Volume I: Kindergarten Red Pencil Dick

Date: November 30, 2016

Time: 2:47 am

Name: Red Kindergarten Pencil Dick

Size: Lol

Do you guys remember those pencils we had in kindergarten and grade one? Like the kind that were a little thicker than normal pencils, but perfect for our little hands? I’ll attach a picture for reference:

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Keep that in mind. So anyway at this point in my life, it’s been some time since my break up, and I decide to start D patrol once more. Best way to get over someone is to get under someone, and all that. Bout it.

Anyway, I’m at home watching teen mom, and I get a message. Seeing as though I had recently become single, I downloaded Tinder to start to get myself back out there (aka: time to hoe). I had been speaking to a bunch of people, but this guy was a little bolder than everyone else. We were talking, he asked me why I was on the app, to which I gave the most thorough and thoughtful answer I could think of: “Dick.” Duh.

He mentions that he lives in Mississauga, and says I should come visit him, and I tell him that he could come to Toronto if he’d like (like I’m paying bus AND subway fare for some dick… try again) – and he goes: “Ok I’ll get in an Uber right now”

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Alright, fuck it. I tell him to come over.

Now, at this point I feel we should recap a few things:

1.       It was almost 3 am and a bitch was tired

2.       I was already in bed, legs closed, bonnet on, being a child of God

3.       He invited himself over

So I get up, shower, clean my room (!!) and wait. He arrives around 20 minutes later, and I buzz him up. When I answer the door, he is a little shorter and huskier than I usually go for, but he was pretty good looking, so fine.

He walks into my room, and I go to sit on the bed. As he takes off his coat, he starts charging towards me, at which point I ask him to kindly take off his shoes in my damn house. Fuck you think this is? Half jokingly I remind him that this isn’t his Mama’s house, and he goes: “Actually, I don’t live with my mom; haven’t in years” and we start to make out. Hot.

Except not fucking hot, cause his voice was nasally as hell with his “UM, ACTUALLY” ass , andddd he was a shit kisser.

Warning #1.

Whatever, kissing isn’t everyone’s thing. I even bit his lip, and he was like “Ow, that hurts” and actually looked at me like I was supposed to say sorry or something like… Anyway, whatever, it’s fine (it’s not).

So he rips my pants off, and goes to work. The head is alright, not great, not good. He pops up to ask if “I’m clean”, to which I think:

A)      Why wouldn’t you ask that before you put your face in it, dumb-dumb, and

B)      I know you smell this shea butter, stop the nonsense.

Anyway, he does that for a minute then goes *bloop* and tried to stick like four of his fingers in me at once.

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PAUSE. Do I look like an oven mitt to you sir?

Warning #2.

At this point, I’m pretty much over it, and want to get to the good part. I reach down to grab him… and continue reachin

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… Still reaching.

It was only until my hand was in a very tight fist did I first come into contact with it. Uh-oh.

You stupid bitch. You didn’t ask for dick pics.

I couldn’t believe it. I think I froze for a second, cause I was actually perplexed, because whatever it was I was holding in my hands… was hard. Which did… not… compute. I had to get a better look at this.

So I climb over him to look at it with both eyes, cause there’s just no fucking way. But, oh there was.

Y’all remember those red pencils I talked about at the beginning of the story…

No one believes me but I SWEAR it was the exact shape and approximate circumference of those red pencils, but just half the size. His shit looked like those things that ate SpongeBob’s house

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You see, Chloe? This is what you get. This is what you get for being a whore.

Now, I want to clarify a few things. Ok, it is not his fault that he has a teeny-ween, nothing that he could do about the way he was born, and the last thing I want to do is body shame a person, but nigga really? What gets me is that he was so bold as to INVITE HIMSELF OVER AT 3 AM to have a red kindergarten pencil up in my sheets. Just perplexing.

So anyway, at this point I’m trying to diffuse the situation in a way that would get him and his nematode dick away from me with a swiftness. Then he asks me to go down on him.

Shit.

Ok… So maybe he’s like a super grower and just needs a little help. Fine.

With tears in my eyes, I hover over it. It stares back at me, and from this angle looks like an index finger pointing straight to my face, going: you fucked up, girl.

I am beginning my slow decent to his…. (?), and I am finally close enough. I feel the tip of it very lightly graze the skin of my bottom lip, and immediate Kill Bill alarms go off in my head. I can’t exactly pin point the taste, but I feel like it would be similar to that of licking your finger after swirling it around in your belly button for a bit. Na.

I pop up like a damn toaster strudel, look him in the eye, and go: “Yeah, I’m not doing that”.

Silence.

We stare at each other for a bit, and he asks why.

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Fuck you mean why?! You KNOW why.

 

I just tell him that I didn’t feel like it, which ensues another painful silence, which I momentarily break to tell him to “twiddle your balls or something”. Shockingly, my professional advice did not do much to salvage things.

 

Now, his juice box straw penis has wilted, which he blames on the condom (HA). I’m obviously over it, and he’s embarrassed. Time to get high!

I smoke beside him, and politely wait for him to kindly get the fuck out of my home.

He eventually makes up some bullshit about having his personal driver (who he pays 40 big ones a year apparently), waiting for him downstairs. Now I know is a lie cause he already told me he took an uber here, but didn’t care too much cause I was barely listening cause I was texting.

Long story short: Always ask for a dick pic.