A dancer named Ellendra was up there taking off her lacy underthangs, while a low and slow song boomed out its beat. Her bits was mad on the jiggle.
“She lookin’ fer a place to spend the night?” Buck axed. Ellendra was purty but not gorgeous, and she got a wide ass you could eat cornbread off of. Buck love a sizable ass-booty. He was a big feller and don’t mind a big gal to go with, a gal with acres of womanhood to explore. The hooting homeboys who filled up Lipsweet ain’t seem bothered by her bigness neither. They be whooping and calling after her like nobody’s business.From Buck on Bottom
Tag: featuring white women
you google it
She was built like a sexy skunk, like that French one, ass like a barrel of love, shit! Steel wanna dip his dingdong in that bitch like she the spicy mustard from McDonald’s, she got black hair with sorta curls, but not you know, and anyway, she talk like an angel, she got one them smooth country-girl voices, like you could just picture her reading poetry and riding a horse. Prolly not at the same time, that sounds difficult, but you know, on the same day anyway. Like in a “riding crop” maybe, Steel don’t know what that is and he’s too much in love to google it, you google it
He saw a white woman Saturday, fell madly in love with her, asked her out, she said yes, then he sent like thirty text messages, which apparently was “creepy” and “over the line” and she said it weren’t gonna work out, and she blocked him before he even composited together a response. Blocked him on the phone and on Facebook! Double whammy! She was built like a sexy skunk, like that French one, ass like a barrel of love, shit! Steel wanna dip his dingdong in that bitch like she the spicy mustard from McDonald’s, she got black hair with sorta curls, but not you know, and anyway, she talk like an angel, she got one them smooth country-girl voices, like you could just picture her reading poetry and riding a horse. Prolly not at the same time, that sounds difficult, but you know, on the same day anyway. Like in a “riding crop” maybe, Steel don’t know what that is and he’s too much in love to google it, you google it, but she dumped him just cuz he got long-winded with the texts, he wanna make sure she understand how pretty she is and how Steel felt cuz not many women make him feel like that, shit, she like a rail of coke, she do get a nigga started.
she got tits like liquid polar bears in sacs of milk and honey
the women here was the kinda sturdy, trashy bitch who prolly got names like Wilma or Sparkplug.
Steel do love spending time with ladies. Not just white women neither, but tonight, Steel want a white lady. A white lady with a name like Courtney or Beth. She’d prolly taste like a sunrise. Steel was imagineering a hypothetical Courtney when he opened the door to the rollicking bar.
Turned out the women was all drunk. Steel realized that the moment he stepped in and saw ’em flopping, jiggling they stuff, guzzling, straight-up guzzling beer and bourbon and all kinda tasty beverages. No doubt quenching they thirsts! No doubt! Rum! He was still picturing a pretty Courtney who was like a college student, maybe in nursing college, that’d be hot, with a nice face and clean hair, prolly wearing like a miniskirt or something, you know how white bitches do! That weren’t the kinda white women in Lipsweet though. The Jagged Right was a biker gang, so the women here was the kinda sturdy, trashy bitch who prolly got names like Wilma or Sparkplug.
That one honky, the one who took the beer Steel ain’t drink, he seemed to think Steel only wanted liquor and went off to get him a shotta bourbon, but then he got drunkenly distracted cuz one the white bitches — prolly a Wilma — took her top off, and she got tits like liquid polar bears in sacs of milk and honey, shit, got that honky tripping. Steel too.
what was the point of being a man if you can’t keep your little lady from hooking it?
And he felt bad that he felt good about leaving. He gotsta skedaddle while the heat was on. And he gotsta go less he lose control of his fists again. That boy ain’t a wall, and the lady ain’t a soldier.
Ellen was Goose’s wife. They ain’t never done live in matrimony, as they jumped the broom only days before Goose shipped out to the steamy greens. Ellen done come up in the family fashion, so they got married with a hurry and a hoop-dee-hoo. Now Goose returned to the joyness of meeting his newborned son Moses and to the sadness of Ellen admitting she been turning tricks to pay the bills. Army don’t pay diddly.
