"Uh...Excuse me, miss," the light-brown, slim-built dude with long dreads said, approaching the bent over cutie with the rotund rump wiggling from side to side.
"Yes," the rich chocolate vixen stood up.
He studied the angel from head to toe. "Ohhhhh. My bad...I thought you was..."
"A girl," the effeminate dude giggled. "What made you decide I wasn't," he smiled.
"Uhhhh...I mean...uh..."
"Look I'm not offended I was just curious."
"You still look like a chick for real with all that ass. But I guess I noticed the flat chest and you kinda got a bulge in the front."
"Oh yeah! I do. I'm glad you like my booty,"replied the guy with the low top, bottle blond haircut.
"I ain't gay or nothing," the other guy protested.
"I didn't say you were," he winked. "I'm Strawberry. What's your name?"
"I'm D. Hey," he darted his eyes around. "Go into that bathroom behind you to the left. I'll come in a couple minutes after you."
"Okay!"
Strawberry turned and walked away. He made sure to sashay quite noticeably. His thirty-six inch derriere shook vigorously.
The otherwise straight man watched discreetly until Strawberry disappeared. Then he slowly strolled towards the restroom pavilion.
"Sup," D said.
"You," smirked Strawberry.
"Mane...That ass phat! How you get it like that?"
"I got some ass shots," admitted the slightly shorter fellow.
"Damn!"
"Touch it!"
"Fuck, nigga! That shit feel like two big ol' marshmallows."
"Tee hee! Thank you! You should come to my room and chill."
"Oh. You got a telly?"
"Yeah. At the Royal Court on Lenoir."
"I know where that is. I just got off work. Was gonna go for a run. But shit...What we gon' do?"
"We can just chill. Maybe have a drink. You smoke?"
"Yeah! But I ain't got none on me."
"I got you."
"Say less."
"Follow me. I'm in a red Mustang."
"Bet. I got a gold Tahoe."
Strawberry locked D's number into his phone and pulled down his leggings to reveal his naked badonkadonk.
"You crazy," he cawed, smacking the plump rear-end in front of him. "Get outta here. I'm finna be right behind you."
They made it to the motel and Deion studied the hefty booty bottom boy as he walked to the door. Inside the room. Strawberry told him it would be just a couple of moments to get freshened up. He also advised his guest that he could help himself to anything to drink in the mini fridge.
Deion checked to see what Strawberry wanted. He then fixed himself some Paul Masson and Coke and some vodka with orange juice for the host.
He scrolled through social media while he waited for Strawberry to complete the beautification ritual.
"I'm ready," Strawberry announced, walking out of the bathroom.
Deion just sat there. Slack-jawed. Staring.
"You okay?"
"Y-Yeah! Damn! You look good as hell!"
"Thank you!"