One Night Cuck?

{D A M N, what’s that seated far at the end of the bar!?}

I’m mangled by bodacious hips, stuck abrupt and tangled by luscious tan skinned lips. Wielding geeky four eyes, freaky white smile and a sneaky touch with luring style. She shot a wink, I blinked and next thing we’re sinking, skinny dipping in her sheets. Wading in her water, trying not to falter, but this [common] king’s thirst has him diving headfirst. Gasping for air at the pull of my hair, drowning in screams as I lustfully swim upstream. Every long stride is strategized to reach the deepest sea and avoid getting choked; as she yokes my throat at every backstroke. Surprised by her gushing geyser signaling her blushing arrival. Both quivering in admiration from quenching our hormonal dehydration. I find it off but I’m not offended, when immediately commanded to leave the premises. Before being dismissed I dress, collect my mess, kiss this miss on the neck and… wait, what!?

Propped up across the bed’s horizon I see her cellscreen’s been facetiming another Verizon! I drop the calm act and retract back asking, “What the f*ck is all that!?” Her cacao brown pigment turned cocaine white, like what the terrorists be shippin’! She starts slipping into an endless stutter then lightly mutters, “Ok, see, I have a boyfriend… and well, it’s just kink…” A weak attempt to justify her stint, that happened without my consent. I’m confused if I should feel resent since, I had a pretty good time until all this… So, I laughingly comment, “The 2000s are almost 20 and, thanks to you, I think we now share a MeToo story.” “You’re overreacting,” she blares in a scare as I continue to perplexedly laugh my way out and down the stairs.

So, food for thought, avoid getting caught in the current’s rough by checking your surroundings before diving into unknown muffs; remember, shmucks don’t have genders.