

### 0

### QUOTA

### Φ

### QUOTA

###...How one Pledge created the funniest sex/drinking stories for men.

### By: Ron Voyage

Copyright 2013 by: Ron Voyage

Cover designed by: Jerrett Harris

Cover Creative Direction by: Ron Voyage

Published on Smashwords

Formatted by eBooksMade4You

* * *

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

* * *

Testimonies

Have you got your Quota in yet?*

My 23rd Birthday*

QUOTA PHI QUOTA SLOR POLICY*

Wingman Chronicles*

Take one for the team

Challenge of the Month: The Ann Frank

Race Switcheroo

Sweet Nothings: Sit-com Reassurance

Three's a crowd

Truth or Dare

Q PHI Q ON BI-ASSNESS:

Loko up!

Q PHI Q VIOLATION:

It's my party and I'll cry if I want too

Let's get bizzzz..ARE?

The Girl with the Dove Tattoo

Sweet Nothings: Midget pick-up lines

Trapped in the Bedroom

Challenge of the Month: JP's Deadskeet Dad

Beat The Pussy Up

Are you writing this down?

The Great Corrupter

Now that's Customer Service!

The Puke Stories

Gag Order

Challenge of the Month: The Simba

Four Lokos falls

Sweet Nothings: The Kids were good today

The Human Centipede

Q PHI Q VIOLATION: LYING ON YOUR DICK

It's a Secret Society, All we ask is Lust!

Honorable Mentions

* * *

Have you got your Quota in?

(Occurred 2009)

By: Brother Ron Voyage

Doctor: "The average man actually only sleeps with 5 women in his lifetime."

I stared at my family's pediatrician and waited for him to add "..in the 1960's" to his sentence.

There was no way that number was accurate. He must not have adjusted it for inflation.

For the first time in a while I started to question my dad's recommendation in doctors. I had come to this doctor just for a regular checkup only find out that my instincts and Socrates had something in common: they both didn't trust a guy who thinks he's a fucking encyclopedia. After visiting the quack for the first and last time, I decided to do a little research myself on the subject.

Turns out he wasn't too far off.

According to The Health Survey for England, the average nookie number for men is actually bedding nine women in their lifetime. Even an official logo name like the "HSE" and boasts of interviewing thousands of Englishmen couldn't shake my belief that the number was just way too low.

I guess when you come from a circle of friends who each knock down at least 12 sugar walls a year your view of average can be a tad warped. But that's what happens when you take a friend's personal goal of getting one new notch on his belt every month and turning it into your own.

When brother Dbo told me he met a goal for 3 years of slaying a different pussy every month and calling it his "Quota", I laughed my ass off.

Sure I knew guys who fucked over a hundred women before meeting Dbo, but I never met someone who made getting new pussy every month a non-negotiable priority.

Leave it to the guy who only eats tilapia in order to stay fit for his underwear model shoots to make getting some new vag a dietary must.

I met this beast of a man at a high school party in '07 when he was drunk trying to dance with his shirt off. With tats on his arms and lip-chap on his lips, he's the definition of a reformed tough guy turned into play-girl model. He's the guy that brags about his three percent body fat on his Facebook status and then fucks the horny twenty year-old Spanish hyenas that like it.

I was not sure if I found his idea of the Quota completely ridiculous or I was just afraid to grow a pair to try it myself.

The morals that my parents instilled in me said that the Quota was unsafe and shallow, but having the game to bed a different girl every thirty days played in my head like an ultimate fantasy.

I was never the guy to die a virgin, but I was far from a ladies' man growing up. In high school, I had a bad case of being too much of a pussy to pursue the tail that I wanted so I would have to settle for the hunchback of the high-school. The second girl I had ever been inside was so gruesome that I almost got into a fight with a so-called friend after he told the whole school about our debauchery.

What was more humiliating was I actually would WALK three miles to fuck the girl before sneaking out of her house so my best friend next door wouldn't suspect anything.

When you're trying to hide the fact that you're hooking up with a girl during the time when it is deemed a rite of passage for a teenage boy, there's a problem.

The quantity and quality of women I had actually been with was WAY below the average by the time I graduated high school in '07 and the Quota seemed like a fun excuse to raise my stats. But my fear of getting rejected by women was too powerful for me to take the challenge so the quota was just reduced to another dream that I didn't think was possible.

Luckily, life is like a prison cell mate. It has a funny way of bullying your pride into a corner, leaving you no choice but to suck its dick or to knock its fucking block off.

On 2009's New Year's Eve, my pride had enough.

When I saw brother Corrupter ring in the New Year by fucking his hundred and something blonde outside his parent's house, I was tired of smelling latex and bodily fluids that weren't my own. While everyone at Corrupter's house each stated their own New Year's resolution, mine had become clear:

I wanted my own Quota but I wanted to make it my own.

Ron: "I'm going to fuck a girl from a different race every month."

Everyone grinned at my drunken smirk before taking an awkward drink from their cups. Even though I felt like Special Ed who just slurred out his love for apple sauce, I lowered my Disaronno on the rocks to my lips and gulped it down in the most determined way I could.

This was the first time I had ever made a New Year's resolution, and I intended to keep it.

It took a lot of researching seduction, hanging out with guys with game, and kicking the habit of being a pussy, but by the end of January 2010 I had fucked my first Indian girl. In February, I fucked my first Irish girl. In March, I had fucked my first African girl. In April, I had taken my first virginity from a twenty-three year old who was saving herself for MARRIAGE.

For two years straight, The Quota transformed me into a sex machine.

My "fuck-it" list was being marked down so fast that I had to tweak my resolution to "either a different race I haven't fucked before," or "has a certain major trait that I had not sexually conquered yet," just so I could continue the challenge.

My brother and my friends soon caught wind of my successes with my little experiment and started to ask my new-found secret to pounding poon.

Their eyes widened with excitement and thirst when I let them into my and Dbo's little hobby. Soon many of them started to get their own Quotas in.

Although few really took the time to study the art of seduction like I did to meet their monthly Quota, the simple act of setting a goal to split a new pair of pink lips every month did wonders for their ass options.

It also did wonders for the funniest true drinking and fucking stories in the _Hall of Hook-ups_. We were sharing so many disgusting, amazing, and fuck-up sex/drinking stories with each other, Dbo thought it was a good idea to make a private group page on Facebook about it as a joke.

Since he wanted to be an Alpha when he went back to college, Dbo named the group Q PHI Q for Quota Phi Quota. Minus the community service (unless required by law) and beating the shit of pledges, we were a lot like a frat since we also got hammered and nailed sororities.

The only difference is we don't charge our pledges a couple grand for dues every semester.

Shit, we don't even make them drink toilet water.

We only require a commitment to wash their trouser snakes in a new birth canal every month and share the experience with their brethren if noteworthy. In order to protect our hearts from _slordom_ and keeping pussy off the pedestal we also created certain rules of conduct.

In order to protect the lives of my brethren, I have masked their identities with aliases that match their character. Nevertheless, this book is a true testimony to what we have eternalized through our experiences with this pledge and to each other.

We are the Quota PHI Quota. Now hear us WHORE!

* * *

My 23rd Birthday weekend

(April 2012 Denton/Dallas, TX)

By: Brother Ron Voyage

They say you know when you're getting older when you look at the anniversary out of the womb as just another day. You don't expect gifts. You don't expect a surprise party. Hell, some people feel lucky just to get a phone call or an occasional b-day BJ.

This was my mind-set on the dawn of turning twenty-three years old.

No epic blow-out party in Vegas. Not even an upscale dinner with my family. The only thing I had planned was just a trip to see the Mavericks play with one of my college homies and that happened only because a mutual homegirl of ours had some extra tickets.

It wasn't a harem of Asian nymphos ready to fellate me but hey - it's the thought that counts right?

The only problem was that the game was going down on my birthday which was on Friday, and here I was stuck in stupid Thursday. It was 8pm and I was sitting on my couch watching TV. ALL ALONE. I felt like Snoop Dogg when his parents left him at home in that Gin N Juice video and he screamed "AAAAAAHHHHH," right before getting fucked up and banging out a house party of hoes using a rainbow of rubbers. Only I couldn't think of any bitches qualified to give me my birthday sex. Just then my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID to see the name "Shelly."

_Looks like the pussy wagon is coming to pay its respects tonight_. I answered the phone.

Ron: "Yo."

Shelly: "Heeeeyy, what are you doing?! I'm with three of my friends from work and we're bored. Can we come over?"

Shelly and I had fucked once a couple of years back on a park bench after about eight minutes of getting to know each other. Ever since then we have kept in touch and became pretty good friends, once she started taking classes at UNT. Even though boyfriends always seemed to get in the way of another smash session, she always kept a steady stable of smuts, which were all salivating to take her place.

Ron: "Sure."

Shelly: "Ok, we are bringing a bottle."

And I didn't even have to remind her. Good girl.

Twenty minutes later, Shelly and her friends showed up at my place with a handle of Smirnoff, cranberry juice, and orange juice. One of her friends was one of those black hipster feminists who looked like she could be real cute, but refused to conform to the male specimen.

The short one looked like _Lord of the Rings_ if it actually had she-goblins in it.

The second one was a thick, pasty white chick with nappy red-colored hair that was wrapped up on one side of her head.

I looked on her chest and saw "Accept your fate" tatted in blue ink.

Hmmmmm, I wonder if yellow cock is on that fate list?

Since she worked at a bar and goblins are natural servants, the goblin started making everyone drinks and we all started the college ritual of Kings Cup.

If you haven't heard of Kings Cup, it's a drinking game that deals with a deck of cards. Each player has a turn drawing a card and the entire table must play a drinking game depending on the suit of the card.

I'm not going to list out all the possible games, because it would take too long.

Google it.

I will tell you about my favorite sub-game of King's Cup that is called "never have I ever." When one player draws a five from the pile everyone must hold up three fingers and take turns saying something that they have never done. Whenever someone hears something that they've done before they have to put down a finger. The first one with all their fingers down must drink. I lose this game almost EVERY TIME I play it, but it is VERY informative in telling me my sexual options concerning the women playing it.

Any game that can help give you your first threesome should be packaged and sold at Spencers!

Somebody at the table picked up that lucky number five and everyone started naming those fantasies that had yet to happen.

Hipster chick: "Never have I ever fucked in a park!"

That Bitch!

Shelly and I lowered our last finger while awkwardly taking a sip from our cups.

As the pile of cards dwindled, we got more and more toasted. And when Ron Voyage gets toasted he wants to shag.

Time to score some birthday poon.

I looked to my left at pasty and struck up a conversation with her. She didn't really say anything worth remembering until she pulled out her phone and started showing me pictures of her twin sister. I took the phone to see if the sibling was threesome worthy and almost busted out laughing in front of the girl.

It turns out that I had a sloppy make-out session with her twin sister a few months back at the famous Gaylord Texan hotel during one of Shelly's parties. The twin and I were supposed to hook up later on that week, but nothing happened after that night.

Damn! The twin was actually a lot sexier than pasty.

I pushed this thought out of my brain once my tongue was down pasty's throat and decided the slightly mutated twin was my last chance for birthday twat.

I offered pasty a tour of the upstairs of my apartment because I had some artwork to show her.

Pasty: "Ok!"

Everyone else watched us as we headed upstairs.

Even though I said I was going to show her artwork, we both knew that the only art worth mentioning was the sculpture of Captain Hook in my pants.

Once we got in my bedroom I gave her a brief tour of my favorite piece on my wall before proceeding to suck her face. She grabbed my head as I grabbed her ass and carried her into my bathroom. When I turned off the lights, we recreated the mating scene in _Species 2_.

I ripped off her shirt and bra. She ripped off my shirt and swim trunks. I ravaged her pasty pink nipples while her hands tested the durability of Captain Hook. I then politely asked her in whore language to fellate me.

Ron: "Suck my dick."

I pushed her head down to my furry exhibit.

Pasty: "I don't suck dick." She resisted my downward push of her shoulders.

I acted like I didn't hear her and continued to make out with her.

Maybe she needs a little more foreplay.

I played with her pussy and tits as we played with tongues. When I tried to push her down on her knees again and she STILL pretended as though she was too good to suck dick!

Ron: "Fine! Get on top of me!"

Pasty: "Do you have a condom?"

I opened the door, grabbed a condom off my desk, and came back to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet as she straddled me and guided the hook into her abyss.

Pasty: "Oooo. You're so big!"

As unique as fucking on a toilet is I was feeling a little confined, so I told her to go to my bed. I locked the door to my room and we started to do missionary style. I don't know what this girl kept in her pussy, but I wish I could duplicate it and sell it to all of female kind.

Her pussy wasn't really that tight, but my dick just fit in like a glove. It was almost as if she had a hand in there that was jacking me off while I was humping her. After only about fifteen humps I pulled out to bust into the condom.

She looked up at me as I withered on top of her until my dick went limp.

Pasty: "Well, let's go back downstairs."

I could tell in her tone she was a little disappointed.

O well, she's just jealous she couldn't get her nut in five minutes. Looks like my genitals are more time efficient.

We got dressed and took our walk of shame downstairs. As everyone laughed and goaded us on our smash session, I realized that we had no more alcohol and it was past midnight.

This was not cool.

On a level of drunkenness, I was only on a level 8 at best and I had sweat out much of the alcohol during the sex with pasty. And in conservative ass Texas all the liquor stores closed around nine.

Fuck.

Just then the doorbell rang. I answered the door and saw my homeboy Jon had arrived.

Jon: "Happy birthday, son! You want to go to Fry?"

If you've ever gone to _University of North Texas_ or _Texas Women's University_ you know that Fry Street is a small street that is lined up with bars and restaurants that sits right next to UNT's campus. Students, hipsters, and bar rats go to these places every week from Wednesday through Sunday to get shit-house drunk from the bar's 50 cents wells. This magical place has actually been labeled number one for the cheapest place to get shit-faced on some list.

And for good reason.

Fry Street is famous for its "Fry Street crawl" tradition which gives those lucky birthday boys and girls one free shot for their birthday at each bar. It's called the crawl, because after those special people get one shot at each of the seven bars on the street they usually end up having to crawl home.

Throughout all of my years at UNT, I had never gone on a crawl for my birthday, but I had been on a few of them with my friends. And I've seen the crawl take down some of the toughest drinkers. Sounded like the perfect answer to get blackout drunk and not having to pay a dime.

Ron: "Who's going to drive?"

I had just got a DUI, so I was mad paranoid to drive with even two drinks in my system.

Jon: "I'll get my roommate to drive us."

Ron: "Let's Go!"

We drove to his place and took some Jager Bombs before his roommate dropped us off at the starting point of the bars on Fry Street called Lucky Lou's.

After the pothead door man congratulated me on my b-day being on 4/20, I found a bartender to order me my first free shot: a buttery nipple. Taking that shot was my last memory of this night.

I was so smashed that I couldn't remember the SEVEN other shots that I had taken later that night. The rest of the story is an account of Jon's, Brother Kenny, Brother RJ, and my DAD:

As I walked out of Lucky Lou's, I ran into a girl I thought was worthy for b-day sex phase 2. I grabbed her by her stomach to get her attention. Strangely, she got spooked by my gentlemen advances.

After getting my next shot at the Side Bar, I tried my caveman grab again on a thick mixed girl and had her sit next me. She told me she was waiting on someone so I decided to keep her company with my tongue in her mouth.

Then we walked into another bar called The Garage. Apparently, Jon thought it was funny to get me fucked up because even though I was CLEARLY shit-faced he still kept getting me drinks.

Jon: "TAKE ANOTHER SHOT BIRTHDAY BOY!"

I was about eight shots in when I made it to the second to last bar on Fry, which is called the Tavern. While stumbling across the dance floor to get another shot at the bar, I noticed a skinny Mexican girl dancing by herself.

I pulled up behind SkinnyMexican and started to do my trademark pelvic thrust dance on her pancake ass. Thrilled that she finally found a dancing partner, she moved closer to me as I wrapped my arms around her.

Jon and SkinnyMexican's jealous girlfriend watched as I held her close to my chest so my chin came over her shoulder. With my eyes completely closed we started to slow wind to our own rhythm. The Tavern's judging eyes seemed to disappeared as we continued to grind as one like two eels mating.

This must be the closest thing to your first dance with your new wife.

Jon noticed that JealousGirlfriend was about to pull a robbery, so he started to distract her as Me and SkinnyMexican made love with our clothes on. No matter how fast the music was going or how many eyes were bulging at us, SkinnyMexican's hips followed my slow, but passionate movement, no questions asked. She didn't even turn her head to look at me.

In that moment, She was my ride or die bitch.

She was The Beauty who looked past the town's judgments for this drunken beast to find a creature that hungered for passion.

And lips. I wanted to kiss her.

I moved my hands up SkinnyMexican's petite figure to her neck. She melted as I tipped her chin upwards to receive her reward...

JealousGirlfriend reached out, grabbed SkinnyMexican's arm, and tore her away from me.

For a good five seconds I was heartbroken.

Crushed.

Ron: "PSSSSSSSS."

And then I remembered that Jon did boxing training with the bartender. And bartender was hooking me up with a free shot.

When I stumbled over to the bar Jon and I did two rounds before I passed out head first on the bar's counter. The bartender came over to ask if I was going to throw up. I lifted my head long enough to tell him no before dropping my head back to the hard bar with a THUD. The bartender then told me I couldn't sleep on the bar.

The bartender then told me I had to leave. I lifted my head for a moment to look for Jon.

Jon was nowhere to be found.

I continued my search on my way stumbling out of the Tavern but I got distracted by a girl that made me happy in my pants.

I walked over to her to make my b-day sex attempt ratio 2 for 15. Just then Brother Kenny and Devion walked in to see the drunken style master at work. Not only was my hand grasping this girl's shoulder in an attempt to keep me from falling over on my back, but my eyes were COMPLETELY SHUT. Already aware of my level of toastedness, Kenny walked up to us.

Kenny: "Ron, RON! Look at my face right now!"

Not even bothering to open my eyes, I turned to him.

Ron: "MAN, I'ddddd.. loog.. . This girl man."

Kenny: "Tell me what your name is!!"

Ron: "Man ju annnn..."

Kenny: "Aight man it's time to go! Man it's time to go."

Kenny turned to Devion. "Ay man, I'm finna to take this nigga home. You see how fucked up he is? Let's go!"

Both of them started to drag me out of the bar.

Some whore my brother hooked up with walks up to us as we were leaving.

Whore: "Ron!? No wait! We have to call his brother RJ."

Kenny: "HOL UP! CH- CHILLLL! I FINNA TO TAKE HIM HOME WHERE HIS BROTHER IS RIGHT NOW! So just calm down!"

But this whore was persistent.

Whore:"Baby what's your brother's number? What's his number?"

Somehow I managed to spit out a phone number to her and she called it.

Whore: "Hey is this Ron's brother with the dreads?"

The tired voice on the phone: "No."

Whore: "Well I'm here with him right now and he's really drunk. I've never seen him like this and I was making sure you were home when he got home."

Tired voice: "Well, is he driving?"

Whore: "No, he has a friend with him."

Tired voice: "Well, is his friend drunk?"

Whore: "No, he's not drunk."

Tired voice: "Ok well, this is not his brother this is his dad. But thank you for letting me know."

The whore turned to me with a shocked look on her face:

Whore: "You had me call your DAD!?"

Ron: "Fuuuuuh faaafuuu."

