I don't remember the last time I had pussy. When I did have it, I recall how I use to do. I loved parting it and licking the pink juicy core. Stroking a bitch's clit always sent them into a frenzy. Even when they didn't want it, when they were sleep, and dead.
The body cannot get enough of it. Sex is energy, it's power. Pussy gives a man sanity, it's honestly the only reason we have women. Dignity is showered onto a gracious woman, whereas wealth is placed onto violent men.
I'm not violent, just because a bitch doesn't see it my way. That's not my problem. I am a Mexican, my eyes the color of mud and my hair as wild and unkempt. My skin the hue of dirt. When I was king they kissed my damn toes.
They loved my dick. They begged for it; Mexico is a bit tougher but a whore cost you about fifty pennies to a gold ring. Because they want to be safe.
Once in school, I remember all the Spanish bitches. I took a bitch on quinceanera. She was cute, a little chubby. I didn't touch her though... I don't want to be in jail. But she... she wanted it.
Her name was Kayla Ginevra Yanes. She was thinking right, up until her stupid ass tripped downstairs running from nothing or maybe it was the gargoyle in the house.
The Ghytto doesn't care unless you fight. And I got a castle way in Mexico. Well, used to.
All you have to do is... follow the word and I did. I followed it, to a T. But, I needed more.
I swear it's the magic. Your dick is engorged with the power. I just wanted to fuck. And fuck. I'd fuck a nigga just to get it over with.
I sat like fucking Solomon. 500 concubines, I never understood the whole wife thing. Why the fuck a bitch wanna marry money? It's just gon' leave.
Feminist are retarded. They fight for women's rights and abortion or some shit. It's so fucking backwards. You want women to have kids as much as you want but also promote the hypocrisy in the fact that a hundred bitches will gather to say kill the child still developing.
What exactly do they mean?
Your body is your body but the body is a sensual thing. You are born with a body, that anyone can just take. Shouting to God, who the same stupid ass people believe is a woma, is beyond fucking stupid.
Oh woe is the bitch next door crying because men adore her breast. That's the purpose. But breast feed children...
And me!
A 60-year-old woman as more respect than a bitch in her 20s. And it fills us with joy because the use of a woman can still be used with plastic surgery. I would rape a bitch with fake titties. What I want are the titties. She clearly got them for me!
Women get fixed for men. They love dick. However, I will gladly sock a bitch in the face with my dick in her. Because she wanted it.
My daughter is everything to me. But she I have a daughter she must learn her body is forfeit. Nobody wants to marry for love, they want pussy. She is a hole.
If I wanted to, I would...
My wife, she gave me a baby but the puppy is still mine. And she takes it with delight.
Pussy talks and men here. So, when Solenn walked down the hall and passed me. I knew. I heard it.
I followed behind her, grabbed her skirt and lifted it. She had some pretty ass cheeks I could sink my fangs in. My dick lifted, he was ready. I told her... she looked at me with defiance. Bitch slapped me, I thought to myself, she was clearly fucking stupid.
I'm--was a prophet. I don't give a shit. I'm better than that nigga. He didn't give me shit and I got all the riches, what I have is a fucking gift.
He owes me.
I told him I would get a garden for him. I will... eventually but it's mine... because I found it.
Where the fuck are my painkillers?
.
.
.
.
Goddamn, Goddamn
I dug out of my coffi, found a body for fucking Magna cArta and now I'm here in a lame nigga with his pants too fucking tight.
WHY AM I DOING THIS?
Fucking Aleigha was in one of my puppets back at the damn house.
More questions.
WHY DO I KNOW IT'S MY UNCLE WHEN I SEE HIM BUT WHEN I HEAR I DON'T KNOW AND CAN'T DO SHIT? MAGIC. BULLAHIT MAGIC.
Again. WHY AM I DOING THIS?
Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.
In other words. We left the goddamn church why the fuck is this happening. My mother told me right from wrong and I keep it with me.
What the fuck!
Did that nigga eat me and shot me?
Where is my brother!
Now I gotta put up a fucking front in front of these people get to get around.
Imma kill somebody... I could also trap myself in a closet.
"Hey Ian! Did you do that paper for Mr. Charles?"
"Nah." I have no fucking clue where I am. "Did you?"
