Crack Hoes

I’m sore today. Gabriel challenged me last night. He swears he can bust at least five nuts in one sitting.

He can.

“There is something wrong with you. You know that, right?” I asked. “I have better sex at 38 than I did at 28 and it’s all because of you.”

“Oh sexy, that’s nothing. Back in the day when I banged girls I could go all night.”

“So you really are attracted to both men and women?”

“I’ll never date another woman. The sex is good, but it’s putting up with them after the sex is over that causes me to go soft.”

“Did you ever think you just messed with the wrong females?”

“There’s no doubt about that. Me and my crew gang- banged crack whores back when the drug first hit the streets. It was unreal—I mean, those addicts were da bomb in high school. You know-- the pretty girls in class who would never give you the time of day in the 10th grade. When they grew up and got on that crack they couldn’t get enough sex so me and my boys helped to calm their uncontrollable addiction. We took turns screwing them all night long and they never wanted us to stop.”

“You’re nasty and vulgar,” I said as I pulled Link’s nails from the sofa and told the cat “No, no!” I carried him over to his scratch post seasoned with catnip and he lost his desire to continue scratching.

“Ready for another round?” I asked.

“I’ll suck you for a dollar and more stories of crack hoes.”

My tight ass lover pulled a ten from his wallet and asked me if I could do those cheers that cheerleaders do in high school. “I grabbed two pillows, shook them like pom-poms, put them on the floor and buried my face like a crack hoe.”