Kenny grabbed the phone out of the whore's hand to tell my dad that he was sober enough to drive me home. Devion and Kenny then continued to drag me to the parking lot as I continued to stumble and mercilessly hit on any chick that we encountered on the way.

Like a true asshole, Kenny took out his phone and started to record me when I stopped a group of black girls in order to invite them back to my apartment's pool.

Kenny: "WALK nigga! You good foo. You Gucci!"

I must have misinterpreted Kenny's meaning behind Gucci, because instead of walking like I had some high-end class, I started to walk as if Gucci Mane had a retard walk to go along with his music. My arms were to my chest and I took each step as if I weren't able to bend my knees. I looked like a one year old with cerebral palsy trying to learn how to walk.

I turned my head to another group of girls.

Ron: "HEY! HEEY!"

But Thavion pulled me away toward Kenny's car.

Ron: "AAAAAAAAALLLLLIGHT. The hoes. The hoes certified, aight?"

Both Kenny and Devion burst into laughter as I managed to pull my body away from Devion to turn to Kenny and his camera.

Ron: "Forreal forreal, let's go over there and just.."

I tried to push him towards the girls.

Devion: "Naw man they gone."

Ron: "Naw seriously, come on! Come on, nigga. Come on!"

But Kenny just laughed.

Kenny: "We gotta go bro; the laws is out here and shit!"

This is the last thing a guy who just got his first DWI two months ago wants to hear.

Denton County jail is a miserably cold place that I wasn't spending my belated birthday in. I darted as fast as my piss-drunk ass could take me toward a near-by white pick-up truck to duck for cover.

My two gracious chauffeurs ran after me laughing their asses off.

Kenny: "HAHAHAHHAHA. What are you doing foo?!"

I opened the front passenger door of the white pick-up truck and sat down. Laughing hysterically, Kenny explained to the driver of the car how shit-faced I was before dragging me out to throw me into his car.

Once we finally got back to my place Kenny threw me in my guest room where the goblin had passed out after getting fucked by one of my cousin's homeboys. I tried to take off my swim trunks and climb in the bed with the Goblin, but instead I fell face first on the carpet with my trunks at my ankles.

Once Jon had checked every cop car and crevice on Fry Street he decided to check my apartment to see if I had made it back home.

My brother had answered the door and told Jon I was passed out in the guest room. When Jon entered the room and saw me lying on the carpet bare-ass with the Goblin sleeping in the bed he decided to call it a night.

When I woke up the next morning, the only sign of the Goblin was one of her brown boots lying in the corner.

If she did fuck me, she's still owes me some goblin gold.

* * *

Later on that day, Tony and I finally got to the American Airlines Center to watch the Mavs game. Our homegirl Neli was completely wasted when she handed us our tickets.

Neli:"YAAAAAYYY, IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY!"

Even though Mavs game was not as equally entertaining as the night before it's always fun watching Dirk squash shitty teams like the Golden State Warriors.

After the game I had got a text about an all Asian party in Denton from this Vietnamese girl named "B". Up to this point in my life I had completed pretty much everything on my "fuck-it" list.

Mexican girl. Virgin. Threesome.

I had felt I had reached a level of trim that only porn stars could see. But there was still one more sexual feat that I had yet to conquer: the Asian.

I always felt that the Asian fortune cookie was as forbidden for the black man as country clubs were. Only a selected few were chosen, and they were probably in a completely different tax-bracket than me. So when I asked the Vietnamese girl "B" if I could bring Tony, his roommate Todd, and our friend Kirk to the party, she texted me this:

" _If ya'll bring some drinks, come. I am single and I dig you, so I'll dig your friends."_

I felt I was on a mission that didn't seem so impossible.

Unfortunately, by the time we got there B and her friends had already chosen their dick suppliers for the night. Even passionate kisses and my panty-wettening lap dances could not seal the deal. But Ron Voyage ALWAYS has a back-up plan.

Around the beer pong table I saw a short, cute, mixed girl. Her hair was cut in a short straight bob. Her skin's high yellow tone went perfect with the brown cowboy boots she wore. I observed her a bit while Todd tried to work his magic on her. She seemed to smile and engage almost any guy that came up to her. This would be too easy. I stepped to her.

Ron: "You must be a TWU girl."

She smiled like a little girl that had been caught in a lie: "How did you know?"

TWU girls are the EASIEST of girls because ninety percent of the student body is women and six percent are gay guys. And that does not include the lesbian population.

It's actually an urban legend that women out-number men so much there that the water supply in Denton has higher than usual estrogen levels. There is such a lack of men that whenever "TDubbers" are around guys they will fuck like a lonely nymph on ecstasy.

Hell, these girls are surrounded by females so much that they will pounce even when they see a chick that looks she might have an oversized clitoris to sit on. A pre-fame Forest Whitaker would have a hard time NOT getting laid around TWU.

The best part about these TDubbers is once you've experienced them you can pick one out of a crowd just by observing on how receptive she is.

Ron: "So which T-Dubber are you? The bi-sexual or the strictly dickly?"

Yellow bone: "Taha, definitely the strictly dickly."

Ron: "Good."

I told the girl that I could barely hear her in the living room because of the noise, so I brought her into the hallway by one of the bedrooms. As I talked to her, a decent looking Jewish black chick walked up and introduced herself as the yellow bone's roommate. Something about the Jewish black chick's over-applied blush and valley-girl accent told me she was a booshie female who was brought up to believe real men put their jackets over puddles to keep her from getting her Jimmy Choos wet.

Seeing that the yellow-bone was clearly on my nuts, Booshie asked the yellow-bone if she had a ride to some other party that she wanted to check out. At first I offered to take her, but then I remembered my initial quest for an Asian fortune cookie.

Ron: "My friends actually want to stay here. So I'll get your number and call you later."

The Yellow-bone looked at Booshie for permission. Booshie gave her a nod that told her I was a cool guy.

Girls love to depend on their friends to co-sign their cock-suppliers so they can put part of the guilt on their friends if she gets fucked over.

Whatever gets the job done I always say!

She gave me her number and left for the other party. Once she was gone, I was free to make-out with B and get lap dances from her Asian friends.

* * *

The next day I called over the yellow-bone to invite her to a party I had heard about in an apartment complex I had once lived in. She came by with Booshie and another girl who had a boyfriend.

Looks like this would be a job for Brother Dbo!

There are few guys that can keep up with me with women, but Dbo constantly would not only see my foreign slut, he would raise me a Hispanic MILF on the monthly. He was the first guy that showed me that fucking a different girl every month was not only possible, but essential to living. This guy pulls more pussy off of Facebook than a rich John does at the Bunny Ranch.

I knew he would make one hell of a wingman, especially with hors. The yellow-bone's booshie roomie didn't have a chance when Dbo walked into my apartment.

Booshie bitches are his specialty.

After all the pleasantries, we piled up in my car and headed to the party. We were walking up to crowd by the entrance of the party, when we heard some loud clapping noises by a green Camry parked near the entrance. At first I thought they were gun shots, so I told everyone to get behind a car for a second. Suddenly, I heard some female voices arguing back and forth before seeing two girls arguing with one lone girl. The lone girl quickly jumped into the driver's seat of the Camry and slammed the door shut.

Hoodrat1: "Get the fuck out the car ho!"

The lone-girl in the Camry pulled out of the parking space while the Hoodrat1 and Hoodrat2 continued to goad her to get out of the car to fight. Instead of driving off, the lone girl steered the Camry to face the two Hoodrats and then hit the gas.

Hoodrat2: "O hell naw!"

Hoodrat1 dove behind another parked car before the car hit her but Hoodrat2 wasn't so lucky.

CRUNCH!

The car slammed into Hoodrat2 and screeched to a stop before hitting the car that Hoodrat1 dove behind. Hoodrat2 rolled on top of the hood and onto the windshield. The lone girl quickly reversed the Camry causing Hoodrat2 to roll off the front of its hood and onto the street. The lone girl then angled the Camry towards us and hit the gas.

Ron: "EVERYONE GET OUT OF THE STREET!"

The car came so fast I barely had enough time to push the yellow-bone out of the street before it sped past us and out of the parking lot.

Hoodrat2 miraculously jumped to her feet and tore after the car.

Girl 2: "FUCK NO! SOMEONE GET THAT BITCHES PLATES."

It took me a full 30 seconds to process what my eyes had just seen. I thought I was in a dream until the Booshie started to bitch.

Booshie: "NO, I'M NOT GOING IN THERE! CAN WE JUST GO BACK TO YOUR APARTMENT?!"

I laughed at her reaction and agreed to drive back. I'd rather get pussy than go to an overcrowded college party any night.

When we got back I called my brother to tell him to invite females with liquor and to be quick about it. I put on some Big KRIT and soon Kenny showed up with some girls who had some Absolute Vodka, Goldschlager, and tequila. And all of them wanted to take Birthday shots with me.

Happy Birthday indeed >;)

By the time I was liquored up on tequila, seventeen people were in my apartment drinking, flirting, and beer ponging. The perfect get together that was completely unplanned. My favorite.

KNOCK KNOCK!

Uh oh.

That was definitely not the neighbors trying to borrow some sugar.

I went to the door and opened it to see what look like Miss Piggy, Peter Griffin, and Lieutenant Dan all in cop uniforms.

Ron: "Is there a problem officers?"

Miss Piggy: "Yea, you don't hear that music?! I can hear it from the street!"

Ron: "Oh, ok we'll turn it off." I turned my head towards the party. "TURN THE MUSIC OFF!"

When someone flipped off the music I turned my head to the bizarre looking cops.

Ron: "We turned it off."

Miss Piggy: "Everyone must also leave."

Ron: "Why?"

Due to the shock and fury on this cop's face, you would think that I would have said something like: "FUCK YOU MISS PIGGY! GO BOSS KERMIT THE FROG AROUND BEFORE I MAKE BACON BITS OUT OF YOUR ASS!"

Miss Piggy: "Ok, either everyone is leaving or you're going to jail!"

I turned to the party and said in the most convincing way I could.

Ron: "Ok, everyone has to leave!" While signaling to the people inching toward the door to get back and stay quiet. I turned back to the trio of super troopers to see if they were satisfied, but they still stood there waiting for me to kiss their ass. Miss Piggy asked for my ID which I gave to her.

Lieutenant Dan: "I DON'T THINK THEY HEARD YOU MISTER JOHNSON!"

Ron: "EVERYONE HAS TO LEAVE!"

Miss Piggy tried to push the door open to get a closer look inside but I stopped the door.

Ron: "You can't come in here."

Miss Piggy: "You can't have everyone leave with this door only cracked open."

Finally getting nauseated from her bacon smell I opened the door slightly to allow everyone out. Miss Piggy peaked through the widened crack to spot my friend Kenny's weed pipe on the coffee table in the living room.

Miss Piggy: "Oh, and is that a pipe?!"

Before I could answer her stupid question, She shoved the door completely open so she, Peter Griffin and Lieutenant Dan could walk into my apartment.

She walked over to the pipe on the table like a cop who just had found her bag of crack to put a dope fiend away on COPS.

Miss Piggy: "Oh and there's some residue too! Who's pipe is this?"

There is only one exception that you should answer questions from a cop: when your shit has been stolen or your life is in danger.

All that shit they feed you about being honest with them and they will let you off easy is usually BULLSHIT.

I believe that many cops and laws are meant to keep us safe and civil, but like any human establishment that was made with good intentions they are always exploited by money-hungry tools. In most cases the legal system is just like any other business in this country in doing whatever it can to get the almighty dollar.

Whenever a cop arrests you or gives you a ticket for something, it's like a sales person trying to sell you something that you can't refuse because if you do refuse your ass is an inch closer to the slammer.

Answering their questions only gives them more charges to put on your tab.

Ron: "I don't know."

Miss Piggy: "You don't know whose pipe this is?"

Ron: "Nope."

Miss Piggy: "Did you know that someone was smoking in here?"

Ron: "No."

Miss Piggy: "Did you know I can still write you up for having it in your house?"

Ron: "No I didn't."

Q-tip: "BAAAARRK, BAAARK!"

Lieutenant Dan: "Restrain your dog Mr. Johnson or I will!"

I looked over on the couch to see my seven pound Bichon Frise Q-tip snarling at the duece lord while he reached for his TASER. I looked at Lieutenant Dan in disgust and I quickly snatched Q-tip up to lock him up in my room.

When I came back downstairs, Miss Piggy kicked out the remainder of the people in the apartment including the yellow-bone and Booshie. When the yellow-bone walked past me and the cops, she gave me a look that told me I was a bad boy and I was going to get some punishing sex later on.

Time to speed this process up by shutting the fuck up.

Kenny: "Ma'am you don't have to do this. You could smash that pipe in the street and be on your way."

Miss Piggy: "Oh, I am taking the pipe and I was going to let you guys off, but your roommate over here is giving me attitude."

Since when has asking questions been considered legally "attitude"?

I refused to take that bait. I sat on the couch and just stared into space.

Miss Piggy: "I'm not going to charge you for the pipe. But I am giving you a noise citation. We like cooperation and...OINK OINK OINK." Ok, she didn't squeal like a pig, but I'm sure it sounded something like that.

Dbo started to say something, but I cut in.

Ron: "Dbo! Don't say nothing! Just let them write their ticket and let them be on their way!"

Lieutenant Dan: "MR. JOHNSON HE'S A GROWN MAN! LET HIM SPEAK FOR HIMSELF!"

Ron: "I'M AWARE, HE ALSO HAS THE RIGHT TO REMAIN SILENT AND I'M REINFORMING HIM!"

Dbo: "I ain't saying nothing bro, because we are four brothers in a room full of cops."

Want to get rid of a cop quick?

Play the race card as soon as they talk about punishment.

The next eight minutes was so uncomfortably awkward you would have thought that Rodney King was going to jump through the window holding a camera while screaming, "YOUR MOVE POPOS!"

Miss Piggy just gave us the option to vote on whose name she would put on the noise violation. We decided to put the ticket in my brother's name since I still had a DWI pending. I almost felt as though my brother should have gotten the pussy for the night for taking the pinch.

But since everyone agreed that I would have to pay for most of the 270 dollar ticket then I would have to agree to getting my dick sucked.

After the goof troop and Kenny left, I called the yellow-bone and Booshie back over. They both showed up in sweats and in pajamas like they were ready for a sleep over.

After Dbo, Booshie, the yellow-bone, and me pretended to watch Water for Elephants for twenty minutes in the living room, Dbo and Booshie disappeared in the guest room.

I took yellow-bone upstairs and beat her pussy up so raw it had to take a vacation for two weeks. Think I'm exaggerating?

The next time we tried to fuck she was in so much pain that she had to schedule a gynecologist visit. Her gynecologist said that I left her uterus so sore that she couldn't fuck for two WEEKS! Well, that's what she gets for leaving all those claw marks on my arms.

My friends thought I was fucking Catwoman!

* * *

QUOTA PHI QUOTA SLOR POLICY:

When a QPQ gets a couple of slor flags (thirstiness, spilling her life story too early, flirting with every cock in the room, hands over the clam pouch too early, hangs out with zoo animals she calls friends ((indication of insecurity))) from a girl he's talking to. TWO options must be taken to insure his membership.

Option 1: BACKGROUND CHECK: He must consult with the girl's friends and family to find out if she was once the neighborhood nut-rag.

CAUTION: If you ask her girlfriends for intel don't take what her girlfriend SAYS too literally. Read her girlfriend's BODY LANGUAGE to pick up indicators of BS when they try play "girl code" and hide their girlfriends hooker happenings.

If her girlfriends scrunch their lips and eyes as if they want to tell to the girl's weekly Eiffel towers with two guys she's most likely a whore.

BEWARE: Although she might have guy friends like us who keep it real, most girls always keep a bag of simps who want to fuck the girl. These simps are too delusional to realize that they are only food for the girl's ego. THESE FUCKERS ARE THE WORST LIARS and will most likely feed you some bad info in order for you treat a lady like a slag so they can come and pick up the pieces.

It might be hard but keep on the investigation until you have fairly accurate depiction of her past sexual encounters before letting your guard down. Also know that if she was a whore in the past but has a couple of months between that past and now she is can be deemed a recovering whore. If the recovering whore's STD tests checks out she can still be considered "datable" as long as you are not friends with the crew she played "choo-choo train" with.

Now if her background check comes back with WAY too many red flags then just know she is a slor and must be treated accordingly. Which leads me to option 2:

D-Bo's INSURANCE POLICY: Fuck a different girl (old booty call or new booty) while you are talking with this girl just in case she gets drunk one night and slips "accidentally" on a dick. This is to protect you from any public or personal humiliation for being loyal to a skank who you might have mistaken for the "one". It's also reinforces that wall that keeps slors from owning our emotions with a full metal jacket.

HEED THESE WORDS MY BROTHERS AND WE SHALL BE ONE STEP AHEAD OF ALL SIMPS!

This message is proudly sponsored by the Quota Phi Quota.

* * *

The Wingman Chronicles

Take one for the Team

(June 2010 Dallas, TX)

As told from: Brother Dbo

Written by: Brother Ron Voyage

Brother Eddie was dating a fat girl.

When I say Fat girl, I don't mean Tocarra fat with 180 lbs and curves. I mean the Ray Lewis of fat bitches. She had to be 210 lbs give or take. She was terrible.

Eddie had met her on myspace and messaged her for two weeks before they both agreed to meet up. We had to drive past her THREE times when Eddie drove us to her house to pick her up the first night they met, because we couldn't believe the mammoth was her.

The porker was standing outside her house in some basketball shorts and a t-shirt.

She obviously wanted to make an impression.

The impression that Eddie must learn in the first law in picking girls up from social media:

If a girl only has pics from the neck up that is only the tip of an iceberg...of a gluttonous giant that is scamming your ass for some genitals.

Eddie: "THAT CAN'T BE HER! CAN'T BE HER BRO!"

Rickey: "That has to be her. The way she described her house... that has to be it."

Dbo: "Call her!"

Eddie speed dialed her number while we ducked in the car. We peeked through our windows just enough to see humpty dump put the phone to her ear.

FatBitch: "Hello?"

Eddie barely had enough time to put the phone on mute before we busted out laughing.

Dbo: "OOOO GOD, IT IS THAT BITCH! HAHAHAHAHA."

Since we're great friends, our homeboy Rickey and I bought Eddie enough beer so he could get drunk enough to have 20/20 vision beer goggles just so he could fuck the blob. Even though he hated filling Fatbitch's crevices he still kept her around because her family was breaded up.

She lived all the way in Balch Springs with her rich doctor mom and cop dad, so we had a routine of getting wasted and driving 30 miles from Coppell to Balch Springs every other weekend to fuck all her friends and drink all her liquor.

This night would be no different.

Eddie called me while I was just chilling at home.

Eddie: "Man I need you to make this drive to FatBitch's house for me."

Dbo: "Cool."

When Eddie got to my house we started chugging alcohol and got ready to head out when his phone rings.

Eddie: "Hello?"

FatBitch: "Hey, ask Dbo if he will take one for the team."

Eddie turns to me and gives me a nonchalant look.

Eddie: "Fatbitch wants to know if you will talk to her friend when we get there."

You know when a girl asks you to "take one for the team" she's asking you to make another addition to your ghosts of pussy past.

Not in my Christmas Carol.

Dbo: "Man, fuck that! I AIN'T TAKING SHIT! I'm about to get fucking drunk and enjoy my night."

Fatbitch must have heard my loud objections through the phone because she quickly started reassuring Eddie with, "No, she seriously doesn't look bad!" and "She has a tattoo on her ass and a tongue ring!"

