Death. This is what I imagine happening if I ever slept with a married woman.
I end up dead at the end of the story. If there is one thing I would never do, it’s sleep with another man’s wife. Twice a week I’m put to the test. A very married woman, attractive, very early 30s I’m guessing, has seen something she wants and that something is me. This crazy cooze has made it beyond clear she wants my attention and I’m beginning to think the more I ignore her advances, the more her pussy bakes pudding. Even when I race out into the parking lot after class, she’ll yell out, “Goodbye Jesse! Have a nice day!”
I ignore her because I know we would fuck. She’s cool, funny, and the tension is there. Plus she has an ass so full of ass, if she were to bend over in front of me, I would probably faint. I wonder what it smells like? Pistachio? No! I can’t think like that! I’m avoiding this bitch at all costs. I hold zero interest in knowing what it feels like to poke another man’s wife, douchebag or not. All I have to do is make it two more weeks without her suggesting we hang out, continuing to give her one-word answers to everything, and jerking off once a day. I can do this.
What follows are 10 reasons why I shouldn’t have sex with this woman.
10. I’ll feel like shit. I’m a sensitive dude. Sure, I’m a pervert, but I like feelings and shit. I enjoy being in a team with a woman. An A-team, but we fuck all the time. If I stick my dick in this woman, I will lose all faith in the idea of marriage. I’m old. I want to get married and have my wife kill me pretty much like in the movie War of the Roses. That’s my idea of the perfect marriage. Falling head over fucking heels in love with each other, raising a couple of piggies, and when we’ve grown completely sick of each other, we don’t cheat. Cheating is for pussies. My wife and I try to kill each other, end up on the chandelier, and fall to our deaths. (In this fictional story I’ve become a very successful author and can easily afford to live in houses with ceilings so tall one could die if dropped from the top.)
9. Her husband could be the Zodiac Killer. You don’t know! They never caught that asshole. Maybe she was once into older men and married this dude, but now in the year 2012, the idea of my stiff peen is much more appealing than his old wrinkly Zodiac balls. Don’t be fooled, his old-geezer ass is still perfectly capable of stabbing me in the back dozens of times. I’m not trying to solve the Zodiac mystery; I don’t want anything to do with this asshole. That little circle symbol with the cross through it gives me the creeps. Only weird, painfully lonely, white people come up with shit like that.
8. She could be using me for a green card. She is Mexican. Colombian, even? Maybe she isn’t married at all, it’s a front and she’s trying to suck me into a scheme to keep her ass from being deported? She already knows I’m a blue personality; she was sitting right there in class when we tested. She knows I’m a sucker! I cry easily at movies, genuine and sincere. We blues want love and feel a deep need for peace. She knows this and plans to use it against me! I’m fucked. For all I know her family back home in Colombia is somehow involved with the Medellin drug cartel and after sucking me in, I’ll be a prisoner to their greed. Sure I get to drive a murdered-out black Ferrari and wear $800 leather shoes, but I’m a complete bitch to the back of her fist. Colombian women are fucking nuts; I’ve seen the movies.
7. She could be after my seed. Studies have proven the ginger gene is depleting and soon enough we will be erased from this earth. My cum is like aged wine that can never be replaced or made with more grapes because those grapes don’t exist! Women are materialistic as fuck and my load is like blood diamonds. There’s only so many. She’s not going to let me wear a condom, are you kidding?! She wants me to shoot diamonds all up in her cunt. She wants my diamond child, just like every other bitch on the planet.
6. She could be a dude. What if I follow through on this mess and reach down in her panties only to find four inches of sweaty limp dick? You would think it would be hard, but it’s not. This poor goddamn shemale is on so many uppers and downers, coke, smack, and Scotch, its dick couldn’t get hard if his/her own life depended on it. Those with sexual identity crisis can’t deal; there aren’t enough drugs in the world to fill that dark hole.
5. I’ll be a scumbag. Only grimy little pieces of shit sneak around sticking their dicks in other men’s wives. I’m legit. I’m not a slimy fuckface. Remember the little green ghost from Ghostbusters? He seemed kind of cool, right? Wrong. That’s the kind of worm that eats out another man’s wife. How are you going to eat out another man’s wife?! He blows loads in that vagina like no tomorrow! You may as well take a shot in the mouth. Another man’s wife’s vagina is like garbage in my eyes.
4. He could be black. If you sleep with a black man’s bitch he will fucking kill you. He’ll shoot your ass in the face. Black men don’t give a fuck about going to prison. Why do you think there are so many in there? Don’t dick around with a black dude or he’ll stick a screwdriver in your chest. I’ve seen Menace II Society, I don’t want O-Dog and A-Wax showing up at my front door talkin’ about I fucked Parnell’s girl. These people are nuts! No pussy is worth dying for unless it’s your wife’s and that’s exactly what I’m talking about. A black man doesn’t even have to be married to his girl. He could have only met her 5 minutes ago, but if you so much as even talk to her, you’re a dead man.
3. She could get pregnant. Now I’m really fucked. Mexican women won’t have abortions—they’re too Catholic (or too stupid.) Kidding. Any kid born out of adultery is going to be a fucked-up kid. Dad resents the little bastard for ruining his life. He’s never around, so the kid either becomes a 17-year-old girl with two kids of her own or a fucked-up degenerate already well on his way to committing his first murder. Or robbery, whatever. Either way, he ends up in jail. I don’t want to have to send his dumbass commissary money every two weeks. Fuckin’ put a hustle together, start doing prison tattoos or some shit. I never even loved your mother! There, I said it. I won’t be there when you get out.
2. God. This motherfucker right here. Does he exist? Is it bullshit? Dude, I don’t know, the only things I know of God are from what I’ve seen on The Simpsons. He seems like a cool dude, but what if I fucked Homer’s wife? I’m sure he would shoot a lightning bolt up my ass. Homer doesn’t deserve that shit and God knows it! They’ve bro’ed out together and here I come sticking my cock in Marge’s ass? Not cool, man. It’s not all donuts and Duff in Springfield. Don’t forget what happened to Maude Flanders. God let her ass get shot in the face with a T-shirt gun and fall to her death. Cartoon characters are supposed to NEVER die. God is a stone-cold gangster. Don’t fuck with him.
1. Performance. What if she catches me on an off day or says something cute with my rod buried deep down inside her? I could blow my shit way too soon. Then I’m a complete bitch in her eyes. I told you that story. I learned my lesson from that shit. It’s cool if you blow it with your girl once or twice because she knows you were just worked up and the clock spring couldn’t possibly be wound back any tighter. It’s time to BLOW! But one can’t be pulling this shit with a random or you look like a scrub, and we all know damn well a girl don’t want no scrub. I’ve heard the song; I know what’s up. Hangin’ out of the passenger side, all that shit. Premature-ejaculate once and it’s over. She’s NOT coming back. I’m way better off avoiding her at all costs and that way she goes on believing being fucked by me would feel like being hit by a cement truck (which is true.) Ha!
So there it is. Not that I needed any reassuring, but those are ten reasons why I won’t have sex with this woman. Blue personalities don’t do shit like that; we’ll wait forever if that’s what it takes to find love. We’re like dogs. Die at our side and we never walk. You’ve seen the Labradors that never leave the other dog’s side after he or she’s been hit by a car. That’s a blue personality.
“Never gonna give you up, no matter how you treat me.”
The Black Keys know.
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