1. The Grand Eclectic Pornocomedy: Chapter 1


    Date: 2/17/2016, Categories: Fiction, Author: Cunnidingus, Rating: 65, Source: sexstories.com

    I wake up, sit up halfway and look at the clock on the dresser. It reads 2:33. I grunt because, fuck, that's really early. I lay back down, scratch my pubes and try to sleep harder but it doesn't work. Frustrated, I pop my head back up to see 3:22 on the clock. My dog that I don't have sings me a lullaby and I slowly begin to drift away once again. I wake up again at 6:00, a more tolerable time. It's Saturday, so I really don't have to be anywhere, but it's my dog's birthday even though I don't have a dog, so I take him downtown to get some yogurt. The yogurt is really nice, and I walk outside to see this homeless nigga chilling on the sidewalk. We make eye contact and he does that cool head nod that cool people do when they see someone they think is cool. "Hey man, you like yogurt?" "I don't know man, I've never had it." It's a travesty, I know, so I go inside the yogurt shop and buy a fat pound of yogurt for the guy. He does that cool black guy laugh and says, "Man, this shit's pretty good, my nigga." Then he says, "You want a wish?" Now, I've heard strange things in my life before. I've heard lies, yearbook photographers have always told me my pictures look good. But I feel like this guy is telling the truth. So I tell him, "I'm pretty lonely. I wish I had a bad bitch to fuck. Or multiple bitches, I don't know." He does the cool black guy laugh once again, but louder. I try to do it too but it doesn't really work. The wind picks up and I see some leaves begin to spin ...
    around each other. "Hey man, do you wanna crash at my place? It's getting kinda cold." "Nah fam, you've done more than enough for me. Really, we're cool." "Oh ok then." My dog that I don't have yells at me that we have to get home, because it's getting colder, so we haul ass back to my crib. I enter the door and drop myself on the couch. I reminisce about that good-ass yogurt for a minute, and then my phone buzzes. I check it and, to my surprise, someone texted me. A WOMAN. A PRETTY woman. A pretty WHITE woman. And anyone who knows me can tell you that white women are my weakness. Too bad nobody knows me. Oh well, whatever. "can I come over ;)" she says. I begin to type "Maybe if you use correct capitalization and punctuation, bitch," but opt instead for a simple "Yeah, go ahead," because people never come to my place. This reminds me that my house looks like SHIT. I rush around everywhere, putting shit away and hiding shit that won't fit anywhere else. I get the whole thing to look presentable, and then the doorbell rings. I open the door to see this lovely lady, a sweet little thing I know from school. Her golden hair is tied back in a cute ponytail and she's wearing black athletic shorts and a white t-shirt, simple stuff, but it really revs my engine, holy shit. She's small, maybe 5'2", yet VERY well-proportioned, but even for her size, her feet are pretty small, and they look beyond cute in white Nike socks and those black Nike slippers that hood niggas wear in the summer. ...
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