I snatched the phone from Eddie and put it to my ear

Dbo: "Maaann NO!"

Fatbitch: "She really doesn't look bad!"

I don't know if Eddie picked up FatBitch's friend anyway to get back at me for having him shitfaced into FatBitch's crevices, but her friend REALLY didn't look half-bad.

In terms of a one night stand before college, I knew my mandingo would cooperate since I was already drunk by the time we picked her up. She didn't have anything that stood out about her besides her tongue ring so I'll just call her Slora.

After we picked up my pussy for the night, we all drove to a local liquor store to pick up three handles before we headed back to Eddie's house. As soon as Slora and I got in the backseat of Eddies' mom's car I pulled out my dick and she got to work.

She sucked my dick the whole time we drove to Wal-Mart to pick up some mixers. Eddie turned his head to the back seat to catch a glimpse of Sara's neck work before snapping his eyes back to the road.

Without turning his head he whispered to Fatbitch.

Eddie: "Dbo is getting head from Slora right now!"

Fatbitch only giggled.

When Eddie dropped off Fatbitch, Slora, and me at his place before he left to pick up his mom from work, Slora and I immediately headed upstairs. While we're walking up the stairs I decide to get an early start.

Dbo: "Jeans...down!"

Slora: "What?!"

Dbo: "Pull your fucking jeans down!"

Slora: "Oh my god, could you be any more aggressive?"

Sure!

Once we got to Eddie's room, I gently pushed her to the floor and started to fuck the shit out of her. I was staring at "Dallas Ink" tatted on Slora's ass during doggy style when FatBitch and Eddie walked in on us. Not even bothering to stop, I turned my head and raised my eye brows.

Dbo: "Are ya'll going to get started?"

Fatbitch looked stunned. Eddie looked pissed.

Although he was drunk, he definitely still did not have enough "fuck it" in his system to get over the fact that the "L" I was fucking was far more fuckable than his own girl. The irony was too much for him.

Eddie: "MAN THIS IS BULL SHIT!"

Fatbitch: "What?"

Eddie: "NOTHING! I'm just having a bad fucking night..."

He stormed outside and Fatbitch ran after him.

Between the sounds of Slora's ass claps on my growing, I could hear them arguing outside.

Fatbitch: "Why are you in a bad mood?"

Eddie: "WHY AM I IN A BAD MOOD?! I HAD TO DRIVE FOR FOUR HOURS! MY MOMS IS BITCHING! GAS IS LOW..."

Any complaint that Fatbitch had Eddie would flip it into his own.

Aw. The ol "let's start an argument so I won't have to impale the sperm whale," huh?

I knew this routine. I had stolen it from Eddie many times.

By the time Eddie comes back inside from arguing with Fatbitch, I had already busted three servings of protein paste down Slora's throat.

He walked back into his room to see me sprawled out on his bed with Slora still trying to suck the last few drops of baby batter from my lap log.

I looked over at him.

Dbo: "You going to go for it or not?"

Eddie only hesitated for a second.

Eddie: "Man fuck this!"

Eddie pulled down his boxers to reveal a limp whiskey dick. Slora thought it would be a good idea to help him out and started to suck him off while I hoisted her ass in the air so I could hit it doggy style. Suddenly, she took Eddie's dick out her mouth.

Slora: "Oh my gosh. Don't tell her! We're supposed to be best friends!"

I guess being Eiffel towered by your friend's boyfriend and his best friend was too much for even her anti-slut conscience.

With that, she put Eddie's dick back in her mouth.

Better late than never I suppose.

RING RING

RING RING

In mid-fucking, I glanced over at my phone to see the name Tilly on the display screen. Without slowing down my strokes, I grabbed the phone, pressed answer, and put it to my ear. I hear Tilly's trademark high-shrilled voice on the line.

Tilly: "What ya'll niggas doing tonight man?!"

Dbo: "Nothing Dude. Me and Eddie are nailing this chick! Do not call me again!"

I hung up the phone and got our train back on schedule. Less than three seconds later.

RING RING

I snatched up the phone and answered it again.

Dbo: "MAN I'M FUCKING THIS CHICK!"

Slora pulls Eddie's dick out her mouth again and looks back at me while I'm pounding her.

Slora: "SAY YOU'RE GETTING FUCKED RIGHT NOW!"

She reached back, grabbed the phone, and put it to her ear.

Slora: "I'm having sex right now! I'll call you back."

I grabbed the phone from her to hang it up and we started to fuck again. A couple of seconds go by and Tilly calls my phone AGAIN. I pick it up.

Dbo: "WHAT?!"

Tilly: "OH! BRING HER OVER HERE!"

Dbo: "Dude no, that's a fifteen minute drive. Eddie's not even supposed to be fucking her because his girlfriend is downstairs!"

I hung up the phone for the last time as Eddie gets hard enough to test out Slora's pussy. He only fucks her for about five minutes when he hears his garage door opening. His walrus senses must have been tingling because he pulled himself off Slora and pulled up his basketball shorts. He tore downstairs to meet Fatbitch who was on her way up from crying her eyes out in the garage.

Slora and I kept the party going as we heard Eddie and Fatbitch get into another argument. Soon we see Eddie at the door even more pissed that he didn't get his nut.

Eddie: "We're leaving!"

* * *

On our way to back to Balsh Springs, Eddie gets pulled over for speeding in Carrolton. He handed the cop his license and registration so the cop can run them through his system. The cop didn't look happy when he came back to the window.

Cop: "You know you actually have another speeding ticket out and I can actually put you in jail right now? Step out of the vehicle."

Eddie calmly stepped out of the car and followed the cop to his cruiser.

I started to look for something to distract me from FatBitch's bitching about Eddie's dilemma. I glanced over at Slora sitting next to me in the back seat.

Dbo: "Hey I'm still horny. You want to fuck?"

Slora's face was completely emotionless. These are the perfect signs of a true text-book slor under the influence of penis.

Slora: "Ok."

She bent over to give my staff another kiss as red and blue lights from the cop car flickered on my face.

Fatbitch: "Oh my god! Oh my god! What if Eddie goes to jail?!"

Slora's slob strokes started to pick up. My head rolled to my head rest.

Dbo: "He's not....going to get....arrested."

Sure enough, the cop just gave Eddie another ticket and drove off, yet this did not stop Eddie from getting back in the car more furious than ever.

Eddie: "FUCK! I JUST GOT ANOTHER 180 DOLLAR TICKET. MY NIGHT JUST KEEPS GETTING FUCKING WORSE!"

Once we get further down the highway, I get further in Slora's vag by fucking her from the back in the backseat for a solid fifteen minutes. All we needed was Dirty Sanchez to film us while cracking jokes and we could have made another episode of BangBus.

Slora and I took a short break when Eddie got some gas, but we continued to fuck on our way to take her and Fatbitch home.

In mid-fuck, Eddie gets lost and calls back at us.

Eddie: "Do I need to stay straight here? Or do I need to hit this loop?"

Slora: "Just stay straight."

She put my night-stick back in her mouth to get her last serving of my blo-gurt for the night.

The next day Fatbitch called us up to tell us she had three more friends that wanted to hang out which meant in whore language " **bang** out". Two of them were a pair of Hispanic sisters and one of them was a cute black chick.

Rickey, Eddie, and I picked up some blueberry vodka before picking up the four girls. Rickey mixed some codeine cough syrup, jolly-ranchers, and Sprite into the vodka so Eddie and I could take pulls from it as we followed Rickey in Eddie's mom's car.

When we picked up the girls, Eddie immediately got pissed off once again, since all three girls put his Shamu girlfriend to shame. The 18 year-old black girl was as dark as Wesley Snipes, but she was gorgeous. She had a face of an angel like the dark-skinned girl that Pharrell was swooning on the "Frontin" video.

One of the Hispanic sisters had a nice body but had a face of a rainbow trout. The other one was fat.

It looked like Eddie would be taking the L again tonight.

O well. At least we picked up the liquor beforehand.

Once the introductions were over we split up in cars. The Hispanic sisters drove in Rickey's car. DarkDelishis, Fatbitch, and I drove in Eddie's car.

While we're driving on the highway Rickey pulls up at the side of us and flicks off Eddie. Still pissed off from his whale fetish and fuck up off of the Syrup/vodka mix, Eddie hits the gas hard and speeds ahead. Rickey gunned his G35 to keep up and we started our own scene of _The Fast and The Delirious._

After a few moments of our rage drag, Rickey pulled off the highway while Eddie kept gunning his mom's SUV. Like clockwork, we get pulled over AGAIN.

Eddie couldn't help but chuckle at the irony when the cop came up to Eddie's window.

Cop 1: "Be honest: Have you been drinking tonight?"

Eddie: "Hahaha...Yea."

Cop 1 looked at me.

Cop 1: "How many drinks have you had?"

Dbo: "None. This is my first weekend being on leave. I just got out of basic."

Cop 1: "Oh... well we appreciate your service."

He hesitated for a bit before turning his head back to me.

Cop 1: "I won't take your friend to jail or give him a ticket if you promise to drive for the rest of the night."

Dbo: "I think I can manage that officer."

Eddie and I quickly switched places.

Cop 1: "I used to be in the service. Have fun."

Dbo: "Thank you officer."

A feat not too commonly achieved by two black guys in a car full of women.

Once I drove to Coppell and made sure we were almost home free, Eddie decides if we are going to go up in flames he'd rather be the Captain instead of the co-pilot.

Eddie: "FUCK THIS! This is my mom's car! If anyone is going to wreck this shit it's going to be me!"

After Eddie and I switched places we finally make it back to Eddie's apartment to kill the bottle. Once we got settled in the living room to start drinking, Rickey started to entertain the Hispanic sisters while Eddie was warming up his argument to get out of fucking Fatbitch again. I turned to DarkDelishis.

Dbo: "Let's watch a movie in Eddies' mom's room."

DarkDelishis: "Ok!"

She grabbed my hand and we headed to Eddie's mom's bedroom door.

When we got to the room DarkDelishis laid her stomach on the bed. Her ass arched up through her black Sophie's shorts, like Mt. St. Helens getting ready to erupt. It was a sight that gave me a stroke of genius.

Dbo: "I'll be right back."

Smothering a chocolate ass with baby oil had become too much of a recurring fantasy of mine for me not to take advantage of this opportunity. I remembered leaving some baby oil on Eddie's floor where I had fucked Slora so I headed to Eddie's room.

I cracked opened the door to see Fatbitch naked on top of Eddie. The light from Eddie's TV illuminated Fatbitch's four white rolls like a busted open can of biscuits. She turned her head toward me wearing a mischievous smile like a little kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Eddie turned hauntingly at me with a thousand yard stare like a soldier who had his soul sucked dry from many years of combat.

I quickly picked up the oil off the floor and slowly backed out of the room real Peter Griffin like.

NO MAN deserves to have his friend see him in that condition.

I walked back into Eddie's mom's room with DarkDelishis waiting for me. I waved the bottle of baby oil at her before stripping off her clothes. My hands filled with the jitters when they peeled those skin tight Sophies off her ass cheeks that felt like two Spalding basketballs.

You know that firm yet soft ass that could cause a break out of jungle fever? Yea, THAT ass.

By the time I got done messaging that coco hump with baby oil, it was glistening in the dim light of the room like stirred melted chocolate in a Godiva commercial. My manhood got so solid I could have cut kilos of Columbia's finest with it.

I dove in that brown sugar head first with a little bit of doggy style. My titanic was in cruise control for only five minutes in her pussy before hitting an ice berg. After about six or seven humps, blood slowly started to leak from her pussy onto the bed and she started to wince in pain.

DarkDelishis: "Ow...OWW!"

The fuck?

The pain became so unbearable that she had to stop me. I put my finger down to her pussy to wipe off some of the wetness and put to my face to see Hymen blood dripping from my fingertips.

Dbo: "Are you a virgin?"

DarkDelishis looked back at me dryly.

DarkDelishis: "Yea."

The excruciating pain of blue balls shooting into my gut was subsided with a dread.

DarkDelishis and I both got up to look down at Eddies' mother's King-size bed. The white comforter and sheets were drenched in baby-oil that had an o-so slight tint of hymen blood.

It looked like Jason and Michael Myers used it as a slip-n-slide.

I walked out of the room and right up to Eddie's bedroom door.

BANG! BANG!

I knocked hard on the door to make sure Fatbitch and Eddie heard me.

A few seconds went by before Eddie came to the door.

Eddie: "What's up bro?"

I tried to keep my voice low since Eddies' mom's bedroom door was open.

Dbo: "Is she a virgin?"

Eddie looked clueless so I called Fatbitch to the door.

Fatbitch: "What?"

Dbo: "Is your homegirl a virgin?"

Fatbitch: "No. I saw her go in a room with a dude she fucked."

Dbo: "No she didn't. If she did that dudes dick must have been short as shit because I just fucked her and she's fucking bleeding everywhere."

Eddie: "SHE'S BLEEDING EVERYWHERE?!"

Dbo: "Oh shit."

Eddie put his hands to his forehead and down to his mouth.

Eddie: "Oh...my..god."

Dbo: "My bad, dog, I didn't know she was a fucking virgin! Don't blame me! Blame the bloody bitch in there!"

Eddie, FatBitch, and I returned to eddies' mom's room to find DarkDelishis wide eyed and embarrassed. If dark girls could blush she would have been green.

She pulled some covers over her naked body like Eve did after she fed Adam the apple of sin.

Dbo: "Ooo fuck."

How the fuck are we going to clean this shit up?

FatBitch gathered Eddies' mom's sheets to put them in the wash. Eddie stomped off to the kitchen.

I followed him to the kitchen to sympathize with him like a good brother would.

Poor Eddie. He was having one of those nights.

A fully dressed DarkDelishis quietly joined the rest of the girls in Eddie's room to debrief them about her lost innocence.

Eddie was exploding in the kitchen.

Eddie: "NAW BRO, THAT'S BULLSHIT!!"

When Fatbitch got done with putting Eddies' mom's bedding in the wash, she hurried into the kitchen to try to calm Eddie down before he killed everybody. I continued to chug the handle while lending head shakes of sympathy while Eddie vented.

Around midnight, Rickey tells me and Eddie that he has to start his graveyard shift at his job so we follow him out to his car so Eddie can smoke a black and mild. When Eddie and I get back inside the apartment, I go for broke by hitting on the Fishface of the Hispanic sisters. By the way Fishface was brushing me off, I could tell she was not trying to play second helpings to no penis so I just turn to her fat sister for entertainment.

It's weird how fat girls seem so cool once they warm up to you. I always said that if hot bitches had a fat girl's personality, the world would be a better place.

Too bad my name is not Shallow Hal.

Around 2 a.m., FatBitch comes downstairs to the living room in tears.

Fatbitch: "He did it again!"

The rolls of fat under her neck jiggled between her sobs like the neck on a turkey during its mating call.

Fatbitch: "Eddie is so mean! GOBBLE GOBBLE GOBBLE!"

Okay. She didn't gobble like a turkey, but her cries were getting just as annoying.

Even in my most shitfaced state, I couldn't take it anymore.

I walked upstairs to neutralize the situation. Once I diffused Eddie's patented, "let's argue so I can't fuck you," routine, we all decide to drive to Wal-Mart to get a blow-up bed since Eddie had yellow taped off the crime scene in his mother's room for the night.

Even after Eddie killed 40 percent of the Vodka/sprite/codeine mix, we didn't really realize how sloshed he really was until he floored the gas before even pulling out of the parking lot. Eddie could barely hit the brakes to avoid hitting one of the apartment complex's barriers and ejecting us all through the windshield.

FatBitch: "NO, YOU NEED TO LET DBO DRIVE! WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE TONIGHT BECAUSE YOU ARE WAY TOO DRUNK!"

Eddie: "FUCK THAT! I'M NOT DRUNK!"

Dbo: "Look, dog: I've never voiced my opinion, but I'm kinda fucking scared right now. You're more drunk than me and I'm pretty fucking trashed."

Against Eddie's curses, the group took a vote to impeach Eddie from driving duties and appointed me to drive us the trip around the corner.

Democracy is a bitch, but it'll keep you safe. Somewhat at least.

After we all switched places and headed to Wal-Mart, Eddie still screamed objectional obscenities the whole ride there.

Eddie: "I SHOULD BE DRIVING! THIS IS MY MOM'S CAR! IF ANYONE SHOULD BE CRASHING THIS SHIT IT SHOULD BE ME!"

Why does he keep making these references of crashing his mom's car?

As soon as we get back to the car from Wal-Mart, Eddie overrides our votes and thinks he's sober enough to drive now. Instead of going directly home, He drives us to Taco Cabana for some post drunk munchies.

As he orders his enchilada meal, my stomach started stretching like a female gymnast.

Taco Cabana girl: "So we have an enchilada meal with nachos..."

My stomach starts doing flips.

By the time Eddie drives up to the window to grab the food I wrench open the car door and throw myself into some near-by bushes. I lurched over as pink, green, yellow, and other Taco Cabana themed colors spewed out of my mouth.

Dbo: "HEEEEEEWWWWWLLLL."

Eddie: "Dude you want any chips?"

Dbo: "HEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWLLLLLLL."

When we get back to Eddie's place, Fatbitch propositions him to fuck on his mom's bed. Eddie conjures another argument to weasel his way out of it which causes Fatbitch to walk into the living room with her turkey cries once again.

Since I had taken a V card and got my dick sucked while being pulled over by a cop, I was content with playing wingman/cockblock for the night. I set the blow-up bed to inflate and took Fatbitch into Eddie's room to try to stop her turkey gobbles once again.

In my mid "Eddie really cares about you.." speech to Fatbitch, We returned to the living room to find Eddie and DarkDelishis laying on the fully inflated blow up bed having an intimate conversation. His hands were inching towards her ass.

Fatbitch: "Eddie! Why the fuck are you lying in bed with her?!

Uh oh, I'm not about to be hit by this shit storm.

I didn't even wait for Eddie to respond before I walked out the room.

I went back into the kitchen to poor me the last glass of vodka in the apartment. My hand cradled the glass of vodka like golem did his precious. It was a sexy/curvaceous woman to me that was all mine and I was going to drink her dry. She never gave me any lip. She only made me feel good.

During our oral fixation, Eddie walked into the kitchen with a Son-of-a-bitch mug on his face like he just walked into his best friend fucking his wife. We had an awkward moment before Eddie shrugged it off.

Eddie: "I'm not going to lie...I was trying to fuck that bitch. She looks good."

Dbo: "I know right! Hahahahahahah."

Eddie: "Let me get a sip of that vodka."

I didn't want to give up the Precious but I figured that Eddie had well-earned it these past couple days. Unfortunately, the Precious eventually swayed him to wade through FatBitch's waves of fat in his mom's room.

Since Eddie had already warmed up DarkDelishis, I laid in the blow-up bed with her to see if her pussy was past her virginity pains. I guess she was mad at me for trying to fuck Fishface after she surrendered her purity to me.

FUCK YOU! If you're already mad at that I might as well finish the job with Fishface. She's getting responsive.

I walked into Eddie's room to find Fishface and her fat sister knocked out on Eddie's floor. Fishface didn't even wake up when I shook her hard.

Codeine/Vodka is a hell of a drug.

It was already 4 am, so I took this cue to pass out on Eddie's bed.

The next morning, everyone met in the living room for some general conversation when Eddie gets a call on his cell phone. He looked at his phone like he just saw the electric chair on his execution day.

Eddie: "OH FUCK! It's my manager!"

