Saturday, June 27, 2015

"Bitch, No. I keep my Fuck for my Wimmen!"


We are at the apartment of the Neo-Nazi Girlfriend who Is Not My Girlfriend engaging in anal sex on her futon when she asks me:

"When we have anal sex do you sometimes imagine that I am a man, or maybe a small boy?"

"No, no I don't" I say sternly.

"Blacker" she replies. When we have sex she prefers me to Talk Black; I have explained this before.

"Bitch, No. I keep my Fuck for my Wimmen!"

"Because if you were imaging a man or boy I'm wondering what they would look like."

"Bitch, don't make me slap dat azz!"

With this she wiggles her rear a bit, so: I slap dat azz.

"Harder! Harder, Black Man!"

So: I slap harder. Kinda liked it.

"I've been having anal sex since I was fourteen and no man will admit to picturing another man. Or small boy."

"Maybe that's because we don't, Ho." Perhaps I am pounding her ass a bit harder as this conversation progresses, or maybe I am just thinking that I am. I try to reassert my attention to my penis.

"Wouldn't it be funny if you were fucking me in the ass but thinking of Opie from the 'Andy Griffith' Show? That you were giving Opie a good hard pounding in the ass?"

"Bitch, That's Sick Shit!" I say as she whistles the "Andy Griffith" theme.

"OK. Maybe you are picturing a little girl that LOOKS like Opie. Is that better?"

"I am fucking YOU in the ass: not Opie, not a little girl that looks like Opie: You."

"It's funny: the guy who first fucked me in the ass at fourteen -- HE  kinda did look like Opie, a little bit."

"Shit, girl..."

"C'mon, baby: Mama says fuck Opie a little harder."

So I fucked Opie a little harder. 

And tried to stop picturing his face. His sweet, innocent freckled face: I am ashamed for an orgasm that hasn't even happened yet.

I am Laslo.



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