actually, i'd been putting my paddle to the asscheeks for three years, pulling out the wooden punisher i had lovingly renamed 'smackahoesass' cuz really, it just seemed appropriate. i mean come on, what guy isn't a hoe? why would guys constantly be referred to as 'tools' if they weren't hoes?
anywho, back to the ritual. ritchie was bent over before me, his pale and hairy ass in the air, waiting for me to commence with the spanking.
no, this isn't his ass. this is the inevitable result when bad things happen to good ass. so much potential there, but his folk had to feed the kid properly and judging by the woefully malnourished look of these particular toilet cushions, his folk let him down. this just makes me sad. then again, maybe all the meat that was supposed to be allocated to his butt went instead to his penis. i'd take a meaty dick over a meaty ass any day of the week and twice on sundays.
meanwhile, ritchie's was a juicy ass, really. obviously he'd been raised in a hood in the south, cuz he had the kind of ass that could only grow with a steady feeding of collard greens and fried chicken. my hands itched to smack it and smack it hard, just to watch it jiggle a little from the force of the blow. looking at it i wondered how much of his 'wigga' like attitude was merely a reflection of the black folk blood possibly running through his veins. when we were talking trash earlier in the week, he kept talking about 'breakin' his foot in my ass'. if you know a white person who talks like that his last name is jackson and he lives on mlk. i countered with 'gunning him down like he'd just stolen my welfare check'. damn, but the kid brought out the nigga in a sista.
as i stared at his round mounds glistening beneath the southern sun, i realized i needed to put a personal touch on this ass-whupping. frankly, 'smackahoesass' just wasn't good enough to grace the skin on a booty such as his. i had to get my hands on that ass. i set up my lineup accordingly. i whipped out my 'johnson' and replaced him with my 'mark'*, sure he could toss at least a couple of tiddies over the giants. my 'afric'ant' was out, so i replaced him with my 'jones' to couple nicely with my other 'johnson'*. everything else remained the same. i was ready to thrash upon that ass.
and so it went. he was no match for me, really. so what if he had tiki. so what if he only had one defensive player left to go and i was up by 18 and his defensive player turned out to be the favorite receiver of his qb that night? it wouldn't matter. two days later, he was wearing my handprints on his ass like a permanent tattoo. his cheeks were left a ruby red, a kiss of lip sticking to his skin like crabs on a crotch.
i should have told him men love it when i spank them. they enjoy it when i force them to bend over to feel my wrath. no matter the tool i use, whether it be 'smackahoesass' or my hands or a switch broken off of tree in the back yard, it matters not. i've got three championship trophies on my shelf for three straight years of making a brotha feel like the ass-whupping i just gave him felt like i had just swallowed his cum after sucking him off for ten minutes.now THAT'S skill. hopefully i'll be able to utilize that skill next time i give a brotha the crabs.
___________________
* brad johnson benched for mark brunell
* samkon gado benched for julius jones coupled with larry johnson
|