Eddie grabbed his phone and headed into his room to take the call.

The manager: "Where you at? You're late. You're supposed to be at work at 8:30 this morning. What's going on?"

Eddie: "Well, I'm at home. I....."

Suddenly all four girls started to laugh at a joke that one of them said in the living room.

All four girls: "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH."

Dbo: "Shut up! Eddie's on the phone with his job!"

All four girls gasped and quickly fell quiet. Too little. Too late.

Soon Eddie came back to the living room. He had a stale but uncertain look on his face. As if he was a first class passenger on the Titanic who had heard the ship had hit an ice berg. He knew something bad had happened, but he was not convinced that he was fish food yet.

He even flashed a mild smirk.

Eddie: "Tahaha...Man, my manager heard all those bitches laughing."

Twenty minutes later Eddie answers another call from his manager.

The Manager: "Yeeeeaaaa...we're going to go ahead and let you go. Sounds like you're having a party over there. You don't have to worry about coming in today."

Eddie face was completely blank. Without saying a word, he just hung up the phone and walked down stairs. After taking ten minutes to smoke a black, he walked back upstairs.

Eddie: "You know what? Everyone is fucking leaving. FUCK THIS SHIT!"

No one seemed to want to out vote Eddie on this suggestion for good reason. Even though Eddie's mom wasn't expected to be home til the next day the apartment looked like it had been through a fraternity's Rush week.

Liquor and mixer bottles were scattered on the floor and sinks. Condom wrappers sprinkled the bed sheets that sprawled out on the floor.

DarkDelishis, Fishface, and her fat sister left with Eddie to go home which left me and Fatbitch to start cleaning up. Which meant I had to put up with Fatbitch's bitching about catching Eddie trying to slam DarkDelishis.

Thirty minutes after Eddie got back from dropping the girls off, the door leading to the garage opened.

Eddie's Mom: "Edward?... Edward?"

SLAM

Fatbitch and I were putting the final touches on making up Eddie's bed as we heard his mom's footsteps leading up to her room. As soon as her footsteps stopped her voice boomed through the apartment.

Eddie's mom: "WHO'S BEEN IN MY BED?"

We both acted like we hadn't heard anything and kept cleaning.

We heard Eddie sprint upstairs. His footsteps slowed the closer as they got to his mom's room. When they stopped, we heard him let out a deep sigh before hearing him close his mom's door behind him.

Eddie's mom: "Why the fuck is my comforter in the washer?"

Eddie: "Oh...We spilled something in there."

Eddie's mom: "Spilled something Edward?!"

This might have been an acceptable excuse coming from a normal child, but Eddie's mom met me for the first time when Eddie and I were running the train on a Jamaican chick in the trunk of her old Rodeo.

This was not going to fly.

Although Eddie's mom was one of those "cool" moms who only asked you to keep your sex noises to a quiet roar, we knew we had crossed the line.

Eddie's mom: "Yea, there's also fucking baby oil in my room! WHO'S BEEN FUCKING IN MY BED?!"

Eddie: "I'm going to go ahead and take Dbo home. I'll be right back."

We split before Eddie's mom could blow her top. She needed to cool down.

When Eddie dropped me off at my house he didn't seem too concerned about the mom wrath that awaited him. As I opened the passenger door I looked back at him like a rare spectacle. To this day I have never seen anyone go through that amount of bullshit in forty-eight hours to have his friend reap the benefits and have such a "fuck it" attitude about it.

I felt a sting of guilt hit me.

Dbo: "Damn, dawg, my bad dude. I did not know that girl was a virgin."

Eddie: "Man, I'm not trippin'. My mom is going to get over it in the next thirty minutes."

He could have been wingman of the decade.

After I got in my house, took a shower and passed out for less than twenty minutes I got a call from FatBitch.

Dbo: "Hello?"

FatBitch: "Eddie just got kicked out the house!"

Ok, let's make that wingman of the century.

* * *

Challenge of the Month: The Anne Frank

Slam a girl in a closet, attic, room, or basement while your homeboys distract her friends who are frantically looking for her.

* * *

Race Switcheroo

(December 2011 Denton, Texas)

By: Brother Ron Voyage

Being a light skinned black guy is one of those catch 22's.

Sure it's cool getting the "fair-skinned" privileges like getting more call backs for jobs.

Sure less cops fuck with me but there's a whole other batch of social issues that yellow bones like me have to deal with.

Such as, everyone loves to give me shit just because I can catch a cab and still have a big dick.

Honestly, I get pissed off when people say, "you're so lucky, you can blend in with anybody". If blending in means getting weekly swirleys by the black kids in public school or a swift punch to the nuts by the white kids in private school, I'd rather stick out like a sore thumb.

One of my favorite perks of being a fair skinned black though is having more options with women who secretly fantasized about fucking a black, but don't want be called a "snicker licker". Since I don't appear black from a distance (or through drunken slor goggles) these women feel more at ease if their racist friends or family see her leaving the bar or party with me.

Think of me like their bridge to the "Dark" side. Here's a story about my most memorable race encounter between the sheets.

I was pulling all-nighter on some end-of-the-semester homework when I get a call from Brother Melo.

Melo: "Yo I need you to do Malcolm a favor."

Malcolm was a chill dude who I had in a class or two with that would chill with us from time to time.

Ron: "What's up?"

Melo: "He called me and said he was trying to fuck this girl. The thing is she won't fuck him unless he can get a guy to fuck her friend. I can't do it because I have a girlfriend now."

Now usually when I hear a girl has to get her girlfriend to get her some dick I assume either she is incarcerated or has a face that only Freddy Krueger could fuck.

Ron: "Hahaha. Well is her friend cute?"

Melo: "I don't know. You have to talk to him."

Ron: "Aight, tell him to hit me up."

About ten minutes after I get off the phone with Melo, I get a text from Malcolm.

Malcolm: _Bro I got this ugly chick she is down to smash but she wants her friend to get it in too. Can you take one for the team? Her friend doesn't really like black guys, but I think I can convince her. They want to chill this sat._

Wow.

A whore who thinks she has standards just because she doesn't prefer dark meat. There's whore logic for you.

Now most men would either say no or at least ask to see a picture before taking on this mission. But most men are not a sex-crazed playboy who wants to win wingman of the year for the third year in a row.

Ron: _Lol aight_

Malcolm sends me a pic of the girl from the waist up anyway.

Malcolm: _That's her._

I was shocked. A white girl with light hazel eyes, breast-length brown hair, high-cheek bones, and a set of pearly whites smiled at me from the pic. She was cute. No dime piece but a solid 7.5 as far as I could tell.

Ron: _That's the girl I'm suppose to smash?_

Malcolm: _Yea. She not really feeling black guys but maybe we can convince her she is horny and wants to get it. Send me your best pic so I can forward it to her and see if she's down. Or fuck that just go out with me this weekend I'm sure you can get her. Beggers can't be choosers lol._

Once my I-phone decides to work I finally send him a pic of me at poolside in Miami to send her.

Malcolm: _Just sent it this chick that wants to fuck me is ugly not even going to lie. Her friend that I'm trying to put you on is pretty though. She basically said she won't let me hit unless her friend get it in too. Never did so much for an ugly chick lol._

Ron: _like real talk lol!_

After a little third party texting with the UG Malcolm finally convinces UG's friend to get on the Ron John silver hook.

Malcolm: _Yea she said she's down to fuck so were good._

Ron: _Coo, you said Saturday?_

Malcolm: _Yea really I want to smash the girl you're on but this ugly bitch chose me._

Ron: _lol word, is your girl that bad?_

Malcolm: _Ugh lol yea you will see._

Ron: _lol well damn_

He texts me a number.

Malcolm: _That's the girls number hit her up she wants to talk to you._

Fucking titties!

No matter how much a girl might be a whore you always have to put some moves on her. I thought this was going to be easy like ordering pizza...only it is pussy...and it is free.

Ron: _"Lol damn this will be awkward."_

Malcolm: _"Yea just start off slow and pick it up tell her you saw a pic of her and she is beautiful. Tell her a bunch of bullshit. She's down for it just got to work your charm"._

Ron: _"Lol not too good with kissing ass but we'll see what happens. What's her name?"_

Malcolm: " _Lol yea take one for the team lol."_

He gave me a name which turned out to be the wrong one but I'm just going to call her Snow White anyway. Once I found a stopping point on the HW, I called the number.

Snow White: "Hello?"

Ron: "Hey, is this ____?"

Snow White: "Yea, is this Malcolm's friend?"

Ron: "Yea, this is Ron. I heard you wanted to speak with me."

Snow White: "Yea, did he tell you what the deal was?"

Whoa, thirsty much? This girl was straight to the point like a Westbrook pull-up shot.

I suddenly got weird mixed feeling of vulnerability, disgust, and excitement all at once. This must be what the women who I'd hit on in High School felt like.

Ron: "Aaaaah..Yea."

Snow White: "So are you down?"

This bitch stole my line!

Ron: "Hahaha..Yea, I'm down."

Snow White: "Ok, well do you have any questions?"

Why was I feeling more like I was setting up a drug deal or a mob hit instead of some ass? This was too easy.

Ron: "Ummm. Are you clean?"

Snow White: "Yes! Are you? I'm so glad you asked me that!"

Ron: "Yea"

We both breathe a sigh of relief.

Snow White: "So what do you like in the bedroom?"

Ron: "I like to be in control. There's nothing worse when the girl is trying dominate me when I'm making her squeal like a piglet."

Snow White: "Hahahah. I agree. You can rough me up all you want."

Ron: "Good."

Cool. Our "small-talk" about our "do's" and "don'ts" sounded like two porn stars about to fuck on a cactus for a desert scene.

Before I got off the phone with her I told her to send me a full body pic. Snow White soon obliged me with a side shot of her in a black tank top holding a perky pair of B's and an ass that look like it could handle the D.

Ron: _Hey, that was fast._

Tori: _Well I'm gonna be texting slow for right now but just wanted to do the initial text lol.... Plus this pic is me but with a little shorter hair._

Ron: _Ok, I can work with that ;-)_

Tori: _but can you handle it? :-)_

Ron: _Most definitely ;-)_

Tori: _your turn_

I sent her a pic with me in a grey tank top and a fedora on a motor boat. The way the sun glistened of the water in the background made it look like it could have been in a Calvin Klein campaign.

Ron: _Think you can handle this?_

Tori: _I can hold my own. :-P_

I texted Malcolm that Snow White was hot and ready like a Little Caesar's special.

Initially, the plan was to go to Fry St. with the girls, put on an act of courtship, and then take them back to Malcolm's to lay the pipe. Apparently UG was so ugly she couldn't be seen with Malcolm in front of Denton hipster bar rats so he set it up so they would meet us at his apartment after midnight when he got home from work. I couldn't believe someone could be that ugly until the night came.

I came over early to pregame with a few beers that Malcolm had bought in case I was going to be stampeded by a pack of rhinos. Malcolm did not disappoint.

UG came in through the door with a gut and her two horns sticking out her shirt that happen to be her tits. She must have gotten the hint that there was too much light in the room for her to be present. She didn't even say "Hi" before grabbing Malcolm and dragging him in his room before closing the door.

Thank the heavens that Snow White not only looked like her pics but she was even cuter in person.

After an awkward embrace she took a seat on the couch with me and pretended to watch some game highlights on the TV when I decided to make my move.

Ron: "So you want to watch this in the other room?"

Snow White: "Sure."

We went into Malcolm's roommate's room and sat on the bed. I turned on the TV.

Ron: "Am I what you expected?"

Snow White: "Hahaha. More or Less."

Fair enough.

Ron: "So would you like to kiss me?"

Snow White shook her head.

Snow White: "Yes."

With that our lips got acquainted as we started to strip each other's clothes off. Once I got the condom on she started to ride me and I must say she had some of that wet wet. Her pussy was loose but was still some of the wettest I've had.

Everything was good until I tried to actually rough her up a bit with a little biting to which she stopped me and said: "No, I got daycare in the morning. No marks."

There's nothing like a girl saying you can't do something in the bedroom that kills the mood for me.

O yea? If I can't make my mark on your body I will make my mark on your memory!

Once Snow White and I got our nut I rolled over to face her.

Ron: "So how was your first time with a black guy?" In the deepest Barry White voice I could muster.

A shade of terror came over Snow White. Her eyes widen and her lips narrowed. She looked like I had just told her I was infected with H.I.V.

Snow White: "You're... You're _not_ black."

I looked at her and busted out laughing in her face. Light skins 1 – Racist pussy – 0.

Ron: "HAHAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!"

Snow White: "You're BULL SHITTING ME, you're not black!"

Ron: "HAHAHAHAHA, I'm kidding... but yea I am."

Snow White looked at me with almost straight contempt. Then her face loosened from contempt to just confusion. And then just when I thought she would dial 911 and call "RAPE!" she just shrugged her shoulders.

Snow White: "Well, you're not the first black guy I fucked."

My mouth dropped open.

Ron: "WHAT?!"

Snow White: "You're not the first black guy I've fucked."

Ron: "But you said you weren't into black guys."

Snow White: "I'm not into black guys, because my family would kill me if they found out I was fucking them."

Suddenly I remembered Snow White telling me she was born and raised in Denton, a place that was actually a historically Confederate city before it became hipster haven. If you walk through Denton square you'll see memorial statues dedicated to the confederate soldier who died to keep my ancestors as their victims of servitude.

Ron: "What is your family in the Klan or something?" I said half-jokingly.

Snow White: "My dad's side of the family is. They have a headquarters in Grand Prairie."

Son of a bitch.

The girl had turned it all back on me. I was never naïve like those equally ignorant racism-is-dead blokes who thought everybody loved everybody since Obama won the election. But I never would have thought that the Klan was just chillin' 30 minutes away from where I rested my head!

Since I don't particularly like my head hanging from trees you can imagine why this was the first and last time I fucked this girl.

* * *

Sexting: Sit-com Reassurance

sugar Mama: _"Nobody marries the girl who gives blumpkins."_

Ron: _"No, but they'll always be remembered when the man is fucking his wife."_

sugar Mama: _"Aww thanks Ron."_

Ron: _"Anytime my cum-bucket_  _."_

sugar Mama: _"Ur one of my favorite cock-suppliers! =)"_

Ron: _"And you make one hell of a cock-shiner."_

sugar Mama: _"Aww u meant that."_

Ron: _"You bet_  _(shoulder nudge)."_

* * *

3's a crowd

Truth or Dare

(June 2011 Denton, Tx)

By: Brother Ron Voyage

If pussy is a virgin's Holy Grail, the threesome is a man's Nirvana.

The moment a man puts his stethoscope in a woman to observe her uterus, he ALWAYS dreams on what it would be like to make an appointment with at least two pink canals at the same time.

Few men have achieved slaying two pussies at the same time and even fewer have not paid for it.

Ironically, I had dated many openly bi-sexual women before my first threesome and just like most fools I always thought that once I locked an openly bi-girl down, my Nirvana was only around the corner.

In fact, that fucking threesome was the reason why I put up with one-too many crazy/unstable female specimens in my early years.

Oh, and guess how many threesomes I had to show for it?

Zero.

NADA.

FUCKING ZILCH.

I had no idea that most women are at least bi-curious enough to play with another Pandora box that was not their own anyway. They don't need convincing. You only need to make them comfortable and playful enough for the magic to happen.

Don't believe me?

Ask a girl if she has ever kissed a girl before. Unless, you take your sample of women from a fucking retirement home or a nunnery, I guarantee seven out of ten will say, "Yes". If less than six don't respond with a yes, I bet my left nut that one of those girls is lying. The funniest part about a woman's reaction to this question is how they try to justify their moment of bi-sexuality:

Most common: "Oh, I was drunk"

Second most common: "Me and my best friend just made out because guys were around".

Or the classic: "I just wanted to see if I liked it."

Lesbianist (Pronounced) Let's-be-honest).

I don't care how many tequila shots you can get in me. You won't find me tonguing down my best friend even if Vida Guerra was wrestling in a tub of caramel with Sofia Vergara nearby while saying in her thick Colombian accent, "I will swallow your nut".

And if you ever see a guy who would do that, well let's just say that Anything But Clothes party has just become A Bi-man out the Closet party.

As ridiculous as this whore logic sounds, it all has a pattern: _If you change the game, they will forget all their shame_. Since women are social creatures, they are constantly looking for socially accepted excuses to give them an excuse to do what their clam pouches tell them.

Women who use the "drunk" excuse are latching on to the socially accepted act of drinking as the cause of eating out her ballet girlfriend while you ram her from the back.

This is because "I was drunk" sounds a lot better to her conscience than, "I'm a whore, what do you want from me?"

Women who use "guys were around," are using the socially accepted excuse to impress someone from the opposite sex in order swap spit with their BFF. Everybody does stupid stuff when they like somebody, right?

Being drunk and wanting to be liked is accepted. Being a slor bag is no bueno.

The only thing you have to do is make a social construct like a game or experiment that makes the initial steps to a threesome not only acceptable but REQUIRED in order to be socially accepted. You must make it seem like if the girl is not down to suck a titty than she is in violation of the social circle and will be dubbed "awkward".

Most women want threesomes, but you can't just demand it upfront. Give them a script to play it out in a role.

This is probably why the first threesomes a man stumbles upon are usually with two women he thought it would never go down with. That's because you really can't care if it goes down or not. It takes a playful attitude of not giving a fuck about the end result and just enjoying the moments that lead to the three-way as being more important.

Now usually this attitude comes from the thought that the two girls are probably out of your league.

That was not the case for me.

My threesome attitude came from no thought at all. I didn't even know it was physically possible for me to get a stiffy from the thought of entering these two grenades but alcohol is a helluva drug.

I actually knew both of them from our high school years, since the only reason I would do them was to ask the fat one about her fine ass sister. The funny thing is the fat one literally looked JUST like her sister but the Klump version.

FatFine had bronze skin, a perfect smile, full lips, and a vally-girl voice that sounded like it could be on a Barbie commercial. She resembled a dime-piece black-anchor for a local news station who accidentally chewed the same bubble gum that blew up Violet Beauregarde in _Charlie's Chocolate Factory._

Her best friend with her was a thick and curvy black girl with a Plain Jane face, so we'll call her Jane. On a rather dry Saturday night on Fry Street they both approached me and Brother Melo when we were at a bar called The Garage. I was getting shot down left and right by the hipster hors there and was just about to call it a night when I saw them walk over.

Fatfine: "Hey you! How are you?"

Ron: "Always good! I haven't seen you in a minute. How you been?"

She wrapped her arms around me for a hug. It was like hugging one of those M&Ms with legs.

Fatfine: "Really good! Just trying to have some fun before I leave for school. I'm going to grad school out of state in ten days."

Ron: "Nice!"

I turned my attention to her friend whom I remembered seeing in High School. She was one of the girl's my best friend Frank would harass between periods.

Fatfine: "Do you remember my best friend Jane? She went to high school with us."

Ron: "Oh yeeaa, you used to hang with my boy Frank in the halls right?"

Jane rolled her eyes and grinned.

Jane: "Yea, I know Frank."

She quickly looked away from me like I was giving off ultra-violet rays. I guess her eyes were too sensitive to my aura.

Fatfine: "Jane has just started going to TWU this semester."

Ron: "That's what's up."

Honestly, I was not really trying to put my mack down on these two girls, but they were cool enough for me to give them my number when they asked for it. I figured it would be a good way to finally finish the job with FatFine's sister or at least get some free alcohol if we all hung out again.

