The soft moonlight crept in through the cracks of the blinds. The cold wind pounded the door, like my uncle pounded my cheeks when I was 11. A cold breeze made my ball hairs stand on end. "Surely" I thought to myself, "it couldn't be him yet".
Ach go tobann, the glass of 3 day old milk that was now semi-solid began to quiver sensually. I drew my blinds, only to find I didn't own fucking windows. I began to panic as my situation grew dire. Sweat started to form on my forehead as my gaze darted left to right, frantically analyzing my assortment of space age ass drills for any form of danger. Then, out of the reflection of my rectum redesigner™️ I spotted a large, hovering silhouette in my one room bachelor pad.
I turned, faster than a spreading asshole to face my soon to be prostate prober. "Reveal yourself, or face the wrath of my member" I announced to the figure. They slowly emerged, bellend first, until their full forme had been revealed. "Sharpeisha" I said calmly, all too familiar with what was about to happen.
"Mmmmhmmm baby you better prepare yo bootyho cos this donuts lookin to get dunked ya hear me?" He bellowed with the fierceness of at least 7 qweens, fingers snapping all the while.
Before I even had the chance to present an argument, sharpeisha had Peter clasped in his steely grip. He worked his wrist, similar in motion to how one might grind salt, aggressive yet intimate all the same. Then, without any words he grabbed my hair and slammed me over my limited edition table-sized signed copy of the Bible and teased my ass with his throbbing barbecue sauce covered inflatable poo-jabber. I let out a whimper as I felt him enter me. My mind cloudy, I attempted to communicate, but all that would come out was "and they don't stop coming and they don't stop coming and they don't stop coming"
I moved against his rhythm, determined to draw out his orgasm. Part of me wished to please him, part of me jus wanted to let a fat nigga buss his hot nasty load I mo shitbox.
His strokes accelerated. This was it. His grip around my waist tightened as he began to slow again, filling my man-oven with his baby gravy. And with that his presence faded, and I was left with just a gaping asshole and the memory of his heavy breathing, cos he's a fat cunt
