MN Manmacker's mansploitation
Thinking about how his wife Edwina might could touch him sweet as sugar tonight made Malcolm’s rod go throb-a-dob with a rhythm of loyal mahogany
Malcolm got a whiff of a stiffy for a jiffy when he heard Brothah Reno riffing over his booty mama, and thinking about how his wife Edwina might could touch him sweet as sugar tonight made Malcolm’s rod go throb-a-dob with a rhythm of loyal mahogany, but he ain’t got no hard-on harding on at this very moment. Neverthelessly, he wanna sympathate with Big John parochial-like, and Malcolm still carried memories of his pre-Christian cravery.
“That metaphor got away from me, Avery, sorry ’bout that. But I can help you wit’ any of them succumbations.”
“So if you need help with any of that, with gang stuff-” He flashed gang signs and a grave mien. “-with money troubles, with getting horny and needing to get yo’ dingaling dirty, I understand how it goes,” Steel said. He kissed the air. “I am gonna support you, my brother. I be like the fence-post for the chain-links… of yo’… yo’, yo’ fence-brain. The fence, of, yo’ — if yo’ brain was a yard, and it got a fence.” He paused and blinked a few times. “That metaphor got away from me, Avery, sorry ’bout that. But I can help you wit’ any of them succumbations.”
He hid that notion under his domey-doodle though.
Anywayhows, the Portuguese spaghetti was good as girlfarts, and then they hip-hopped it to showers after supper. Steel kept it cool and calm, though his blood crawled up in his eyes and he wanna run back to his bunk to drink, glug-a-glug-a-goo, damn he wished he put a flask in his locker, if he was rich, he’d put flasks everywhere just in case he got thirsty. He hid that notion under his domey-doodle though. He wanna be less smacky for liquor than Lem. It ain’t a real addiction-craving if some other nigga is craving it more. That’s what Steel thought as he showered. Water water everywhere but not a drop to drink.
From Steel the Roughneck