Fatfine texted me for a week before finally making her move. I got to handle it to her. She was pretty smooth.

Fatfine: _Hey, sup?_

Ron: _What's really good?_

FatFine: _Nm Jane and my friend adriana r abt to chill @ my house maybe have a few beers or get something from eskimo hut and wanted to see if u and ur homeboy wanted to chill. Maybe play a round of kings cup or something._

Ron: _That sounds coo, I have to go to a friends 21st at the forum too, you guys should come_

Fatfine: _Lol cool. Text me the dets_

Ron: _Aight I'll let you know as soon as I find them._

Fatfine: _Cool_.

After filing Fatfine and her friends as the plan B for the night, I tried to find some plan A's to take to the party so I could have an excuse to flake, but all my other girl's weren't available.

I called Fatfine and told her to meet me and Melo at my apartment so we could head to the party. She showed up to my apartment an hour later with Jane and a short dark-skinned girl named Adriana. Adriana had a pair of H.A.M titties that burst from her bust but she was busted in the face.

Looks like someone is taking the L tonight.

I'm sure some of you guys are thinking: "Ron! Why are you rolling up to a party with a pair of grenades?"

It's pretty simple: Ugly or not, girls attract other girls.

I used to think that rolling to a party with any girl would lower my chances to hook up with a girl I had met at a party. Come to find out, when a girl sees women in your entourage chances are she's already asking herself why those girls chose to be around you in the first place. This usually at least plants a seed of curiosity in her head to find out what these girls think is so cool about you.

Even if the girl who looks like Igor thinks you're cool, a girl watching you entertaining her will at least be a tad more receptive to you when you approach her.

A guy who rolls to a party by himself looks like a loser. A guy who rolls with a bunch of dudes looks like a pack of thirsty wolves.

But a guy who rolls with a bunch of bitches in heat looks like a player **and players ALWAYS get chose.**

Unfortunately, the party we went to had turned more into a block party since there was more people outside in the parking lot than in the actual party.

That can only mean one thing!

We walked inside to not only find a DJ with a handful of hideous girls twerking and absolutely NO ALCOHOL. I leaned on the empty bar and tried to think of a way to save the night.

I am NOT going to Fry Street for the third night in a row!

Melo walked over to lean on the bar next to me. He knew when I was running out of ideas and party leads.

Melo: "So what you are trying to do?"

FatFine walked up to us

FatFine: "You guys want to go back to my place? I still have those Fuzzy Navel's from Eskimo Hut."

Fuck it.

Ron: "Alright...Let's go."

We all hopped into Fatfine's car and drove to her apartment which was right next to my apartment complex. Once we got into Fatfine's apartment, she poured up some fuzzy navels and pulled out a deck of cards. She spread them across her coffee table and we all gathered around to start the ring of fire.

Nothing was really special about the game until someone pulled a five from the deck to start my favorite game of "Never have I ever". There is not a game that I love, but I sucked at more than "Never have I ever". This is probably due to the fact that unless there is a porn star playing the game with the group I ALWAYS fucking lose.

This is perfectly fine with me though.

As long as the girls that play it expose their level of freakiness with every unfilled Never-have-I-ever, EVERYONE wins. I always thought they should change the name of the game from Never-have-I-ever to The-freaky-shit-I-want-to-do-but-haven't yet.

When it came time for my Never-have-I-ever I calmly spit out my most desirable fantasy that I had yet to achieve.

Ron: "Never-have-I-ever had a threesome."

I casually looked around the table to see if anyone lowered their finger. Instead of seeing a finger dropped, I saw the guiltiest grin on Fatfine's face.

Her eyes caught Jane's eyes as if the two brains behind them had a direct phone line linked together. Fatfine burst into her high-pitched valley-girl laugh and pointed her last finger left at Jane.

Fatfine: "HAHAHAHAH. Remember, you promised me one before I leave!"

Jane shyly grinned back at her and raised her eyebrows slightly.

Jane: "I did."

I don't know if it was those potent Fuzzy Navels or Jane's slutty smile but something sent a spike to my manhood.

What the fuck am I thinking!? These girls are cool as fuck, but I can't go back to fucking sea manatees again. THAT'S HIGH SCHOOL!

I quickly put the thought of a threesome with Oprah and Gayle out of my mind to get back to the game. Around 2 am all the cards were flipped over and I was getting tired. Fatfine must have guessed that I was about to tell her to take me home because she quickly chimed in as I was opening my mouth.

Fatfine: "Let's play truth or dare!"

The Fuck?

I hadn't played truth or dare since middle school, but I was too drunk to give a fuck.

Ron: "I'll go first!"

The three girls looked at me giddily while Melo seemed to do what he did best: be mellow.

Ron: "Melo. Truth or dare?"

Melo shrugged his shoulders.

Melo: "Dare."

I pointed at Adriana and her two twins sitting on her chest.

Ron: "I dare you to suck on her titties!"

Everyone laughed as Melo quietly struggled to lower his standards for a second in order to participate. Not wanting to be the stick in the mud, he finally conjured up his nerve.

Melo: "Alright."

He lifted up from the couch and sauntered over Adriana. Adriana closed her eyes and quenched her face as Melo got down on both knees. His right hand pulled open her shirt as his left hand took out her massive left chesticle. His glasses moved up and down as his mouth gave her concave black hole a couple of sucks. After he repeated the deed to Adriana's right tit he took his seat chuckling to himself.

Melo: "Aight. My turn!"

He looked around for a bit before turning to me and pointing to Fatfine.

Melo: "I dare you to give her a lap dance."

Oooo you just started a war buddy!

Like an excited little school girl, Fatfine rushed to her room to bring out a chair. She flipped on some smooth R&B before plopping down. It's a good thing I learned how to give a proper lap dance during my freshmen years in college otherwise I would have look real stupid when I started to grind on top of Fatfine. Grinding on those squishy rolls felt like doing ab workouts on a stability ball filled with blubber.

God have mercy on that chair. You were a brave soul.

After I had reenacted a bachelorette party in a buffet I decided to get a little more creative. I pointed at Fatfine.

Ron: "I dare you to show everyone what you like to do with your favorite sex-toy!"

Melo: "Hahahhaaha."

Fatfine cheesed hard and wobble hard in her seat. She jumped up and sprinted to her room. A few seconds later she returned with one of those green vibrating dildos with the balls inside them. She laid down flat on the floor and started to thrust the dildo in her mouth rapidly. The way her perfect lips glided across the green ridges made me rock hard. It was time to lay my hand.

After a couple of more hilarious dares like having Jane licking Melo's left nut, I decided I was getting tired and my nuts needed to be drained from all this foreplay. When it was finally my turn once again, I looked at Jane and licked my lips LL Cool J style.

Ron: "I dare you to give Fatfine the threesome that she always wanted."

Jane tilted her head side to side before looking at Fatfine. She smiled and crossed her legs like she trying to keep her wetness from becoming Niagara Falls. Fatfine flashed a newly bleached smile while leaning forward in her seat like she was waiting to get the last number to see if she had won the lottery.

Jane: "Um...Sure."

DING DING DING! WE HAAAVVE A WINNER!

Fatfine gasped and sprang from her seat.

Fatfine: "ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!"

Jane stared at Fatfine for a moment and blinked hard before confirming her answer. There was no turning back now.

Jane: "Yea."

Fatfine rushed over to Jane, took her arm, and half dragged her into her room. Adriana knew the calling of a "girl moment" and rushed in after them before closing the door. I looked over at Melo to flash a drunken smile.

Ron: "Yo you got a condom?"

Melo didn't know whether to be amazed that I had accomplished my first threesome with a game of truth or dare or whether to call the authorities for the violations I was about to put on these Rhinos. He would deny it to his grave, but I still think that the smirk on his face was shared pride in my breakthrough.

He handed me a golden wrapper right before Adriana emerged from Fatfines room with a naughty smile across her face. She pointed her finger at me.

Adriana: "You stay right there!"

Her finger then moved to Melo.

Adriana: "You need a ride home? I'm leaving."

Melo's smirk got wider.

Melo: "Yea. I'm ready."

In typical Melo fashion, he slowly raised himself off the couch to put his shoes on. Once he made it outside the apartment door Adriana closed the door behind them leaving me alone in the living room.

My body started to fill with anxiety. This was not the anxiety of sexual anticipation. It was more of the anxiety you get sitting in the front office waiting to be called by the principal after getting in a fight. I heard the sound of shower water running coming from Fatfine's door.

At least they're taking care of their prep work.

After what seemed like a year and a day, Fatfine and Jane both emerged from my threesome virginity's final resting place. They had nothing on but some big black T's that came down to their knees. They walked over and each took my hand. Without saying a word, I followed into Fatfine's room.

Jane: "Lay on the bed."

As soon as I fell back on the cloud-soft bed Jane pounced on my face to explore my jaws with her tongue. Her face and body eclipsed Fatfine who was watching from the edge of the bed. I closed my eyes as I felt Fatfine's hands unfasten my belt and pull my jeans off.

Soon my hairy inmate welcomed the breeze rafting from Fatfine's air-vents as she rewarded his escape with a kiss from her luscious wet pillows she called lips. We continued this little make out session until my brave soldier was hard enough to put in some work.

After putting on a magnum and making sure to turn off the only light in the room, Fatfine laid on the bed as Jane parted Fatfine's two massive calves that were waiting to be milked. Jane put both of her knees on the bed and started to eat out Fatfine as my toy soldier and I entered her doggystyle. I wasted no time in delivering some hard-pounding back shots.

Smack smack Smack

Jane: "Hiaaaaatttt."

The faster I pick up the pace the harder Jane moaned.

WAAAAAAPP!

I smack Jane's fat ass with my right hand.

Ron: "You like that shit?!"

The smacking sound must have been Fatfine's libido because she soon joined in the dirty talk with her arousing Barbie wine.

Fatfine: "Whhhhhuuuum."

The louder they moaned the harder I thrusted my pelvis and open hand onto Jane's ass. If someone was secretly taping this they could have named it "how to tame a hippo and a hyena with your cock".

Even though my first threesome with two girls looked like they could have been the stunt devils to the Lion King characters, I still wanted it to be a good one for everyone in it. So when I was getting close to my nut, I quickly pulled out of Jane to keep from gluing her ass cheeks together with my protein paste too quickly.

I pushed Jane aside and turned her around so she could give my toy soldier a General Jibbs pep talk before he impaled Moby Dick. I felt around to lift Fatfine's shirt to her neck before diving in that sea of puddy head first. Her blowhole was a magical wishing well, wet with a precious pearl that my man hook loved rubbing against.

Every thrust was harder than the next causing her tits and gut splashed waves of blubber into my face. Every second I was sinking deeper into her sweaty crevices.

I was fucking quicksand.

My climax reared its awesome face once again and I pulled out to blast pools of white tadpoles all over her manhole sized belly button.

Ron: "AAAAWWWWWWW."

Fatfine smiled at me. I felt her grabbing for a towel to wipe my cum off her. She made sure to put her shirt on before turning the light on. When my eyes adjusted to the light I saw her and Jane laying side by side on the bed. Sweat and satisfied smiles etched their faces.

The sex adrenaline started to wear off and I suddenly remembered I was barely able to breathe while swimming in Fatfine's crevices. I started to gasp for breathe.

Ron: "Fuck, I'm tired."

Fatfine giggled her Barbie giggle.

Fatfine: "Well... You should be the way you just put it down."

As I sat on the bed to start putting my boxers back on a strong streak shock swelled in my chest.

I can't believe I just did that.

During all my years of fantasizing and dreaming about my first threesome, I would have never imagined my first threesome would be with these two girls. Ironically, I wasn't as shocked about how my threesome happened. I was more shocked at myself for feeling a HUGE sense of pride by maintaining a boner and not being crushed by Fatfine's rolls.

Who gives a fuck if the two girls were a 200 pounder and a brown bagger? I WAS THE FIRST MAN IN MY FAMILY WHO HAD ACHIEVED HIS FIRST SEXUAL NIRVANA! AND DID SO PLAYING A FUCKING GAME OF TRUTH AND DARE!

This must be what Obama had felt when he won the presidency.

If I would have died from drowning in that quicksand of fat, I would have died feeling accomplished and happy that I had reached a milestone that no man with my blood had touched.

* * *

QUOTA PHI QUOTA ON BI-ASSNESS:

If a girl is so into you that she tries to sell her bi-sexuality to coax you into a relationship. This is not you hitting the threesomes+relationship=lottery. **THIS IS A RED FLAG!**

More than 60 % of women are bi anyway and don't talk about it because they are about it. Women who brag about their bi-sexuality are usually slors who know they have close to nothing to offer the opposite sex but a good time so they wear their bi-sexuality on their sleeve to seem real cool.

Granted, By all means tear her ass and whatever girlfriend she's attracted to ass up but just know her eligibility for wifey material is now revoked. **CARRY ON BRETHREN!**

This message is proudly sponsored by the Quota Phi Quota.

* * *

LOKO UP!

(July 2011 Dallas TX)

As told from: Brother Dbo

Written by: Brother Ron Voyage

A gorgeous bi-sexual stripper who used to date Brother Eddie (and unsurprisingly bedded us and probably every guy in the five mile radius that has ever used Murrays Pomade) picked me and Eddie up from my house to grab some Four Lokos from a gas station. We'll call the stripper Mrs. S for the sake of this story.

This Saturday was so boring that Eddie thought it was a fun idea to get drunk at some video-game nerd's house that he used to work with at Tom Thumb. Since we couldn't come up with any other better ideas and a fine mixed girl I met on Facebook with a faux hawk cut was also in the car, we headed over in Mrs. S's Jeep.

When we get to the nerd's house, he was already powning "noobs" on some online Halo.

After watching Mclovin sit on the couch and play halo we got so bored after .05 seconds we all go to his apartment's hot tub. Mrs. S and Rihanna already made it imperative that they wanted to have a good time since they were walking to the pool making out and holding hands #lesbihonest so we followed suit.

Eddie and I took the liberty of using Mclovin's basketball shorts as swim trunks and hop in the hot tub.

We both zone in on Rhianna and Mrs. S conversation of complimenting each other while they were in the pool.

Mrs. S: "Damn, you got a fat ass!"

Rhianna: "hahahah."

After they got done fondling each other, Mrs. S and Rhi-Rhi both realized there was no penis in their vicinity and decided to join me and Eddie in the hot tub since I didn't feel like getting in some cold ass water. As the 4 Loko kicked in, Eddie and I get hype for a split second, but remembered coolness is our meal ticket. Mrs. S splashed over to sit on my lap and gave me some Four Loko laced kisses. I hoisted her up on my shoulders and fake like I'm giving her oral which she goes bananas over. She looked at Rihanna.

Mrs. S: "Let's go inside."

Geeked up, me and Eddie go inside and see the two girls enter Mclovin's master bedroom. They lock the door and take a shower together while we stand there drunk and drying. I knocked on the door.

Mrs. S: "Oh my god, your sooooo wet right now!"

I rattled the handle.

Rhianna: "Hahahahahaha."

What the fuck! Come on now, I hear ya'll moanin! I know they doing this shit just to piss us off.

After about a minute of fuming at the door of slors, I go into the living room and tell Mclovin about the debauchery going on in his room.

Mclovin: "I don't care."

Dbo: "TWO BAD BITCHES ARE IN YOUR ROOM AND YOU DON'T GIVE A FUCK?!"

The douchebag just turns his head back to his Halo life ignoring the question.

Pussy.

Suddenly I hear the bedroom door slam shut.

What the fuck?

I walked over and opened the door. Inside I see Mrs. S eating Rihanna out with her legs spread eagle on her bed. I immediately get into my "Justin slayer" mode, drop my shorts, and immediately enter Mrs. S. While I'm partaking in this threesome, Eddie sees my ass through the open door and joins the fun. The lucky bastard starts tonguing down Rihanna and starts to play 69 with her on the floor.

A sting of jealousy comes over me since I been wanting to fuck Rihanna all summer but I play along. I pull out, but Mrs. S starts kissing on my third leg and puts me on the floor for some 69. Suddenly turning lackluster the oral session. Eddie's vicious tongue game has Rihanna screaming to the heavens.

Rihanna: "AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH."

Refusing to be shown up, I picked up Mrs. S Mandingo style, slam her on the bed, and start fucking the shit outta her. Eddie follows suit (great minds think alike) and starts fucking Rihanna. I immediately turn green with envy.

I have been talkin' to Rihanna since fall semester at UTEP and two Four Lokos later we are having an orgy! Fuckin' women. LOL.

We both have their legs on our shoulders and we are just putting down pipe. Suddenly _Alicia Key's Unthinkable_ remix featuring _Drake_ comes on the radio.

Drake :"Baby being part of this life/ I feel like I'm bound to end up with somebody that's been with everybody/ I need you to rescue me from my destiny I'm trying to live right and give you whatever's left of me".

The mourning sunlight from outside shines in the room while we are putting in work on two gorgeous females while a fucking love song is playing on the radio.

WELCOME TO MY LIFE.

CRACK!

Suddenly the side of Mclovin's bed that I'm fucking Mrs. S on caves in, but it doesn't throw off our sweat and moans we are putting in. Me and Eddie looked at each other for a quick laugh before I continue to fuck Mrs. S deeper into the caved in side of the bed. The room reeked of sweat, ass, pussy, dick, and blueberry Four Loko.

Then finally something amazing happens.

Mrs. S: "Hold on, I got to take a break."

I lifted off her. She got up and walked out to the living room butt naked to tease McLovin leaving me, Eddie, and Rihanna in the bedroom.

Suddenly out of nowhere, my dick gets harder than a steel pole and I enter Rihanna. I begin to fuck her like this is the last woman I can fuck por vida!

Her pussy was so tight it felt like I getting the grind-the-pepper blow-job. As wet as it was, it wasn't the type of pussy that made you come in five minutes, but it still felt good enough for you to fuck her till you die. Some of the best I have ever had at that point... (disc skips).

Mrs. S walks in looking like her heart has just been shattered. Eddie is just standing there naked between Mrs. S, Rihanna, and I with a drunken "Oh shit" expression on his face.

Mrs. S: "WHAT THE FUCK?! _MOTHERFUCKER!!!_ "

Mrs. S lounges toward me and Rihanna while Eddie catches Mrs. S in mid-air.

Eddie: "No!"

He drags her out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

WINGMAN OF THE FUCKING CENTURY!

Rihanna's pussy was too good for me to stop fucking the dog shit out of it, so I continued to hump. I'm blowing out Rihanna's back so hard that her body folds like cheap arm-chair before crumpling on her stomach withering in ecstasy.

Her sugar walls was easing my nut to the tip.

I was close.

Just a little more time.

Suddenly Rihanna collapsed on the mattress.

Rihanna: "I can't anymore."

FUCKING BULLSHIT.

Steaming with jealousy, Mrs. S suddenly sprints into the room towards me before throwing a fist at my face.

Apparently, after Eddie gave her a lecture on orgy etiquette he decides to keep getting drunk while Mrs. S checks up on my stroke game.

I dodged her fist, lifted her up, slam her on the bed, and start fucking her again.

I'M GOING TO GET THIS FUCKING NUT!

Lo and behold Mrs. S taps out after fifteen minutes, too.

Fuck.

We all decide to take a brief intermission and return to the living room with dicks and titties still swinging.

Even with two GORGEOUS naked girls in the living room, MCLOVIN STILL CONTINUES TO PLAY HALO 2 ONLINE AND BRAGS TO HIS ONLINE 40-YEAR-OLD VIRGIN BUDDIES ABOUT HOW TWO BLACK DUDES ARE FUCKING TWO GORGEOUS GIRLS IN HIS BEDROOM.