Goose did more shouting than he cared to admit, and he blistered and kicked up purple, raring and pitching, then he punched a hole in the wall and regretted letting his son see that and afrearing from it, and nothing Goose could do would make him stop crying. He said no wife of his gonna go and sell her God-given ladyness to any pecker-toter with dollars and a stiffy, cuz what was the point of being a man if you can’t keep your little lady from hooking it? But he done got drafted to the other side of the ever-blesséd world, so what was he sposedta do about it? Can’t do squat! Goose screamed like a river at a dam, til Ellen begged him to stop or the neighbors gonna call the sheriff, and Goose wanna ram his noggin into the wall until something somewhere broke.
The whatnots rising in him, Goose only regained hisself when he saw Vietnameys watching him like sentries from the woods behind the trailer. That turned out to be an illusion, but it got Goose calm as a clam, sending Ellen and Moses inside. Then he felt hisself a fool when he reckoned t’was just some shadowy tree swaying in the breeze, and he pretended ain’t nothing happen. He don’t want Ellen to think he couldn’t cope or Moses to think his pops was fearful.
So he steeled up for the woman and the boy. They got needs, and a rock don’t. He ain’t think twice about giving Ellen the cash-money from the robbery. “Don’t spend it all at oncet,” he said.
And he felt bad that he felt good about leaving. He gotsta skedaddle while the heat was on. And he gotsta go less he lose control of his fists again. That boy ain’t a wall, and the lady ain’t a soldier.
She nodded, and she whispered, “Thank you…”. She kissed Goose upon the cheek. That felt good. Damn good. Something about tenderness from a lady reassures a man he is alright and cures a touchous soul. Her lips wouldn’t tremble so soft-like if he was a monster. Ellen wouldn’t kiss a john the way she kissed Goose. He ain’t tell her not to whore it out no more cuz it was implied from the hole in the wall and cuz he ain’t want her to lie and say she would quit off when she really wouldn’t.
A high-protein cracker
He was watching Shark Tank and eagered to see the result of the pitch, so he went back to the teevee then. Honky bitch both invented and was a high-protein cracker.
He was watching Shark Tank and eagered to see the result of the pitch, so he went back to the teevee then. Honky bitch both invented and was a high-protein cracker.
From Deep on the Downlow
Tits like fire hydrants
She got no booty though, like her legs declared war on her hips and won.
Destiny was a lightcorn bitch with tits like fire hydrants, she got no booty though, like her legs declared war on her hips and won.
From Deep on the Downlow
Pam Ramsbottom
Her name was Pam, and she got a round face like a cow — that ain’t an insult. She was pretty as a plum, she just got a round face. She was delicate as a bowl of cream, and she got a pretty laugh, like mad pretty.
From Wojo the Bricklayer
Sandra Hofferlee
She was pretty like a sunrise, shoot! She got blonde hair and a nice neck. Her hair was all done up neat, rain ain’t ruin it at all, she was too nice for that, like mad nice. She sipped on her elaborate drink, getting whipped cream on her upper lip. You could just tell she’d be soft and warm and cuddly. Bet!
From Wojo the Bricklayer
The Cuckold Strikes Back
When Rick Stabler walks in on his wife with a big black alpha, he panics, pulls a gun and turns this cuckolding upside down! Tyrell Brickley never thought banging this white chick would lead to him giving up the booty!
Can Rick take what he needs to reclaim his masculinity?
On the caliber and quality of Australian chicks
Never give coke to a Australian girl. Australian females was the worst kind of white girl.
He ain’t get what David done said, but he picked up the gist: David got cash, and he ain’t got a lotta sense. He gots enough foolishness to buy coke for a Australian chick, for one thing.
Tyrell knew enough about white girls to know that was a bad idea. That’s a relationship that’s gonna end with her putting a brick in her purse and slamming it into this honky’s head. Never give coke to a Australian girl. Australian females was the worst kind of white girl.
From Tyrell the Ex-Con