When I’m out in public, I never flirt with or hit on women.
Instead, I gaze at them and size the opposite sex up.
I wonder if that one right there takes dick up her ass, or that one over there swallows?
Yes, I converse with myself.
I even fathom about how this woman or that one would react to oral pussy-and-ass taunting.
There’s sexiness in mystery, the not knowing of how a woman responds to sexual stimuli. And, for a man that’s as obtuse as I am at times with no tact at all, I’m quite proud of my abilities of restraint.
To say nothing even though a perfect set of asscheeks tempt my eyes and savage erection says a lot.
Instead of spilling the beans for naught, I pull out my trusty phone and pen another piece of literature, the most heinous and deviant ones I can cultivate.
My detestable offerings are sinister and evil at times, but they’re of the lust-filled, cunny-involving persuasion. (At this juncture I won’t be participating in back-and-forth email rambling.) More so, I want to devastate that pussy and ass with my mouth.
Give a Nigga a cavity and plaque.
Flood my throat with that moist, tasty offering.
Give me a reason to sabotage your righteous, holy ways.
I’m telling you right now: don’t come at me about how you’re just not that kind of girl, that you’re a Saint. I don’t want to hear such nonsense.
The sound I want my ears capturing are the ones of your panties and bra being hurled to the floor.
Toot that ass up in the air and be ready to accept my mug’s plate of treachery. This dish is served with wanton soup: you know, that flagrant mess.
Just in case you couldn’t quite gather up what I’m putting down: I’m about to make that pussy mushy, derelict and unable to speak (except for spicy dialogue with me.).
You won’t have control of your muff box anymore. The back and forth swayings of my articulator rummaging through your rear end is a welcoming posture also.
Oh, how you fight to hold the tasty awakening at bay, but you simply don’t have the skills. You invite my taste bud back for more consumption of your buffet.
I’m affixing my bearing to your rear end, and I’m smearing my name on it.
I’ve come in from the rain after spending hours out on the town staring at women’s plush hinies once more.
You can say I’m quite revved up and in need of relief.
But first, I’m taking care of your carpet. Remember, I’m Stanley Steam Cleaner, so I’m supplying that floor with a heated-up scrub. I scrape at your carpet with my tongue and teeth if you’re like my little buddy that prefers for me to bite that clit.
Some women desire that mouth ravaging roughly. Are you that chick?
We’ll get to know each other more.
You’ve vetted me; I guess that’s why I’m back. This is our second encounter. You’re here for more of my mouth rambling.
You’re back to get your backside soothed with this tongue in a box. I’m screening your ass now: filtering that tasty shit box with my oral junction.
There’s no need to think too much into this act; it’s simple animalistic behavior.
I’m rummaging through your booty hole like a homeless man stirs through garbage canisters in an urban sprawl in search for food.
This little ordeal is quite slouchy and disturbing, too. I’m searching the back halls of that butt hole holding ass bars open to dip into their haunts to dig around for anal oil. Once I’ve found what I’ve dug for, THERE WILL BE BLOOD.
Motherfuckers are going to fight for this rare ass. Townships will pay hitmen to acquire land that’s adjacent to this rump.
This is my posterior, though. And, trying to peel this thickly-shaped possession away from my clutches is almost impossible. It’s like a dark-skinned nigga winning The Presidency; it’s never happening.
I’m an ostrich with my head buried in the sand. To a commoner, I look ridiculous and socially awkward. But, only a sexahaulic knows the true value of my face pinned against your hindside’s trap door.
Damn, I miss being in the thick of it: LITERALLY!
I miss exposing your tail to my lukewarm mouth and oral members.
I miss that tail being submerged in my oral juices.
Your ass and pussy hole will become victims of my Mouth Trap: POOR SOULS!