McLovin: "I got these two girls that my friends are fucking in my room. They're having an ogry." His tone sounded like he was the realest nigga alive.

Voice from online player: "What the fuck? Why aren't you in there? You're a pussy!"

Mclovin screams back at the voice: "Fuck you! I'm not doing that shit!"

Mrs. S even gives McLovin some pity kisses and grinds on his lap, but he still won't fuckin' join us on this amazing quest.

I attempted to fuck Rihanna again for two minutes before she taps out citing she is in too much pain, so I start to strut around naked again claiming victory as Mrs. S and Eddie make out. Since it's 4 am, we go to Whataburger to eat and for some reason Mrs. S thinks it's a good time to have an argument over orgy rules in front of the Whataburger cops.

Mrs. S: "He's a fucking Ho! I just fucking hate him!" As we ate our food.

Eddie: "Mrs. S that doesn't make any fucking sense. Nobody is dating anybody here."

Mrs. S: "Whatever Eddie, he's still a bitch!"

I guess I forgot about some unspoken rule by fucking Rihanna even though Mrs. S made out with Eddie.

Eddie gets so frustrated with Mrs. S's whore logic that he asks to go back to Mclovin's. We drop Eddie off and in forty-five seconds later he calls to beg us to come back to get him with a sense of urgency. He sprints in the car and we ask what changed his mind.

His face was filled with horror as he stated: "Yea, so I fucking walk in the house and get my ID. I ask where is Mclovin? I go to look around and he is in the bed we were all fucking in, watching orgy porn. Jacking off."

-_- WOW.

After they drop me off at my house, I go to my room and try to put together what happened last night. Fifteen minutes later I get a call from my co-worker that tells me she is outside to take me to work. Still exhausted from the high-octane sex, I crawled my way into her passenger seat.

Co-worker: "So what did you do last night?"

I could only look at her and start to laugh right in her face like a jackass.

What an awesome night. I fucking love my life.

* * *

QUOTA PHI QUOTA VIOLATION:

As men, we all pay for pussy indirectly.

Whether it is the alcohol that drops the panties or just the five dollars in gas to pick up the jump-off who lives across town, in our quest for the pink sink we have **ALL** cum out of pocket in some fashion.

But, we must never be allowed to lower ourselves to trick status and exchange any type of currency for direct sexual contact!! Even if the fifty dollar BJ or smash was a **STEAL** it will not count towards your Quota for the month and **YOU WILL BE ON GROUNDS TO BE TERMINATED FROM THE QUOTA PHI QUOTA!**

We believe that clitoris is not some mystical product in the merchant window that you must hand over your saved lunch money to touch. **CARRY ON**!!!

This message is proudly sponsored by the Quota Phi Quota.

* * *

It's my birthday, and I'll cry if I want too

(August 2011 Denton, TX)

As Told from: Brother RJ

Written by: Brother Ron Voyage

On a thirsty Thursday night, Brother Ron, me, Brother LJ, and his roommate Matt were getting tired of getting our wee wees wet in my apartment complex's pool, so we decided to hit a house party in Denton. The girl that had invited us to the party was fucking LJ at the time and had been classified as a stage 5 clinger (Girl who uses EVERY excuse in the book to hang out with you), so she gave us a warm welcome when we finally found the place.

LJ's Jumpoff: "Hey Guys! You made it!"

She was a cute, short Filipina girl with bronze skin and smile so wide that it showed gums at its corners.

Filipina: "The party is over here..."

Ron and I quickly gave her a little hug to bypass her into her friend's house and go straight to the alcohol. After I filled my cup I headed out to the backyard to see a crowd that could be called the rejects of hipster heaven.

Now I'm all for artsy girls with some tats and piercings in some curious places, but these girls seem like a band of hippies on bath salts.

Instead of having green-colored hair and high-rising shorts to show-off their trendiness, the rainbow-colors and frayed jean shorts were there to cover split-ends and hide spare tires (flab around waist).

Although the talent level was slim pickings, I decided to make the best of the night when a blonde hipster girl with a HUGE crimson chin came up to me.

CrimsonChin: "HEEEY, It's my birfdaay!"

RJ: "Happy birthday!"

CrimsonChin plopped in my lap.

Wow, talk about jumping on my nuts

After talking to CrimsonChin for .5 seconds it was clear she wanted something for her birthday. Usually I like to play hard to get, but I had a few drinks by the time she had come over.

RJ: "Are you trying to get a birthday kiss or something?"

CrimsonChin: "Yeeeaaa."

I leaned past CrimsonChin's massive jaw structure to reach her convenience store that she called a mouth. It tasted like cigarettes and liquor.

While I was slopping toxins with CrimsonChin, another girl took a seat next to us. She had a squarely chiseled face, piercing blue eyes, and brown hair with highlighted tips. Her cute grungy style made her look as though she could be in a band with Courtney Love. The huge mole on the left-side of her full lips would have made Austin Powers hungry for guacamole.

CrimsonChin: "Hey, this is my best friend from Texarkana!"

RJ: "What's good?"

Moley: "Hi."

After flashing me a smile, Moley looked at CrimsonChin.

Moley: "You know whu hey remands me dof?"

CrimsonChin: "Who?"

Moley: "Nyjah Huston!

Uh oh, my skater groupie senses are going crazy!

RJ: "What ya'll know about Nyjah Huston?!"

Moley: ""We knoe a lot abot skate boding! We hung out wit Antwaun Dixon and the Baker's team befo!"

Her Texan accent was peeking out a tad from the little house on the prairie.

RJ: "Antwaun?!"

Moley: "Yea Antwaun Dixon!"

RJ: "You talking about the skater?!"

Antwaun Dixon was one of the first black skaters that I had seen rip an entire routine with ease. He was one of the reasons my black ass even picked up a skate board. I was suddenly getting a sudden urge to fuck Moley and use her mole as trampoline for my kids.

Moley: "YEA! You kno woo dat iz?!"

Her country fried Texarkana twang was in full effect when she spoke now.

RJ: "Yea!"

Moley: "Oh you skate?"

RJ: "Yup."

Both CrimsonChin and Moley's eyes widened and beamed at me like two cats that had just found a year supply of cat nip.

Moley wants my nuts now. Fuck! I already made out with her CrimsonChin.

CrimsonChin: "I love yo dreads. Yor really cude!"

The alcohol was starting to slur CrimsonChin's speech, Moley just beamed at me with her eyes as if she was waiting for her chance to sit in Santa Balls lap and tell me how she wanted a stiff rod for X-mas.

Ron walked over to us three with a ginger on his arm with huge tits. Coincidentally, Ginger was a part of the Texarkana crew too.

Once we told the group of girls we were brothers their eyes lit up again. We talked to them for about a half an hour before Ron pulled me to the side to strategize. He turned his head to the Ginger who was now wearing his fedora.

Ron: "Hey we'll be right back."

Ginger: "Ok."

Ron motioned for me to follow him out of ear shot of the girls. He didn't even need to tell me what he was about to say. We both knew where this was going.

Ron: "Hey, invite CrimsonChin and Moley back to our place for a night cap. I'm going to invite Ginger."

RJ: "Aight."

We went back over to the girls.

RJ: "We're about to get out of here. Ya'll welcome to come over and hang out."

Moley: "Ok. Wait fo Ginger tu see if she wan tu cum."

When Ginger appeared walking towards our car wearing Ron's fedora I knew she was all in.

We all piled in the car with the girls sitting on our laps before driving off. When we got back to our apartment, LJ and Matt ended up leaving after noticing the three girls to four guys ratio so Ron and I chilled on our balcony with the three girls as they smoked some cigs.

Moley: "Dis iz aw nice place."

RJ: "Thanks"

Moley: "They got a poo 'round ere? I feel like goin' swammin'."

RJ: "We got a pool, but the gate is locked right now."

Moley: "Really? Let's hop tha gate an go swammin'!"

RJ: "Mmmmm. I'm really not trying to hop that gate."

Moley: "'C'mon!"

RJ: "....I got a bath-tub. You can swim in that."

Moley shrugged her shoulders.

Moley: "Ok."

"Ron! RJ!"

All five heads looked down our second story balcony to spot the Filipina who had invited us to the party walking up to our balcony in house slippers and pajamas. She had a fat black girl beside her.

Ron: "Well look who it is."

The Filipina and her fat black friend started chatting us up while more college kids desperate for a party noticed us on the balcony and walked up the stairs to investigate. Now usually I'm all for partying but it was getting late and I was getting tired.

It was time to cash out on this threesome and these girls seemed to be right on cue. As soon as the girls finished their cigs Ron started to shut it down.

Ron: "Aight, guys we're about to go to bed now, so we're about to lock the door. Come on guys."

He signaled to Ginger, Moley, CrimsonChin, and me to get inside before closing the door behind us and locking it.

Once we were inside he glanced at Ginger's turquoise amulet that perched right above her magnificent rack.

Ron: "I like this."

He reached out and grabbed the amulet with his right hand to take a closer look as Ginger's face turned to the color of her hair.

Ron: "It reminds me of the artwork in my room my best-friend made me."

The old "let's check out the artwork in my room" deal sealer eh?

Ron has used this countless times to get girls in his room. And it usually worked if they were already in the apartment.

Ginger: "Really? I want to see."

Ron: "Ok, it's up here."

Ron grabbed her hand and led the way upstairs. CrimsonChin and Moley didn't even put up a protest as they watched Ginger head up to her appointment with the family jewels.

Good.

Whores I can deal with. Hypocritical cock-blocking whores I can't.

I started to head upstairs and turned my head towards CrimsonChin and Moley.

RJ: "The bathroom's up here."

Both of them followed me up to my room. Ron already had his bedroom door closed before I closed the door to my bedroom after Moley and CrimsonChins entered it. CrimsonChin sat on the bed while I showed Moley my bathroom. Once I showed her how the tub works, I left her in there to start running a bath.

RJ: "I can't believe your friend is really going to take a bath right now."

CrimsonChin: "Yea she's cwazy. She don cure."

I sat on the bed and turned my head towards CrimsonChin to slip her the tongue. We both stripped naked and my fingers started to search her clam purse. Then I heard Moley running bathwater in the bathroom. I pulled away from CrimsonChin.

I'm going for gold. Fuck this silver and bronze.

RJ: "Hey, tell your friend to come out here."

CrimsonChin: "Nooooo...It's my birfday! I wan yu tu myself."

RJ: "Well the only way this is going down is if you tell her to come out here so we can have a threesome."

CrimsonChin dropped her Lincoln jaw. After closing those colossal chompers she shook her head and ran her fingers through her blonde bangs.

CrimsonChin: "Oh...my...gawd. I can beleave dis."

RJ: "Well, That's the only way it's going down."

CrimsonChin: "Why do yu wan to fawk ha so bad? She jus got out of a relayshunship. She's only had sex wit like two guys!"

Only two dudes?! That girl's pussy must be tight!

RJ: "How many dudes have you had sex with?"

CrimsonChin: "...Five..."

5 x 3 = 15. THAT GIRL'S A WHORE!

CrimsonChin: ".....I'm pwitty sho she'll fawk you anyways if yu fawk meh."

RJ: "Hmmm.. ok."

CrimsonChin straddled me and started to commence a loud cowgirl position.

CrimsonChin: "AHHHHH...yea."

I got on top of CrimsonChin and started to fuck her in missionary. After ten minutes, I felt I had fulfilled our agreement, so pulled out of her and headed towards the bathroom door.

CrimsonChin sat up straight. Her blue-eyes glared at me. Her huge jawline was hanging lower than before. I thought it might fall through the bed cushion.

CrimsonChin: "Wha are yu doin?!"

I didn't even answer her. I just headed to the bathroom door and gave it a little knock.

KNOCK KNOCK

Moley: "Who eh it?"

RJ: "It's RJ."

Moley: "Come aan!"

I cracked the door open enough to poke my head through and see Moley ass-naked in my bath tub washing her legs. She looked up with a wide southern belle smile as if she was waiting for me to come to supper from plowing the fields.

CrimsonChin's pink fields that is.

RJ: "Got room for one more?"

Moley: "Yea, cum own en."

As soon as my ass hit the tub water we were tongue fighting. Once I was hard enough, I turned on the shower and threw Moley on the tile wall. With the same condom that I used to fuck CrimsonChin, I started fucking Moley doggy style while standing up. After that got old, I laid down in the tub with my dick pointing to the air.

RJ: "Ride me."

Moley: "I'm not tu gude at dis."

Not good at riding?! Don't they ride horses, bulls, and shit in the country?!

RJ: "Well shit, I can teach you."

Once Moley straddled me I guided her hips with my hands in a riding motion. She wasn't doing too bad, but more water kept getting in her pussy and washing out all the lubrication on the condom.

You would think fucking in a tub of water would keep the friction to a minimum, but eventually it felt like I was bumping uglies with sandpaper.

I stopped her and picked her up out of the tub. I almost busted my ass walking to the bathroom door, but managed to make it through. As I was on my way to throw Moley on my bed, I caught a glance at my bed over Moley's shoulder.

My bed's whole bed spread was ripped off its bare mattress and sprawled on the carpet. Beer bottles, loose change, and my G-shock watches from my night-stand were thrown on top of my sheets as if someone was about to have a flea-market sale. Pens, pencils, and papers from my desk were also sprinkled on top of the mess.

CrimsonChin was nowhere to be found either.

AWWWWWW THAT FUCKING BITCH!!

As pissed as I was, I decided not to point out to Moley my room being in shambles from CrimsonChin's fits of rage since Moley might go looking for CrimsonChin like a good friend would. I just threw on another condom so my dick could punish Moley's pussy for another good hour.

Moley had a nice curvey petite body that look like she put it through Pilates classes, but her pussy was way too loose to only house two dicks before mine.

This pussy feels like it has WAY too many miles on it for only two drivers before me. She couldn't have fucked only two dudes.

BUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZ BUUUUUUUUUZZZZZZZ BUUUUZZZZZZZZZ

BUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZ BUZZZZZZZZ BUUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

As we were fucking her phone was going off like a tornado alarm in Oklahoma. We must have done every position in the book before I finished and she actually looked at her phone.

Moley: "OH MY GAWD! My frand cawled me like ate fawking times!"

RJ: "Oh. Well you might want to call her back."

Moley went straight to her voice-mail and put the phone on speaker.

CrimsonChin voice came booming out of her phone: "YU FUCKING BITCH!! YU FUCKING SLUOT!!! IT'S MY BIRFDAY AND YU KNU I LIKED HAM!! I CAN BELEAVE YU DID DIS SHIT! I LEFT YOUR AWSS OVER DER! HAVE FUN FINDIN A RIDE OME!"

Moley turn off the phone and turned her head towards me.

Moley: "Yeeeaaa. My frand left me ere. So uuuuh....Would it be cewl if I spen the nawt over he fo the nawtt? I can sleep own the cawch if you wan me tu."

RJ: "Yea, it's straight."

Since Moley was so cool I let her sleep in the bed with me. After thanking me for the sex, she started going into detail about just getting out of a two year relationship.

Moley: "I have a kid too. Two months old."

THAT explains her pussy feeling like a museum.

RJ: "How many guys have you had sex with?"

Moley: "Yu are my therd."

Sweet

RJ: "Am I your first black guy?"

Moley: "Yeeaaa."

SWEEEEEET

Every Hipster party I went to in Denton from that night on always seem to have a girl there that would come up and say: "Hey you're that guy that fucked my two friends!"

* * *

Let's Get Bizzz...ARE?

The Girl with the Dove Tattoo

(Between June – August 2010 Denton,TX)

By: Brother Ron Voyage

If a guy has managed to fuck at least five girls, chances are he has at least one crazy woman story.

It's always awesome for the first couple of fucks with a bat-shit bitch because they usually know their in's and out's around a dick. But no matter how great the sex is, you always must break it off after hitting it a couple of times, because pussy isn't worth living your life in a wheel chair.

With my awesome fortune, I've come to fuck a number of koo-koo for Coco-puffs, but there is one that made even Heath Ledger in _Dark Knight_ seem sane.

During a typical Denton weekend night, me, Ryan, Melo, my ultimate wing-woman Gabbi, Shelly and her then boyfriend Shane were all at an apartment party. There weren't a lot of people there, but there was a lot of alcohol and a couple of cute TWU girls. Once I got sloshed enough, I walked over to a cute Filipina who was wearing a fluffy blouse and was talking to a friend.

Ron: "Hey, that shirt you're wearing reminds me of something Prince used to wear."

The PrinceGirl and her friend laughed till the doves cried while I introduced myself and my group.

I started rambling off about one of my bullshit theories on life to seem like I was deep and invited PrinceGirl to a couch to go into more detail. I started to talk about my Spring Break in Panama City, when the alcohol had kicked in and I started to forget my whole point of why I was telling the story.

Ron: "The whole point of this story is.......ummmm."

PrinceGirl: "I'll be right back."

That's girl for: "you almost had me but you fucked up player, keep on trucking."

Luckily, a petite, short brunette walked in the apartment with a group of friends. With snake-bite piercings, perky tits, sky-blue eyes and dressed in see-through black lace, she looked as if Bettie Page was reincarnated as a Motley Crue groupie.

She came in the party not really talking to anyone unless she was spoken too. I decided to wait for her to go to the kitchen to approach her when I needed a refill on my drink. When I approached she was already in a conversation with Melo.

Melo: "This is my homeboy Ron."

She put out her hand.

BettiePageChick: "Hi, I'm.."

Ron: "WAIT, wait. Don't tell me. Is it..is it. ______?"

BettiePage: "Oh my god! How did you know that?!"

I had gotten this girl's name when I met her at my apartment complex's hot tub during my 21st birthday celebration a couple of months back. That night I had gotten so shitfaced that I was convinced that the hot tub was a part of my body.

Meanwhile, BettiePage had gotten amnesia drunk and cocked down by some black dude in the hot tub IN FRONT OF EVERYONE. Even though I knew this girl was on a rare plateau of whoredom, I knew that if she thought that I even saw her voyeur encounter she wouldn't fuck me, because she wouldn't want to seem more like a whore. But Alcohol is nature's neutralizer, so she didn't remember anything about me that night.

I had her right where I wanted her.

I conjured up my best whimsical wizard voice.

Ron: "I..I don't know...There's something about your face that made me hear _______."

BettiePage: "Wow."

Her eyes looked up at me like I had just caught a bullet with my teeth, but I ended up getting swept up in another conversation with someone else.

I wasn't sweating it. I had planted a seed of curiosity in her mind that I knew would sprout to spread her legs apart. It would only take time.

And more alcohol.

Around 2 am, I walked over from the kitchen to the balcony when a drunk as a seal BettiePage rushed over to me. She grabbed me, turned around, slammed her ass on my crotch before grabbing my face to stick her tongue down my throat. She pulled my face away and gave me a scary look like she was wondering what my brain tasted like.

BettiePage: "You want to get out of here?"

I gawked at her. It was the most direct and strangest mating dance I had ever witnessed.

I was rock hard.

Ron: "Sure."

She grabbed my hand and almost dragged me through the party until we were in the parking lot. Remembering that Ryan had my keys to drive everyone home, I hopped in BettiePage's all black Camaro. As soon as I sat down, I notice there was a basket full of dildos, vibrators, and lingerie at my feet.

Ho. For. Sho.

