Mea Culpa by Zane

Mea Culpa

This is my confession.

I'll admit it. I used to be one of the main people talking shit about trifling-ass men and how they can never manage to keep their dicks in their pants. All of my girlfriends, aunts, and female cousins had a variety of dogs lying up in their cribs. My aunt Delores had a black and tan coonhound named Thomas. Black hair, tan skin. He was powerful and agile, at times outgoing and stable, but when it came to keeping his dick in his pants, he was aggressive and vicious. He had something crazy like five kids outside of their eight-year relationship. I wondered when the hell he had time to fuck her if he was doing all that raw-dogging.

My cousin Sheila had a Brazilian Terrier named Davi, imported straight from Santa Catarina-they met while she was on vacation in Brazil. Once she moved his ass to the States, he became restless and started hunting small game, a.k.a. petite, thirsty chicks. Three weeks after she helped him obtain his green card, he left her for a four-foot-eleven, 90-pound, nineteen-year-old who, according to him, didn't have a gag reflex while sucking his dick like Sheila did. Can you imagine a man coming home and saying some shit like that while he is packing? He wouldn't have had to pack shit up in my crib; I would have tossed his ass right out the damn window!

Then there was the Alaskan Malamute my best friend, Judy, had on a leash for a hot second. She assumed that since his well-muscled, heavy-bone behind had spent his early years out in the middle of nowhere, chilling in igloos and riding bobsleds to school, that he would be devoted and trustworthy. Not! He was the alpha male of all motherfucking alpha males and when she bored him, he was prone to aggression. In other words, he started beating her ass. Now, by this point, she was completely dick-whipped and no one could tell her a thing about her relationship without practically getting their head snapped clean off. I spoke my mind once and left the entire display of "fuckery" alone. I loved my girl but if she wanted to deal with Kuvageegai-hell of a name, right?-instead of sending his ass back home to hunt seals, it was on her.

Eventually, Judy learned her lesson; they all did. They ended up jumping from man to man, looking for that pipe dream of a financially and mentally stable soul mate that would be exclusive to their pussies. I used to believe in fairy tales, too-for a hot minute. But I came to my senses after I went through a quick, successive series of breeds-a Boston Terrier, an Australian Kelpie, and a Chesapeake Bay Retriever. Then I decided I simply wanted to go to work every day, make a good life for myself, and fuck whom I wanted when I wanted.

However, even that should have had its limits and it's the reason why I need to confess. After Judy got rid of "the motherfucker with the long-ass name," she went through about nine or ten guys and then ended up shacking, within a matter of months, with William. Now, William had it going on, in all areas. He was about six foot two and beautiful, way past handsome. I couldn't even call him that. He had this smooth, dark skin that was like being gifted a year's worth of Godiva Chocolates. He had this kinky, black hair that screamed for a sister to run her hands through it. And, most important, it was obvious that he was hung like a barnacle. Yes, a barnacle. Most women go around bragging about how their men are hung like horses or mules, but check this out. They're not even in the top of the game. Damn shame I know this, but the barnacle has the biggest dick of any animal, followed by the Argentine blue-bill duck, a banana slug, a greater hooked squid, an African elephant, Colymbosathon ecplecticos, and a blue whale. Okay, so I was bored one day and looked that shit up. If I was going to be giving brothers mad props, I decided to get my knowledge straight.

Anyway, Judy had William, who was hung like a barnacle, and I was mad jealous. And I never got jealous. I'm not even sure how that happened, other than I was over their place one day, in the kitchen helping Judy peel some red potatoes to boil and mash for dinner, and that's when I saw him; saw it. He was sitting on the sofa, at a good vantage point from where I was standing, drinking a beer while ESPN was playing, and staring dead at me. I almost cut my finger off with the potato peeler, I was so distracted by his mesmerizing eyes.