The Sex Soundtrack

Sexual Underestimation; it’s a beautiful thing. You’re all set to have sex with someone, expecting an average experience, never imagining that your partner will be exceedingly proficient in sexual pleasure. Her sex drive needed a chauffeur; I felt like whipping the whip. Win, Win, right? Green Light.

She’s a brickhouse. Commodores status. Pudge in the gut, perfect butt. Insane ratio. Breasts made for infant feeding or grown men’s enjoyment. Ghetto chick like Keisha Cole, probably Frankie if she’s drunk. She’s not new, she was a 2009 summer-car-jump; parks, random blocks, and parking lots. Never even bent her over. Face is ok, flaky 7, solid 7 with makeup, probably a 6 if you woke up next to her. Weave unproper. She dresses for her body, not for her style. You know, that DAMN look at her ass, not DAMN look at her fresh.

Now it’s almost two years later. She’s upgraded herself. Took that weave out, transferred pounds from her stomach to her ass, worked on her dress code. Sent 5 pictures that looked so good on Handcent SMS that I immediately transferred them to my computer and gave her a folder. She’s moved up to an 8, atleast digitally. “So, when can I see you?” she asked. I asked a few questions and everything lined up. No kids, own house, and lived 15-20 minutes away. Green Light.

I hate waiting outside, so I called her 5 minutes before I got there and told her I was pulling up. #ontimecheats. I walked up to the door, keeping a careful eye on the two pit bulls standing quietly at her gate. I heard her from inside her home, “the door is open.”

Nurse costume on deck. It’s not Halloween and I didn’t have to trick. I didn’t have a ruler, but I’d guess those were atleast 4′ inch heels. Ass poppin’ out from under that skirt. “Hey daddy”, she greeted. I didn’t say anything, I just looked. She took me upstairs, turned on some R&B hotmix on her surround sound, and told me to lay down on my stomach. I must admit, I was a bit apprehensive. To my knowledge, there’s no way to have sex like this, and quite frankly, it seems gay. Thankfully, she just wanted to rub my back.

After a good 5 minute deep tissue massage, she directed me to turn over. She kissed from my chest down to my dick. She grabbed it, kissed the tip, then looked up at me and smiled. I could have came, but I knew if I didn’t flat out fuck the shit out of her, I’d never see her again. She continued to put me inside of her mouth, tongue moving, head bopping, fast…slow…pause…she was about to make the babies come out prematurely. I wasn’t ready to knock her mouth up, so I pulled her head back by her hair and told her to lay down.

I needed to cheat to survive. Method? One position per song. Perfect. As the first song started, I put her on her back, legs wrapped my back and stroked her as deep as my dick could reach. Work the left wall, right wall, go strong…slide back out. She’s putty. She sings along with the track, “All I want is you.” I laughed at the silly shit women say when you fuck them like that. Second song starts, something by Pretty Ricky. I wanted to actually get up and cut the song off, but in the interest of good ass sex, I switched it up. Both legs on my right shoulder; slightly turned to the left. I’m trying my hardest not to look her sexy ass in the eye. I can feel her nails deep in my skin and her moans in my ear. Switced the legs to the other side of my shoulders and slowed it up…chopped and screwed.

New song. Lil Wayne, Tupac, and Ludacris called Nymphos (had to google it when I got home). I was paying more attention to the song than her, no homo, if you’ve heard it, you know why. I was supposed to be switching the position but I had bigger problems…I was going soft from listening to niggas voices rapping instead of focusing on what was in front of me. She quickly noticed, “are you ok?”. I shook my head, “I’m good.”

Without words, I got up and turned her over. She put her ass in the air and her face into the pillows. I pushed the small of her back down and watched my dick slide into her. I smacked her ass and watched the wave. Trey Songz came on singing about how he can’t be friends with some girl while I used the beat to direct my strokes on cue with the clap. She starting showing out and threw it back and fucked up my rhythm; had me off beat like I was white. I put my hands on her hips, pulled back that hair she told me I better not mess up in my fist and fucked her 50 Tyson. Forest Gump. Raymond. Nathaniel Ayers. Retarded. Her moans intensified, my dick jumped inside of her. I turned her from the headboard to the side of the bed; she quickly fell off.

We’re on the floor, she’s on top of me, grinding to Freakin’ Me. “I don’t need no help,” she assured me. I surrendered and let her do whatever she felt needed to be done. She started off leaned over me, making her ass bounce while she held my hands down on the floor. I wanted to thrust up, but I let her do her thing. I moved my hands to her hips and she sat up straight, hip rolling. Twerk Team status on a dick. She stopped and got into a squat, using my hands for leverage while her pussy soused my condom. I wanted to pull that shit off, I swear. After I recovered from my temporary insane thoughts, I grabbed her, brought her back down to my chest, and pushed into her until she broke down. Her box exploded; she fell over next to me on the floor.

Twista and Chris Brown reminded me that I hadn’t recorded one second of this. I grabbed my phone and took a seat on the edge of the bed. She came and sat on my lap, back facing me, pussy got my dick in a headlock. I smacked it, feeling like I was at Starvin Marvins Platinum. I grabbed her breast and turned her around. She straddled me, Old Spice; she’s on a horse. I smirked as “Ride” came on. Street Fighter…PERFECT.

I’m begging her in my mind to even have 10% of Ciara’s dancing ability, so I can bust a nut big enough to shoot her to the ceiling. Seen Scary Movie? She tried, obviously not Ciara status or I would have proposed that night, but more than enough for the K-O. “Damn I’m about to cum,” I notified her, hoping she’d jump off, but she simply replied, “gimme that shit.” And with that…ahhhh.

Live Update: as I was writing this I received a little text message…

Round 26…

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Author: The Undresser

Black, Single, and Not Looking. Enjoys grilled salmon, cold glasses of water, and grocery shopping at Meijer. Likes women with nice ass to waist ratios, Reese Cups, and watching Real Time with Bill Maher. Dislikes cigarettes, littering, and disobedient children.

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