Before I could even could turn my head to ask her which one was her favorite, she revved up the engine, shifted in reverse, and floored the gas.

VROOOOOOOMMMM!

The G-force from the Camaro's horse power threw me onto the dashboard like a rag-doll as she slammed the brake once she pulled out.

ERRRRRRRRGHHH

I was thrown back into the seat with my feet almost hitting my chest. I looked at BettiePage as if she was Satan himself.

She had the twisted look in her eye that made me actually think that she was going to eat my head off once I fucked her brains out.

Uh oh.

I pressed my face to the passenger window to mouth a "HELP" to the PrinceGirl who was also leaving the party with her friends as BettiePage pealed out of the parking lot.

PrinceGirl and her friends just sneered at me and waved as we screech past them.

Those bitches.

SCREEEEEEECH!

VRROOOOOOOOOOOOOMMM

ERRRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHH

Now I can appreciate a girl's urgency to fuck me, because I ooze testosterone and like to get to business as soon as possible as well. But this bitch had me tossing around in that passenger seat like an unstrapped toy in a Christmas package and I EVEN HAD MY SEAT BELT ON. She was weaving out of the parking lot HARD as if she was Danica Patrick in the Indy 500.

Ron: "WHOA! PULL THE FUCK OVER!"

BettiePage: "What? What's wrong."

Ron: "You're driving like a fucking maniac! I'll drive!"

The Death Proof psycho bitch pulled over and we switched places. The rest of the ride to my apartment complex was a brief period of normalcy until we actually got to there and BettiePage saw the front sign to my apartment complex.

BettiePage: "Oh NO! You live at the _Forum!!!_ "

Ron: "Yup."

BettiePage: "NO...no we can't go to the Forum. That's where they _raped_ me!"

Oh boy.

Ron: "What?!"

I pulled into the nearest parking space for a second.

BettiePage: "Can we just go back to my place, Pleeeeaaaasee?!"

Ron: "Look, nobody is going to rape you. We are just going to my apartment. Everything will be ok."

BettiePage: "Noooooo. I want to go home. Give me my keys!"

Ron: "I'm not letting you drive off this fucked up."

BettiePage: "Give me my fucking keys!"

She lounged for the keys and ripped them from the ignition but I reached to catch part of the key-chain.

Ron: "You're NOT driving!"

BettiePage: "Give me, GIVE MEEEE!"

Her thin lips curled into a rage and her eyes budged out of her sockets before rolling to the back of her head. With every piece of strength in her 5'2" frame, she ripped a furry rabbit's foot off her key set and slammed her head on the passenger window.

The force from hitting her head must have knocked the demon out of her because her eyes rolled down and her lips pouted up. She looked at me with innocent eyes that look liked she was ashamed for the actions of the demon that had just possessed her.

I was shocked her head didn't do a complete 360 and spew pea soup on me.

BettiePage: "I'm sorry for that."

I shook my head.

What the fuck was I going to do with this girl? I know I'm going to have once In a lifetime sex that will leave me with jacking off material for years, but is it worth waking up with my dick stapled to my balls? How the fuck was I going to get home afterwards?

I paused a good minute before handing the keys to her.

Ron: "It's ok, let's just go to your place."

Her face lit up with excitement as we switched places. I buckled up and braced myself before we sped off into the night.

About thirty minutes later, we pulled into some decent looking suburbs in a small town outside of Denton called Sanger. BettiePage wove in and out of a maze of roads until we got to a house that looked as though the Huxtables could have lived there. It wasn't until we got inside her room that the place looked more like the perfect hangout for heroin addicts to shoot up.

The walls were marked up with holes and smudge. Dirty clothes sprawled over the rainbow stained carpet floor. Blinds were broken and hanging off the windows. And to top it off, a brown-stained mattress laid in the corner.

The place was one meth pipe away from being Skid Row, but I was so drunk and tired that I dived into that bio-hazard mattress head first.

BettiePage: "You're not going to sleep already? Are you?"

Ron: "Yea, turn off the lights."

The lights flicked off and I soon felt her body, stripped down to bra and panties, pressed against me. I turned over to hug her from the back. My hands slid down to her turquoise panties to rub her clit. My fingertips felt the dampness of her drawls as her head turned to kiss me. As soon as our lips touched, she launched herself on me as if she was longing to bust my tongue out of calcium prison.

I flipped her over to her back, tore her panties off, threw on a magnum, and pulled her on top of me to claim my prize for putting up with this insanity. As she rode me she started making grunts and screams like she was already having my baby.

BettiePage: "AAARRRRRRRRGGG! RAAAAAAAAAWWWWRRR!"

Strangely, this didn't really bother me much, because it made me think I'm was doing a good job. Then she started to ride my dick like I was her fucking Camaro, REALLY HARD.

Don't get me wrong. I believe that the Cowgirl is the best sex position for a man who is exhausted, because I only need to stay hard. But if a girl's hip thrusts are bending your dick into new 90 degree angles, it might be time to pick another chapter in the Karma Sutra.

I stopped her, picked her up, and slammed her back to start fucking her missionary.

As I got deeper inside of her, her nails got deeper into my back. I could feel my nut at the tip when the head of my dick started to jab something real sharp in there.

At first, the feeling of reaching my climax kind of masked the pain, but soon the pain was catching up to the pleasure.

THE FUCK IS THAT?!

Right when I was about to cum the pain became too unbearable, so I pulled out to finish on her belly.

Ron: "UUUUGGGGHHH".

I rushed over to turn on the light to see her spread eagle on her pissed stained mattress rubbing my cum all over her clit. Her sex-vixen arousal face turned to confusion when she saw the concerned look on my face.

BettiePage: "It's ok. You can cum in me."

I wanted to ask her if she had forgotten to take out the booby trap spikes in her pussy that she might have placed there for rapists, but then I remembered she was my ride home.

I also didn't want my throat slashed in my sleep. The only thing I could do was examine her pussy to see if I could figure out what was in there, but it look like any other pale white vagina.

I just came to my own personal conclusion that it must have been a vaginal dam if the girl was so cool with a complete stranger busting baby batter in her oven so I went to bed.

In the morning, I woke up with morning wood and a throbbing dick-head. For a second, I had considered to give BettiePage's boobie trap pussy another shot, but decided not to risk it. Instead, I just lay on the soiled mattress, wondering when she was going to take me home.

When she woke up only wearing those turquoise panties I got an amazing view of her petite body.

She had a tree going up her ribs with a Red bird in the middle of it. When she got up to go to peak out her blinds I saw the masterpiece on her back. It was a detailed Dove surrounded by hands and clouds that ran from her shoulder blades to the middle of her back. Right above the dove was the word "Faith" written in cursive.

BettiePage: "I need to get back to my medicine. Because the cops are after me right now."

And there's my cue.

Ron: "Can you take me home?"

BettiePage: "Right now?"

Ron: "RIGHT NOW."

I would have told my brother to pick me up if I would have remembered that she drove like The Bride on Twisted Metal Black.

Ron: "Will you slow the fuck down?!"

BettiePage: "I can't believe you're such a pussy."

I guess people who drive like that must have to have a WHOLE lot of faith if they think they'll live that long.

* * *

The Midget Pick Up line:

Ron: I just graduated from college and I just completed my fuck-it list. But I just added fucking a midget to it.

Midget 1: Well you're not scratching that off your list tonight bud.

Ron: Ok....What if I throw a Willy Wonka bar in there?

Midget 2: ARE YOU SERIOUS? I MIGHT BE SMALL BUT I DON'T PLAY THAT SHIT. GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!

* * *

Trapped in the Bedroom

(December 2012 Houston, TX)

As told to from: Brother JP

Written by: Brother Ron Voyage

During a regular day at University of Houston, where we skipped the homework and try to holla at the bitches, I grabbed John and Jena to go to one of my homeboy Eric's after-hour joints.

The place was actually a warehouse that looked like a sketchy dumpster hole. Google maps wouldn't even know where to find it, but Eric said there would be some strippers coming through at the spot. I didn't actually believe him, but any place in Texas that still serves beer after 2 am is my domain.

So the three of us jump in John's car and head over there. When we got there, there was a food truck that was serving barbecue by the door. There were already about four strippers in there, so I decided to eye-fuck them while I grabbed me a plate.

Eric was going around mingling with everyone before coming up to us.

Eric: "Hey man, you know any strippers? You can bring them through.

JP: "Shiiiiitt, I do. Fuck it, I'll call her."

I got on my phone and called up my first stripper I had fucked this past August. Initially, we had met in a club where she was having her birthday. I had sold her a party pack (A party pack is what I call a twinkie of coc, a molly, an exo, and a bar). I was wondering where the girl got her money from because she bought three party packs from me and those shits aren't cheap. Since her boyfriend was there she hesitated to slip me her digits that night. Our relationship was finally solidified when I walked in a strip club and saw her walking towards the strip pole when her name was called. When I tipped her with her own money that she gave me the night before she recognized me and she decided to pay my lap a visit once she got done working. When the club closed, I took her to a motel around the corner to smash. Once we had fucked, I had grown tired of her saggy titties so I stopped hitting her up until now. The bitch must have had a kid that held onto the titties with both hands to reduce her breast to speed bags.

Stripper: "Hello?"

JP: "Hey what's up. You want to make some money?"

Stripper: "Hell yea, that's what I do!"

JP: "Cool."

I took John's car to pick her up. She got in the car with a black shirt and jean shorts on. We brought her back to the warehouse but by the time we get there, it was 4 am and things were starting to shut down.

Aw shit, I did this for nothing.

I decided to get one last round of drinks before we would get kicked out. As I was ordering my Heinekens, an older black guy with a mustache and curly hair with balding spots on it sat down next to me. He had a face of a pug, but otherwise looked like a normal 50 year-old guy with a polo, some jeans, and Nike sneaks. That is if you could be considered a 50 year-old who hangs with college kids normal.

Pugs: "I got it. You want anything else?"

He must be trying to holla at our females. Well he can still pay for my shit.

JP: "A Ciroc and pineapple."

Pugs turned to the bartender.

Pugs: "Give the man what he wants."

While we waited for the drinks, dude struck up some small talk with me about school and our plans for the night. When the drinks came to us I took them, thanked him, and returned to the group.

JP: "Look at all these drinks this dude bought us."

Everyone looked at the five drinks in awe. I guess they didn't know how nice pugs can be.

Everyone started downing their drinks before we called it a night. We started walking out when we heard Pug's voice near the entrance as we were leaving.

Pugs: "Are ya'll going to the after-after hours spot?"

JP: "Where's it at?"

Pugs: "It's not too far away"

JP: "Alright, whatever; let's go! I want to drink anyway!"

We all jumped in the car and followed Pugs to another bar. The "bar" was a yellow brick building with no windows and barred doors. As soon as you walk in you see nothing but neon lights and a bar. There were also two pool tables in the back. Something about the place gave it an impression that it was meant for 40 year-olds and up. Pugs took us into a long, but narrow backroom. It must have been 8 X40 feet. At each end there were two TVs. To set the mood, Pugs put on two different pornos in each TV. I looked at the stripper.

JP: "Hey, you going to start stripping or what?"

Stripper: "Right here? Shit, ok."

She started to get ass naked before reaching into her bag and pulling out a black and red thong. Soon that was the only thing she had on. Jena looked disgusted and creeped out as the stripper started to dance and swing her titties that looked like barely filled laundry bags. Pugs started to buy everyone drinks. I decided to wing Jena into some action.

JP: "Yo give Jena a lap dance!"

Jena scrunched up her innocent Korean features and squirmed in her seat as the stripper grinded in her lap.

Jena: "AAAAHHH NOOOOOO!" As she pushed the stripper away.

The stripper eventually gets up after she realizes she's not Jena's cup of tea. Pugs eventually pulled out a little bag of coc and did a few lines with me and the stripper. After a while, John decides he's had enough fun.

John: "We finna to head out man."

JP: "Naw! Come on man!"

John: "You got a ride?"

I look over at pugs.

Pugs: "Yo I got a bottle of Ciroc and I got some weed at the house. I can take ya'll home."

I didn't know what this guy's angle was, but I really wanted to flip the stripper and I was faded as fuck.

JP: "That's a double triple bet!"

With that, John headed out with Jena who looked like she had just been saved. Little did I know that Pugs lived all the way in Cypress, which was a fucking hour away from where we were. We started to make our way to his place after a few minutes more of watching the stripper dance. I started to see the sun come up and realized we were still driving. People were already up to beat the morning traffic.

Where the fuck are we going?!

For a whole hour we drove to his place with me sitting in the back as the stripper amazed pugs with her ditziness. When we finally arrived, his house seemed like a regular one story house in a clean-cut neighborhood that seemed like it was holding a secret lair of child predators. We walked in to a clean orderly house, and for a moment I was at ease until Pugs put on some R Kelly.

Aw hell naw! Everybody knows what happens when you put the R Kelly on. Pugs is trying to fuck and pull a threesome.

Eventually, I figured pugs just thought I was cool enough for him to try to wing me into some stripper pussy, so I played along. We all get to the drinking in the living room while the stripper and dude did some lines and weed. A second wave of liquor hit my body as the stripper sat in my lap.

Pugs plopped on the couch next us to smoke a cigarette. He took a long drag on his cig and leaned on the arm rest before narrowing his eyes at us.

Pugs: "So let me ask ya'll something."

JP: "What's up?"

Pugs: "You ever had sex and then been thrown up on?"

I could have sworn I heard the R Kelly record skip.

JP: "WHAT?! HELL NAW!!"

Pugs calmly took another hit of his loosie. His face was completely blank as if he just asked if we had a lighter and found out we didn't.

Dude: "Oh, ok. Well if ya'll have sex can I pee on you?"

JP: "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Me and the stripper exchanged looks like we had just realized we had Hannibal Lector as a host. Pugs' face was completely casual as he got up to take his golden shower to the restroom. I turned my head to the stripper.

JP: "Look. After you done smoking that blunt, act like you're tired, go in that room, and wait for me."

She gave me a sly smirk that told me she wasn't tired at all.

Stripper: "Alright."

ALRIGHT, I'M FINNA SWERVE!

For some reason, I was surprised that she agreed to our sneaky quickie but what other choice did she have? Hang out here with R Kelly's pug all morning?

Pugs returned from his uneventful urination and sat back on the couch next to us. As soon as the stripper finished the blunt, she exited stage bedroom leaving me in the room with Pugs.

JP: "Yo, I'm finna lay down man. Is it cool if I crash?"

Pugs tried to hide his disappointment like a man who had just forked over a fortune on a date only to get a "goodnight" and a door slammed in his face.

Pugs: "Yea. Go ahead."

After chugging the last gulp of my drink, I headed into the bedroom and locked the door. My eyes first caught a _Dora the Explorer_ children's couch before landing on the stripper who was laying on a twin-sized _Dora the Explorer_ bed-spread but-naked.

This must be his daughter's room...WELL I'VE DONE IT BEFORE. FUCK IT!

With that, I strapped on a condom and dove in those pink double doors. For fifteen minutes, I spread the eagle and commenced the doggy. The stripper held her legs together as I waxed the heart shape. I was working on my second nut when...

Knock knock

The sound at the door paused my missionary for a split minute.

Pugs: "Hey! HEEY!"

WHAAAAT THE FUCK?!

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM

WHAT THE FUCK? IS HE TRYING TO BREAK UP IN HERE?!

I get off the stripper as she frantically starts putting on her clothes. I decided that she had the right idea and I start to put on my boxers as I made my way to the bedroom door.

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOOM

By the time I had my pants on the stripper was already fully dressed and had opened the bedroom window behind the bed. She climbed into the window sill to get ready to jump the one story drop.

JP: "Girl, what you doing?!"

Stripper: "I'M FINNA TO GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE, YOU?"

JP: "Naw, fuck that! I'm walking out the front door!"

BOOOOM BOOOOM BOOOOOM BOOOOOOOOOM

I took one look at the bedroom door and back at the window.

JP: "Hell yea, we got to get the fuck outta here. This guy trying to rape something."

We both jumped, hit some grass, and hit the corner. We did a little joggy jog until we found a gas station before taking a breath. Once we thought we were in the clear, I started to think on how we could get home, since Pugs was our ride. The only reasonable thing I could do was call John. It was only nine in the morning, so there was a good reason on why he didn't answer. Once I got done calling a taxi to take us back to Houston, I bought some tacos from a taco truck nearby.

The stripper and I sat down at a dining table on the side of the gas station so I could feast. My drunkenness was still at a level of slurring my speech and thinking every little event was hilarious. Just when I realized I didn't have my ID to get a brew to wash my tacos down with, a bum came up to us and started talking in Spanish. He asked me in Spanish if the stripper was my girlfriend. I told him no and asked him what he was going to do today which made him go off on some Spanish 2.0 that I didn't understand. Even though I am Mexican, Spanish is not exactly my second language, but I figured since he was a bum that he wanted money. And money talks all languages.

JP: "Yo bummy. Go buy us a six pack and we'll share it."

Bummy: "Bueno."

He took my eight bucks and went into the gas station to get the brews. When he came back with the six-pack, he sat down at the table with us and we started drinking. The gas station workers must have thought a trio of a Mexican, a stripper, and a bum was not fit to use their porch as our personal bar. One of them came outside.

Gas station worker: "Ya'll get out of here!"

We decided to finish our beers and tacos next door at some pizza place call Pink's. A whole hour went by before the taxi found where to pick us up. It cost me 70 bucks for the fucking ride to John's house. When we got there, John took the stripper home and I ended back at U of H campus. Even though the stripper didn't make any money that night she still called me the next day. I just hit the ignore button. I couldn't believe I fucked that stripper again. I wasn't trying to be in some holding hands situation with her.

She knew what her position was:

The one on her back!

* * *

CHALLENGE OF THE MONTH: JP's DeadSkeet Dad

Right when you start to bust, say in mid nut at the top of your lungs: "AWWWWW I WOULD HAVE BEEN AN AWESOME FATHEEEEEEER!"

* * *

Beat The Pussy Up

(Dallas tx 2011)

As told from: Brother Dbo

Written by: Brother Ron Voyage

Sgt. Delgado: "Whose fucking pictures are these on this fucking phone?"

Fresh from Iraq, Sergeant Delgado had finally found the picture of me wearing nothing but my ACU pants and my dog tags in his wife Jamie's phone. The evil bitch Jamie looked at her husband with her trademark soulless gaze as if he was a bum pestering her for some pocket change.

Jamie: "Your replacement."

Not even the emotional numbing mind-fuck of two tours in Iraq could stop the swelling of tears in Sgt. Delgado eyes. When he found out that Jamie had come to my dorm to fuck once they had got into a physical fight after he had found the picture in her phone I thought was a dead man. My roommate said he noticed that Sgt. Delgado's car was parked outside our place a couple of times when he was looking for me. Even though half of me thought my roommate was fucking with me, I barricaded myself in my dorm for at least a week and a half in hopes that everything would blow over.

Thank god for college ID security doors.

I guess my recruiting officer was still pissed at me for the whole ordeal, because instead of bailing me out of jail when I got caught with weed on my birthday, I ended up losing my scholarship to UTEP AND I got kicked out of the military. I had to beg my dad to buy me a one-way ticket back to Dallas so that as soon as I turned in my last final of the semester, I could properly disappear.

My "fucking up" spree continued once I moved back in with my mom in Dallas. I ended up losing the only job I could get at an Irving call center when I said "Fuck this" and left the floor to go drink half a liter of Southern tea vodka in my car when my manager kept bitching at me for my bad customer service at 9:30 am.

