Black Men Are Better!

Shawn and I were in bed one night arguing about who’s the best to fuck in bed: white boys or black men. Yes, that was how I said it: “white boys vs. black men.” Shawn didn’t like the way I said it, but at that moment, the least I cared about was his feelings, especially when it involved sex. He could moan about it however he wanted, but he already knew which one I preferred.

We were passing weed back and forth, which helped to loosen my tongue and verbiage. It was unfortunate that I was also in the mood to fuck, but the last person I wanted to stick their cock in me was Shawn. Of course, I hadn’t told him that. I noticed he had been trying to make moves since he came by. It was either going to be him or my fucking dildo, and I figured my black dildo would do a better job than him.

“Come on, Mandy, you can’t be serious?”

“I’m dead serious, Shawn,” I replied. “And you know it, too, so don’t act coy with me. You’ve seen my friend, Abby, with her latest boyfriend, Jermaine. Haven’t you noticed the way she smiles whenever he’s around? What do you think that’s about?”

“I figure it’s because she digs him more than her previous, Mike. Even though I kinda liked Mike. He was always good to her, the same way I am with you.”

“He might have been good to her, sure, but he was lame in bed. It’s like that Kendrick Lamar song: ‘Once lame, always lame.’”

“What do you mean by that?”

“What I mean is Mike might have given her the world on a platter, but the one thing he never gave her was a good dick,” I declared. “If he’d ever given her one of those, they would still be together. The fact that he didn’t means he couldn’t, so she needed to find someone who could and would. And guess what, Jermaine’s got that big dick and more.”