You say that you a gangster. Can you prove it to me, by just being calm, cool, and collected, and ready to give all that you have to give? Shhh…don’t say a word. Let’s do it all in peace before our mouths open to release what the pleasure is making us feel.

Come into my place, and get the feel of it cuz my home is your home. Take off your jacket and your shoes, lay down on my living room sofa and just chill. I’ll quench your thirst with a martini or two before you hold me with your huge, firm, hands and mix your chocolate with my caramel.

Your stereo blares with that hip-hop, and you spend endless nights with a beat in your head, pencil and paper right beside you on your nightstand for a midnight rap. But sexually, you think variety is the spice of life. I generate firmness inside of my jeans to have you soon taste every spice and herb that I have to offer.

Look at me…You think I am just gonna get on my knees and suck you real well? This is your time, and my time as well, and I’m gonna make it last long. Cuz you love me, and I love you too, but I am not gonna end it with you coming with rivers of your soldiers in my mouth.

I’m gonna rub down your shoulders with handfuls of Vaseline, as you close your eyes and tell me where those spots are, the strings of your du-rag tinkling my arms. Remove that muscle shirt and I’ll do the chest, one enormous lake of chocolate waiting to be touched and rubbed so slow like it’s the first time that a 13 year old pleasured himself.

We’re gonna be naughty, and dirty, and bad, we’ll forget about reality, and just soak up the heat that is radiating between us. The rhythm comes on, and I feel like getting off undone, but you take control of me, and strip me naked slowly. The zippers come loose simultaneously, and you place me on the bottom, my mind knows what’s coming and it tells me that I am gonna enjoy it really well.

Hardly and intensely, you prick me. You puncture me. You enter me with as much want that has been living inside of you. My head is thinking, freestyle a rap for me. Freestyle a beat for me. In and out, in and out, that is the rhythm, in betwixt our moans of delight and vulgarity of raw pleasure. “Fuck” is the word that is the bridge of our rap song. Rubbing of you up against my insides and the pumping you doing makes us erupt together and body parts are showered in come. The play is temporarily over, and soon we will go at it again.

Because this will not be just five minutes of gratification. My doors are locked. Let’s make it last.