussies a day is a whole lot. Nasty ass!”
“You don’t think it’s nasty when I’m doing it for you.”
Huh! I look from Munch to Blake, thinking these weirdo niggas are really on that shit! I’m seriously considering bailing out of this car. Fuck the strippers. I’ll check them out on my own dime. I can go to the strip club by myself as soon as Evette gets paid.
Blake passes me the blunt, but now I’m leery about his and Munch’s homo activities, and I refuse to take it. “Nah, I don’t want no more. I’m good,” I tell him.
“Man, don’t listen to Munch. He don’t do nothing he don’t wanna do.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Y’all homos?”
“Hell, no!” Blake explodes into laughter. “I bring Munch along whenever I need him to handle the foreplay on the bitches I be fucking. That’s how we get down.”
I’m still confused, but extremely intrigued. “What does Munch do?” I crane my neck and give Munch another questioning look. His expression is rather sheepish, but I also see a trace of pride. Now, I’m finally getting the full picture. Munch is a little slow. Mentally delayed. And I don’t know why Blake is even fucking with the bull, but I don’t roll with niggas that used to ride the little school bus.
“Munch has a bad pussy-eating habit. He’s addicted. You know what I’m saying?”
“Nah, whatchu mean?” I respond.
“I mean, Munch gotta eat pussy all the time. He craves it.”
I peep Munch again, and that twisted son of a bitch is in the backseat smiling and nodding his head about his nasty addiction.
“Munch is my man from ever since we were kids. So I look out for him. Every now and then, I run across an extra freaky bitch, and I convince her to let Munch give her some oral before I fuck her. By the time he’s done slurping on that pussy, my dick gon’ slide right in!”
CHAPTER 19
N ow my interest is piqued. My wheels are spinning. I don’t know how I feel about Munch and Blake’s arrangement, but the idea is stirring something inside me. I decide to ask some more questions. “So what does Munch get out of the arrangement? Does he get sloppy seconds after you smash?”
Blake frowns and shakes his head. “Munch don’t care about fucking.”
“While Blake is smashing, I jack off,” Munch volunteers.
Blake nods his head. “See, I told you, man. Munch and I ain’t into any homo behavior. The problem that I have with Munch is that he done went buck wild with his oral actions. Women all over the city are passing his number around. On the weekends, when the clubs let out, bitches be hitting Munch up like crazy. All of ’em wanting they pussies ate before they call it a night. And Munch don’t even make the bitches come to him. He goes out of his way…hooking up with females in the parking lot of the club they just left. One night he gobbled up three pussies out of one car, and four pussies out of another.”
“Umph!” I
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