“Boo”

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“Yes. I Will Have That Fine Ass Top Nigga.”

 

Those are my words to my bottoms out there that are sick of dating stereotypical gay men. I like my dudes to be: masculine, sexy, fine, and mine. DL or Discreet. Doesnt matter: as long as you are masculine and something about you attracts me to you. No voguing or “Yes Ma’am”. Ummmmmmm………

If I wanted to date/fuck a bitch,
I would be looking in the pound.
Some might hate on my choices
but ask me if I give a shit?

Lemme ask ya’ll a question…
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Lemme Talk To My Tops.

Let’s talk specifically about the bomb pipe laying ya’ll THINK ya’ll doing.

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Make-up Sex

A sexual short starring Jamari Fox

“Fuck you too!” I yelled from his living room.

”Naw, fuck you son.” He said, literally speed walking in the living room in a towel, “I dunno why I am fucking with you. We stay arguing on some ol bitch shit.”

“Because you like this good boy pussy, that’s why.” I stated confidently, crossing my arms, “You haven’t had any in a while. Are you fucking someone else?”

“Man, fuck you.” He said, walked back into the bedroom.

That was a guilty “fuck you”. I know him.

He has been getting on my last nerves lately. He been bitching like he has been on his male  period. We haven’t been talking. Shit, we haven’t been fucking. The last time I saw his dick, he was peeing. Are we over? I think we just maybe. I do not even want to be caught dead in the same room as him. I do not even know WHY the fuck I am even here to begin with.

… But damn, he is fine and he is my baby. I care for him a lot. We have been working on something for the last 6 months. The longest relationship I have ever been in. When he walked in here with that towel, I nearly lost my mind. I put my anger to the side and let my nasty side take over. I miss my baby’s meat inside me. He has beautiful skin, sea sick spinning waves, and some beautiful pecs on his six foot athletic frame. He is a Snickers bar complexion and a big 10.5 inch chocolate snake living in his secret garden. I miss it in my mouth.

Ok, focus. I am mad at him. I think. Shit, I don’t even know why I am mad at him.

Oh God, here he go.

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