Daddy Long Stroke

You ready to cum? Imagine this: A pretty bitch down on her knees with a pair of soft, full lips wrapped around the head of your dick. A hot, wet tongue twirling all over it, then gliding up and down your shaft, wetting that joint up real slippery-like, then lapping at your balls; lightly licking your asshole. Mmmm, I’m using my tongue in places that will get you dizzy, urging you to give me your hot, creamy, nut. Mmmmm, baby…you think you ready? If so, sit back, lie back, relax and let the Deep Throat Diva rock your cock, gargle your balls, and suck you straight to heaven.

I reread the ad, make sure it conveys exactly what I want, need, it to say, then press the Publish tab. “There,” I say aloud, glancing around my bedroom, then looking down at my left hand. “Let’s see how many responses I get, this time.”

Ummm, wait…before I say anything else. I already know some of you uptight bitches are already shaking your heads and rolling your eyes. So I know that what I’m about to tell ya’ll is going to make some of you disgusted, and that’s fine by me. It is what it is. And I know there’s also going to be a bunch of you closeted, freaky bitches who are going to turn your noses up and twist up your lips, but secretly race to get home ’cause you just as nasty as I am. Hell, some of you are probably down on your knees as I speak, or maybe finishing up pulling a dick from out of your throats, or removing strands of pubic hair from in between your teeth. And that’s fine by me as well. Do you, boo. But, let me say this: Don’t any of you self-righteous hoes judge me.

So here goes. See. I have a man—dark chocolate, dreamy-eyed, sculpted and every woman’s dream—who’s been in incarcerated for four years, and he’s releasing from prison in less than nine months. And, yes, I’m excited and nervous and almost scared to death—you’ll know why in a minute. Annnywaaaay, not only is he a sexy-ass motherfucker, he knows how to grind, and stack paper. And he is a splendid lover. My God! His dick and tongue game can make a woman forget her name. And all the chicks who know him either want him, or want him back. And they’ll do anything they can to try to disrupt my flow. Hating-ass hoes!

Nevertheless, he’s coming home to me. The collect calls, the long drives, the endless nights of sexless sleep have taken a toll on me, and will all be over very soon. Between the letters, visits and keeping money on his books, I’ve been holding him down, faithfully. And I’ve kept my promise to him to not fuck any other niggas. I’ve kept this pussy tight for him. And it’s been hard, really hard—no, no, hard isn’t an accurate description of the agony I’ve had to bear not being fucked for over four years. It’s been excruciating!

But I love Jasper, so I’ve made the sacrifice. For him, for us! Still, I have missed him immensely. And I need him so bad. My pussy needs him, aches for the width of his nine-inch, veiny dick thrusting in and out of it. It misses the long, deep strokes of his thick tongue caressing my clit and its lower lips. I miss lying in his arms, of being held and caressed. But I have held out; denied any other niggas the privilege—and pleasure—of fucking this sweet, wet hole.

The problem is: Though I haven’t been riding down on anything stiff, I’ve been doing a little anonymous dick sucking on the side from time-to-time—and, every now and then, getting my pussy ate—to take the edge off. Okay, okay, I’m lying. I’ve been sucking a lot of dick. But it wasn’t supposed to be this way. I wasn’t supposed to become hooked on the shit as if it were crack. But, I have. And I am.