nurses or whoever, because ain’t no virgin on Earth have skills like this.
He finally got his T. rex arm to put the condom on, and he moved in. And yes, I know what you’re going to ask:
He had dick for days.
And for real . . . he tore it up.
He straight tore up the pussy. His dick game was off the chain!
He took control and laid me back and went to work, and it felt amazing. I was on my back in missionary, enjoying the hell out of this fuck. My pussy was feeling so good.
And then I opened my eyes.
Oh hell. I’m looking at him, and it’s like—his face is just twisted as fuck. It was so contorted and screwed up, it was horrifying to look at. You know when someone is concentrating, they make funny faces? Yeah, well, it was like a Halloween mask was doing that.
I closed my eyes in fright, but damn, it would start feeling really good down there, and then I would open my eyes again, and be like “Oh, no.” It was like a scary movie, except that my pussy felt great.
The thing that really messed me up was that he was holding himself up with that good arm, and his dead little baby hand was dangling over my face. And you know, it’s Roscoe, so he’s sweating and drooling and shit, and it’s dripping on my forehead.
The sweat and the drool, it was too nasty. I had to do something, but I didn’t want the sex to stop.
Tiffany: “Roscoe, hit this from the back.”
Roscoe: “Ohhhh, youuuu want me to tap dat azz from da back! YOU AIN’T GOTTA AXE ME TWICE!”
He took his strong arm, slid it underneath me, grabbed my opposite hip, and in one motion, flipped me over. I landed right on my hands and knees instantly. I don’t even know how he did it. It was some Cirque du Soleil shit.
He was right in me, holding my waist with that good hand, smacking my ass with that little dead hand, and he was just fucking my pussy up. I could kind of feel him drooling, but I didn’t give a shit. As long as I didn’t have to see his Halloween sex faces, it was cool, because his dick was amazing.
He was saying all the normal things guys say during sex, then all of a sudden, the craziest fucking thing happened.
Roscoe: “Damn girl, you got some good pussy.”
His voice turned normal.
He went from his mush-mouth, long-ass vowel words you could barely understand, to talking like a normal man. And with a deep, sexy-ass Billy Dee Williams voice.
Roscoe: “Yeah Tiffany, you like this dick, don’t you, sexy girl?”
Hell yeah, I do!
I started feeling like, Okay, I must have magical powers, I can heal people with my pussy.
He kept talking normal, and then he came hard, and plopped down next to me. The sex had been amazing, but I was even more excited that I healed this motherfucker with my pussy! I got a magical unicorn pussy!
I got all sweet and turned to him.
Tiffany: “Roscoe, you were so good, you want something to drink, baby?”
Roscoe: “Yeah, baby, I’d love something to drink.”
I walked to the kitchen, and for real in my twenty-two-year-old brain, I honestly thought to myself, I fucking healed this guy. I made him healthy. This is the greatest ghetto fairy tale ever.
I poured him a nice, cold glass of water, and I stopped in the bathroom to fix my hair and look good for my newly healed man.
Tiffany: “Here you go, baby, here’s your water.”
Roscoe: “Tank youuu, Tiff-a-Knee.”
Oh, hell no! It wore off!
My magical pussy power is only temporary!
I was seriously depressed. I honestly thought for a second my pussy had powers and that I turned this incredibly sweet handicapped man into a normal boyfriend (except for that one arm, but still). Yes, I know that’s fucking nonsense, but I thought it.
Oh, well. He may not be healed, but handicapped or not, he can still fuck.
I was off work the next day and the day after that, so I made him call in to work sick, and I kept him at my place that whole time. We was fucking for two days straight. Sometimes sleeping and eating, but mainly fucking.
I did most of the cooking, but to his credit, he made sandwiches for us. But I didn’t go in there and watch him make them, because I didn’t want to see that dead baby hand on my food.