RIPPED & READY (PART 86)

RIPPED & READY (PART LXXXVI)

            Transgressions are like assholes, everybody has them.  Not one of us is immune from mistakes living in this life and I was no exception.  After receiving the text message about the pending arrival of Collin’s son, I rose from the bed and started getting dressed, but while I was sitting at the edge of the bed slipping on one of my shoes, Peewee awakened and pulled me backwards.

          “Where are you sneaking off to, Thickness?” he asked, nuzzling my face with his stubbly covered chin.

          It tickled.

          I giggled.

          “I need to check in with my mother,” I told him, doing what I seemed to be doing a lot of lately, lie. 

           "Your mother knows how to text?"         

                He chuckled, and started pulling me further up onto the bed.

          “Nugh, uh,” he uttered, assuring me that leaving was not pleasing to him.

          He pinned me to the bed by sitting on top of me, straddling me (Uh, huh, A La D'Andre).

          After repeatedly trying to remove Peewee off of me, the pitter-patter of rabbits starting racing through my veins as my heart rate increased.  His physical strength was unlike anything I had ever encountered and I was beginning to feel like somebody being held against their will.  Judging by the look in his eyes as he gazed down at me, I could tell he was enjoying the power he had over me and that was the first time when I truly believed that I had made a huge mistake meeting him alone.

          Had I strung him along as opposed to sleeping with him, my initial plan might have worked,but it seemed as though I had written a very large check that my ass didn’t have the funds to cover.  I was in absolute bankrupt status without a solid stimulus bail out to balance the books.  If there ever was a time I wish I could pinch myself and wake up drenched in a cold sweat it was now. 

          His body weight had me plastered on my back against the shuffled sheets like a magnet.  His rigid member snaked across my chest like a garden hose and the hole at the tip of the head looked like the mouth of a poisonous Cotton-Mouth (If you’re from the south then you know exactly what kind of snake I’m talking about).  The more aroused he became, the larger the mushroom shape expanded and I knew, without a doubt, that he had but one thing on his mind and that was burrowing himself back inside of me. 

          I have always been a believer that too much of a good thing isn’t good for you and I wasn’t up to the challenge of being the wide receiver again – hell, it was already going to take several sit-baths to get old glory back into tip-tight-shape.  I knew large tally’s are all the rage on both sides of the sexes, however, I always felt that you could always work with a little less and just right as opposed to dealing with oversized and ridiculous.

          He was "Di-Dickulous" 

          Peewee was hung like Mister Ed and it felt like he was leaving an imprint on my chest with that big polish sausage.  I knew at that instant that there was no way I could last another round of drive and stab – I had to pull out all the stops to cool this buffed ass negro down.   I decided to use my wit to pop this zit.  This had to stop before it could reach the point of no return again. 

          Instead of foreplay it was time for getaway. 

          “If this thing is going to work you’ll have to use less brawn and more romance to win my heart, Peewee,” I told him, looking up at him with as much warmth in my eyes that I could muster under the circumstances. 

          “Little nigga, don’t play with my fucking emotions like that,” he said, leaning down rubbing the side of his stubby cheek against mine. 

          The action reminded of one that a rouge bull used in center ring at a rodeo and he sure as hell had the physique of one. 

          “Got-Dayum” this nigga had too much charisma and strength for one man. 

          “Hey, you always reminded me of a thicker version of Blair Underwood, Marco, why you don’t show me those pearly whites, thickness?” he asked, tightening the grips he had on both of my wrists. 

          I complied and went along with the tease session with a motive plastered across the tallest billboard in my mind.  If I ever expected to get out of this next pending assault, I had to play along.

          “Yea, like that.  Fuck I could just eat your thick ass up motherfucka.  I used to watch you walking from the bus stop heading home from school.  Nobody else knew it but I had a big ass crush on you, Brotha Marco.  I didn’t tell anyone, but I used to stroke my shit all the time thinking about you.  You were too young for me to approach but now you are of age and now that I have had a taste of your tender steak I have to sprinkle some gravy on it often,” he said, savagely exploring my body with his full lips. 

          He was rough.

          He was precise.

          No piece of my skin was left untouched by his luscious soup coolers.

          He was insistent.

          He was persistent.

          He was a pumped up steroid teddy.  

          He was Ripped & Ready.