Thursday, June 10, 2010

Sidenote: I'm SO...






Have you ever been so horny that you literally crave sex? STORY OF MY WEEK! I was so horny today; food didn’t even have a taste to it. It’s been about a good week since I’ve had the chance to bust a satisfactory nut. You know that nut you get after you do some edging for a while until you can’t STAND it anymore? Yep, it’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to. See, I’m on “vacation” right now in Kentucky; I’m staying with my favorite aunt and her daughter. The last time I was here, it was just my aunt and I—I was sleeping in the guest room—alone. All the nuts I wanted to bust in the world… but I can’t now because there’s always someone knocking on the damn door or wanting to “see what I’m doing” or something of the sort. So, since I can’t bust a good nut, I’ve been trying my best to put a cap on my hormones, but it feels like I’m a bottle of pop that has been shaken up—ready to explode any minute.

Well, my aunt convinced me to drive in this hot 90 degree Kentucky weather to the grocery store to get some ingredients for tonight’s dinner (which was off the damn HIZZY!). I’m in the pasta aisle, comparing sauces, when the store manager saw my indecisiveness and decided to help out. Now, let me say that it caught me off guard when he tapped me on my shoulder because, number one, it felt good—since my entire body has been one huge nerve, turned on by damn near anything, and two—he was so damn fine, it almost blinded me. “Sir, I’d go with the Ragu, its name brand, and it has better quality meat in it” he said through perfect pearl-white teeth that complimented the deep black skin of his face. “DAMN!” was the only word that my sex-conscious mind would allow. He made me so horny, it hurt. I just HAD to get some kind of a number or something from the guy. I don’t know if you’ve ever encountered a true-blood, thoroughbred, down south, Kentucky black man, but for those that have—they know what I’m saying.

I’m not promiscuous, but I’m a man nonetheless. After some light conversation, I found that he too was a poet and he invited me to an Open-Mic joint that he co-hosts on Saturdays. We exchanged contact info and we’ve been texting each other all day. As I’m writing this post, he just texted me and says “so, what does a guy have to do to get a guy like you?” So, you all know where it’s going from there, right? O yes, pics WILL be posted! Stay tuned!

Enjoy the pics, they’re metaphors of what I’m HOPING for by the end of this thing…

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