I’m not knowing what to expect so I sit in stress, ready to undress my last bits of uttered respect. I’m lustfully dreading the approaching event, nervously craving the excitement and I’m ready to participate without bets. Yeah, “First time for everything,” is cliché, but I’m hoping this won’t be a painful session of oral play. I studied long and hard how alphas woo with their bars. The friction from the rhythmic linguistics erected my verbal diction. So I anticipate to penetrate your psychology with my dialectology. ‘Cause I’ll be savagely spitting phrases in symmetry and performing spoken hysterectomies.

I’m not afraid or at fault for perversion caused by this orchestrated literary assault.

Questioning readiness is not an option. So I’ll just relax and sip on some potion. The liquid confidence can make me feel less tense, enough to forget about an audience. But if I chug too much and I’ll throw up word vomit followed by hiccups. I might be impaired and unable to see if I’m even performing adequately.

But I’m ALL IN and not looking to pull out.

I pouts as the spout is about to bust but i have to let every word out.

Shits nuts.


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