"I'm late." the nigga with fangs says. "It's due today."
Play along. "What was it about?"
"It's a clickable PDF. You fill it out after a certain number of phone calls."
What the fuck—Am I at the DOHRCC? I must be still in Virginia. "For Virginia?" I ask. "What?" he squints. "Houston." he states slowly. Bitch, nigga I will kill you.
Speaking of death, where did my extra souls go? Please Jesus don't tell me I got juked out my earnings. I trusted a fucking street vamp from the church... I'm finna die again...
"I'll probably look at it again today."
"It's in your email. Company email."
What the fuck is that?
I course the hall until I find a glass door with cubicles. I go in and find the emptiest ass desk that's obviously this nigga's. Once found I sit my ass down; the phone is ringing.
I pick it up, "New soul, who this?"
"Um... I'm calling about therapy for vampire assaults."
"Ok." I put my legs under the desk. "I can help." I sit in chair with my fingers together. "Aren't you supposed to give me an appointment? Or direct me to a professional?" she says.
"What's your name?"
"My name is Eve Moore and I'm a patient in Sugar Land."
"Oh, you from sugar sugar?" I chortle. "I'm giving you therapy. If I send you to the next building its gon' take time."
"Oh... well. About six year ago. I... was... kidnapped."
"I understand. I had a mother that went missing, we never found her." But I fucking will before I leave this world. "My name is--" the fuck this nigga name? He has a name plate on his desk, 'Ian Harding' "My name is Ian Harding. I've been with the company for about two years now."
"It's nice to meet you." she says. "You can talk to me, please continue."
She sighs over the phone. "Hey... Ian." a voice is in my ear but I ignore it. "Dude transfer the call."
"His name was Armand Geiger. He was a vampire from Louisiana. He didn't have a church but I used to be..." she inhales. "A juice box..." I roll my eyes. I want to laugh so bad. "He was loving and I met him, catching a taxi to the bus station."
"What is it, about the event you can't escape?"
"Well, I took the taxi. I didn't sit in the back of the taxi, he had boxes in the back so I sat in the front, in the passenger seat."
"Ok."
"He took me to my destination. We got to the bus station."
"Are we talking about a city bus or Greyhound?"
"Greyhound."
"Did you talk to him?"
"We were both silent."
"Alright, what happened at the station?"
She breathing but not saying anything. Vampire kidnapping are real. Sometimes it's a smaller vampire with no coven looking to make a coven if their scared to ask God. Speaking of God... who the fuck--
"I tried to get out of the taxi." her voice low. She smacks her lips. "He locked the door and said he wanted to feel me. I tried unlocking and he locked it again. I didn't beg him; he grabbed my hair and smashed my head against the dashboard but I didn't pass out so he jerked my arm and started biting it. He said, I know how to make you faint."
"How have you been since then?"
"Well, I have a problem. I'm an alcoholic now. I was... impregnanted by..." she trails off. Armand, I remember him very well."
"What do you remember?"
"His penis. When I think about it. I don't know if he was a real vampire... and I just kind of write it off as a fantasy."
Honestly, I don't know what kind of sympathy I could give. "Did he do anything to you?"
"He put rocks in my vagina, I'm not sure why. It very strange having rocks inside me. I still think I have rocks in me. My daughter is Saxia, she likes to collect rocks near Brazos river. I told her to stop and she didn't so after the 18th time, I slapped her and said I would bite her to death."
"Is your daughter ok?"
"we don't talk..."
"How is your relationship?"
"Gone."
I sigh, "Well, what we need to do is... accept it. We can't keep saying it's a fantasy because that just breed more fear. We want to move on. What I want you to do right now, is close your eyes."
"Ok."
"Inhale." she does as so. "Now exhale slowly." She does. "We are away from it."
"I'm away from it..."
"This is a new place, a new time, a new me."
She repeats. "Fear is an illusion. You are fine."
"I'm fine." she says calmly.
"A rock is a rock... it can't fly at you. It has no will. You have the willpower."
"I have the willpower..."
"Ian!"
What in the name of the crucifixion of goats. "Ian! See me in my office." a wrinkled bald man stands behind me. His belly is fuller than I would like it to be. "I'm on a call..."
"Now!"
Bitch ass nigga. "Eve, it was nice talking to you. I have to depart."