It was safe to say I was due for a nut, so I concentrated on my Quota for the month. I turned to my trusty blow-job factory Facebook to filter out some lucky contestants. I came across a stripper on there who will be known as BustedStripper. She was about a 5'9" bi-sexual brunette who looked pretty average, but earned brownie points for her tongue ring. She had a little spare tire on her, but her flab was proportionate to her size, so she could pass as a solid seven.

After chatting to her for a bit, she finally asked me to pick her up in Bedford on a Thursday night. I figured my mom would be asleep by 11:15 pm, so I decide to pick her up at 10:30 pm to give us some time to get drunk enough to fuck.

The only problem was we hadn't even fucked yet and this girl was making requests as soon as she got in my car.

BustedStripper: "Hey, Umm...before we go to your house I have a request... I just want to make sure my girlfriend is alright."

Dbo: "Yea, alright. What happened?"

Apparently BustedStripper's girlfriend had been pissed off by a group of people at some joe schomoes party. And somebody was getting their ass beat tonight.

BustedStripper: "I just want to make sure my girlfriend doesn't get jumped."

Dbo: "Ok...whatever."

Well this is awkward.

Even though my recent obsession with MMA training had me itching to test myself in a real fight, Uncle Sam's hand imprint on my ass cheeks still had not healed enough yet from the controlled substance charge for me to play problem child again. I was perfectly content in maintaining my pussy mode until my charges blew over. But even Uncle Sam can be questioned if enough pussy is involved.

One was enough for me.

BustedStripper gave me directions to an upscale neighborhood on the edge of Keller. We passed a couple of 300 thousand dollar houses until we reached a park where her friends were waiting. Her gang of warriors consisted of two fat white girls, a generic looking brunette, and a tall 6'2" white guy whose long scraggily brown hair made him favor Shaggy from Scooby Doo. After BustedStripper introduced me to her rag tag soldiers, they got visibly excited to see that they possibly had another set of hands to throw in this war.

GenericBrunette: "Oooo.. your pants are so nice."

DBo: "Oh...thanks."

One of the fat RolleyPolley white girls: "Ok so they're probably going to come up in a car or two..."

That was the last thing I heard before I walked off to find a seat on some park swings.

These people aren't going to show up for this. Fifteen minutes says that they will flake and BustedStripper's going to get in the car so we can go fuck.

After finding a good seat to view all the action, I started to get bored waiting for this so-called showdown. I called Ron to give him the scoop.

Ron: "What's good son?"

Dbo: "Hey dawg, I'm just chillin' with this chick who's talking about some fight that's about to come up."

Ron: "Hahaha. Oh yea?"

As I was giving Ron the intel, a car slowly creep up the street before parking at the edge of the park. Both of the cars had their headlights turned off.

Awww shit.

With my ear still to the phone, I watched as a dark fat-ass black guy barrels out of the car. If I was a racist white supremacist I could have thrown every racial epithet that slavery and Jim Crow created at this guy and I still would not have enough to do him justice. His face was pitch-black with glowing pinks lips that curled menacingly at us. He hunch over like an ape as he bounded towards me with raspy, bellowing curses flying from his mouth.

UnkleRuckus: "WHAT'S UP NIGGUUUUUHHHH?! YOU PART OF THIS SHIT?"

I quickly pointed towards the TallShaggy.

Dbo: "Hell naw! This ain't got nothing to do with me. It's them niggas over there! Go get them niggas!"

UnkleRuckus: "OK THANKS BRO!"

UnkleRuckus bounded past me sideways like an enraged ape and tore after TallShaggy.

UnkleRuckus: "WHAT'S UP NIGGGUUUUHH? WHAT'S UP NIGGGGUH!"

Before TallShaggy could correct UnkleRuckus on his politically incorrect ethnic slurs, UnkleRuckus ran right up to him and slugged with a hard right jab to the sternum. TallShaggy's head jerked forward before his giant figure slumped into a pile on the grass. He had enough time to curl up into a post-coital position before being covered with a tsunami of gorilla punches from UnkleRuckus. A wave of confidence came over UnkleRuckus's three female friends in the car who had just witnessed that Shaggy had been toppled.

All three of them stepped out of the car and rushed towards BustedStrippers friends. Two of them looked like a white and a black Amazon. The leader of them was a sexy 5'2" Hispanic girl who already had her dark hair pulled back in a pony-tail. She had a face of an angel turned GI Jane who look like she would bite the head of a dick off and use it as a Spaghetti meat ball. They were hungry for blood.

Hispanic girl: "WHAT'S UP BITCH?! WHAT'S UP BITCH?!"

The poor GenericBrunette was the first victim in the line of fire. Before she could even put her dukes up, the Hispanic-girl stepped-in, tucked her head, and brought a left over-head hook to GenericBrunette's nose.

CLANK

GenericBrunette's nose instantly splattered with blood as her head jerked back. Black-Amazon and White-amazon then bumrushed Rolley-Polley giving her a few hard rights that had her backing up in retreat. To keep her from running, Black-Amazon reached out and grabbed Rolley-Polley by her pony-tail before wrenching her head back. White-Amazon then used this as her cue to use Rolley-Polley as her personal flailing punching bag. As GenericBrunette backed away, The Hispanic girl then stepped to BustedStripper and delivered a solid left to BustedStripper's right cheek's button.

SMACK!

BustedStripper crumbled to the floor like a lawn chair. Blood rushed to my loins as I watched the Hispanic chick stand over BustedStripper to give her face two UFC hammer fists fatalities.

WHACK. WHACK.

BustedStripper now laid there with only small sobs and stirs.

DAMN! Who is this bitch? And why haven't I fucked her?!

The Hispanic chick must have pronounced BustedStripper TKOed, because she then joined the rest of her four Amazon friends to put the clinic on the rest on BustedStripper's army. The Amazons gave GenericBrunette and Rolley-Polley a flurry of short uppercuts that left them playing dead or retreating like a Mike Tyson victim.

Amazons: "HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH."

In the thickest and sexiest Hispanic accent I had ever heard, the Hispanic Chick belted out her chola victory chant:

"WE GOT CHU NOW! WE GOT CHU NOWWWWW!"

BustedStrippers friends were reduced to nothing but cowering possums.

The Amazons and UnkleRuckus laughed their asses off as they walked through the destruction in their wake back to their car. This would be the closest thing to seeing the Aftermath scene of Hiroshima after WWll.

Once they closed the door and sped off, I decided it was a good time to come play hero.

Dbo: "Ron, I gotta call you back."

I hung up the phone and ran towards BustedStripper who was still sobbing her eyes out in the grass.

BustedStripper: "I'M SO OVER THIS SHIT!"

Dbo: "Are you ok?"

BustedStripper: "FUCK NO!! THAT LITTLE BITCH THAT HIT ME HAD BRASS KNUCKLES!!....Let's just go to your car."

BustedStripper's wounded soldiers woke Tall white guy from unconsciousness, picked him up, and walked him over to a park bench. As the wounded tended to their wounds, a switch back to pussy mode clicked back in my head. Paranoid that cops would show up at any moment now, I collected BustedStripper and walked to my car.

I already lost my scholarship. I'm not about to sit there and get arrested again!

As BustedStripper climbed into my car I noticed that she was visibly pissed.

BustedStripper: "THAT'S FUCKED UP! That was not even my fight! I don't even know how I got involved in this stupid shit! They didn't even have my fucking back when I was getting fucking hit."

While driving away from the park, I zoned out of BustedStrippers bitching and started to feel sorry for my semi-hard dick. The poor bastard that had literally longed to conquer the Hispanic Warrior princess' sugar walls would now have to settle on flailing in the insides of her victim. I now understood women at the club who secretly wanted to go home with the alpha male that knocked the dog shit out of her drunk boyfriend who threw a tantrum because someone scoffed his brand new penny loafers.

Sure she would scream. Sure she would carry her unconscious boyfriend out on her shoulders. Sure she would take her man home to wrap his wounds, but when her boyfriend was passed out she would secretly dream of that alpha male occupying her wet spaces for many years to cum.

Being attracted to strength and power was not just a girl thing. It was a nature thing.

That display of Mortal Kombat told my dick that if it had impregnated that Hispanic chick not even Scar would dare to hurt a hair on our Simba's head.

That is unless he wanted a mob of laughing Amazons to pummel his head in.

In a last minute effort to salvage a night of sex with BustedStripper, I quickly convinced myself that the sexy Hispanic warrior princess was just a hoodrat who would be more of a future liability for my legal troubles. Unfortunately, fate has a funny way of fucking with my schlong.

As we stopped at a red light, a car rolled up beside us. BustedStripper and I exchanged glances once we realized it was the same car that carried Hispanic warrior princess and her cronies. BustedStripper's face froze in terror as we watched them celebrating their decimation by reenacting it punch by punch inside the car. Hispanic warrior princess and her cronies were so into their conversation that they didn't even notice me and BustedStripper.

Afraid that Hispanic warrior might glance over and offer BustedStripper a rematch, BustedStripper quickly suggested we take a more scenic route back to my place instead of waiting on the greenlight.

BustedStripper: "GO RIGHT GO RIGHT GO RIIIIIIGHHHTT!"

I turn on my right signal just when the traffic light flashed green. As Hispanic warrior princess and her cronies started to make their left turn UnkleRuckus popped his head up from the back seat. He pointed a rojo-dark finger at BustedStripper as his menacing pink lips revealed a set of pearly whites that quivered together as he mouthed an "AHAHAHHAHAHHAH" through their car window.

DBo: "See? This is exactly why I didn't want to take you over there."

I took a right and kept my eyes glued forward to postpone their meeting with BustedStripper's face. On the way back to my place, I stop by a Race Trac to get some gas and mixers for the Bacardi. Once I got done pumping, I sat in my car to wait for BustedStripper to get back from the gas station.

BustedStripper: "Yeeaa...He gave me everything for free."

She sat down in the passenger seat and leaned over to the back to set our stuff down.

DAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMNNNNNN.

I couldn't put off the eye contact any longer. My eyes finally stole a glance at three DEEP cuts that lined both of BustedStripper's eyes and forehead. She looked as though she had been taken down and elbowed to death by Anderson Silva. You know when a gas station clerk says everything is on the house when you go to check out, that you've had a long fucking night. Especially when my dick is a part of it.

BustedStripper went straight to the bathroom to clean up her face once we made it to my place. Unfortunately, my mom happened to be up and she knew that me bringing a girl home this late only meant one thing.

Usually mom would at least bitch at me for using her house as my personal harem, but not on this night. She couldn't find the heart to deny this abused kitten her son's Mandingo after seeing those gashes on her face. After BustedStripper and I drowned the events of the night in three glasses of Bacardi we finally got down to business.

Once I got her pants off she laid on her back and spreaded her legs. I raised an eye-brow at her before twirling my finger in a circle to signal for her to turn around. I needed to warm up before I did missionary on those Hell raiser cuts.

So for the next fifteen minutes I fucked her doggy style when...

WHOMP!

BustedStripper: "Ugghhh!"

Her wounded face bumped into the headboard as I got a good stroke in.

Fuck this is awkward! I guess I'm ready to look hell raiser in the face now.

I flipped BustedStripper over and put her legs over her head for a pile driver, but she soon stopped me after a few pumps.

BustedStripper: "I can't... I'm starting to get a headache from the fight and the alcohol."

I got off her so she could rollover into her post coital that had protected her so well during her brawl.

I rolled over my side of the bed to consider giving up on finishing, but then I remembered all the bullshit I put up with tonight. I was NOT going to go to bed with blue balls because BustedStripper here had got some pre-sex headshots.

Like the lazy asshole I am, I grabbed my phone to send BustedStripper a text: " _Can I get some more head_?"

Dbo: "Check your phone." I said without turning over.

BustedStripper grabbed her phone and read my message.

BustedStripper: "My head hurts"

Dbo: "I still need to cum."

Eventually BustedStripper saw the logic in my argument and started to fellate me once again.

BustedStripper's bob-n-weaving might not have fared well in a fight, but she was a world champ on a dick. Her Grind-the-pepper head game was so good that after only a minute of playing with my dickhead she had a good coat of my _neospermen_ all over the open cuts and gashes on her face.

She didn't even wince in pain as my salty soldiers splashed in her face's bloody creeks. I guess cum would be the last of your face's worries if your face was punished with brass knuckles a couple of hours before.

* * *

Are you writing this down?

By: Brother Ron Voyage

Girl: I can tell you're not accustomed to dealing with a girl who will be real and tell you exactly what is on her mind. You probably never even dealt with a girl who has a mind of her own. Let me put it to you like this. I am no option. I am not a bitch. I did not want to have sex with you. If I did I would have by now. You wouldn't even be able to fathom the greatness of my sex. You can't even handle my character what makes you think you were going to get my sex. You're hilarious.

And if I am such a bitch why are you still talking to me?

Ron: Boredom will make you do crazy things. But you're probably right. I would have no clue on what to do with that pancake ass. Much less, your ratchetness would probably kill my boner.

PS: I know I'm hysterical. ^_^

Girl: hahahaha keep them coming I'm writing this shit down

Ron: O as am I .

* * *

The Great Corrupter

(March 2013 Dallas,TX)

By: Brother Corrupter

Written by: Ron Voyage

Corruption gets a bad rep. When I took a girl's virginity and then left her at a gas station because I didn't have enough gas to take her home, I wasn't trying to scar a girl for life. I was trying to enhance it. There's something about bringing out the side in someone that has been suppressed by parents, after-school specials, and sermons that gives me a boner. I marvel at bringing out that wild, risky, and strange side to show them that it is not as dangerous as society has crammed in their head to believe. It is as vital to being a complete person just as much as those Bible studies and PTA meetings. If it weren't for that rebellion that is instilled in every one of us, the U.S. would still be one of Britain's bitches.

In a way, I'm a life coach.

Instead of teaching you how to succeed in relationships and success, I coach on how to FEEL alive and not just breathe.

I create memories.

I create an adventure that makes their heart race for a few seconds to remind them that they had once been alive. Granted, that adventure might have given those who I've corrupted some scars, dented bank accounts, and questioning of self-values, but that rebellious moment will be proof to them that they are a person.

Not some corporate robot.

Not some societal slave.

A being who bought into its desires and fantasies that the world had promised only to be thrown a mortgage, a worn out car, and some desk job to kiss-ass to keep it all. What does all that shit have in common?

ALL OF THEM CAN BE TAKEN FROM YOU.

You know what can't be taken from you?

Experiences

The best/worst thing about experiences is that EVERYONE can afford them, but most people are too much of a pussy to pay the price of risk. This is why corruption is necessary:

Corruption sorts out who gets to live and who has to just breathe.

The people that I've corrupted know that it doesn't matter how many Lexuses or trips that trust-fund supervisor screaming at them has, they know in their hearts that chump couldn't make a trailer to that movie that _we_ starred in. And that's what I live for: To break down that Berlin wall that tradition and control has built in order to give people the chance to experience the forbidden and decide if it's for them. In the end, when their lives flash before their eyes the part where I come in would be the favorite highlight, because in those moments they were truly free.

That is why I am called _The Great Corrupter_. And more importantly that is why I wear it with no regrets. I happen to work at a gym with two guys who need a lesson on how to feel alive.

On the third day of spring break we decided to go out. One of them was a blue-eyed and six foot slim, white dude who was brought up in a conservative Mormon household. TheMormon's best friend who decided to come with us was an all American built, red-head ginger who looked like the main guy in _Hunger Games_. But unlike the sensitive pussy in _Hunger Games_ , TheGinger was an All AMUURican Texan. He loved his Fox news, rifle shopping, and saying borderline racist shit that lined the walls of southern suburbia in Plano, TX. These guys were some poor little rich kids whose experience in women ended with snooty Plano princesses and Bible Belt soccer moms. They were in DIRE need of a man to show them a way of out of this Pleasantville prison. The night that we decided to go out, I decided to put them on my Corruption program:

1. Getting them shitfaced sloshed.

2. Getting them some titties from a morally challenge slut in their faces.

3. Rinse and Repeat.

I had seen this process many times at a rave club in Dallas called the Lizard Lounge so I decided to take them there. After working out at our gym, the three of us went to the TheGinger's house before all riding in TheGinger's car over to their training ground. For supplies, we took a bottle of rum and two liters of soda, which I drank most of, while TheGinger and TheMormon babysat the rest. I was the first one to pay the cover and walk into the club. The first thing my eyes saw was a crowd of dudes wearing dog collars, trench coats, and gimps suits.

At least I thought they were dudes. It was really hard to tell since a lot of them were wearing leather masks. Judging by the leather laced women that were riding men like horses with leashes wrapped around their faces, I guess it was a pretty even ratio. The place looked the set Neo went to meet Trinity by following the white rabbit.

OH NO

Since TheGinger and TheMormon were behind me in line, I pulled out my phone and tried to call them before they paid the cover. My phone didn't even have enough bars to send a fucking text message.

Fucking T-Mobile.

By the time I could walk out to tell them not to come in they were already inside looking around wide-eyed like two Dorothys in the Wizard of OZ. Their "WTF" faces told me that they were out of their element when they walked up to me by the bar.

TheGinger: "Dude, what the fuck is this?!"

Corrupter: "Dude, ok... We came on the wrong night. We're at the Church. The lizard lounge turns into the Church but I didn't know it was today."

TheGinger: "Oh... What the fuck?"

Corrupter: "I'll order a couple of shots so we can withstand this."

TheMormon: "No man, I don't really feel like drinking."

1. Getting them shitfaced sloshed. (pending)

Corrupter: "I'll take them."

When the bartender came back with our three shots, I chugged my beer and downed all of them.

I looked at TheMormon and TheGinger to see their faces still had a mix of shock and disappointment. I had built this place up as some Playboy mansion only to walk them straight into _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_. This would be the first course I would teach them: Get rid of expectations. They can be dangerous to a good time.

I'm going to take ya'll motherfuckers for a ride

Corrupter: "Let's just make the most of it."

TheGinger: "Uuhhh..Yea..sure."

TheGinger unscrunched his face from pure disgust to mild reluctance. In no way was he happy with our starting point, but I could tell the balls-out red-neck was slowly inching out of him to go out in a blaze of glory this night. He tried to bounce some jokes off me to ease TheMormon's bewildered look on his face, but TheMormon still kept looking like a scared Nazi youth on the set of _The Crow_. And he had a right to be, especially by witnessing dominatrices beating the shit out of beta males wrapped in skin tight latex. He was definitely not in the Church of the Latter Day Saints, but he knew the only way to get off this airplane was to jump out of it head first. I had fucked up, but they knew there was no turning back.

We were committed.

I motioned toward the smoking porch across the dance floor.

Corrupter: "Let's go out here, have a stogy and see if we want to stay or hit up something else."

As soon as we took a seat on one of the porch's bench, we started getting bombarded by droves of damsels of the dark like vultures on a dead carcass. This was probably due to the fact that our school-boy prep attire made us look like we had a better future other than sitting in dark meth houses and cutting our wrists while crying our eyes out. Our multi-colored polos were like three bright lights in darkness whose brilliance attracted all the black flies. One of them was a fat, white Rhino whose thick white rolls made her seem to have more width than height. I couldn't get over her black Etnies that she wore with her black shorts.

Who the fuck still wears Etnies?

Her regular sized black top was stretched to its thread count to anchor two titanic sized tits. They were pale white and etched with green veins that seemed to jiggle with warning. Her black top hung so low it showed a grand canyon sized cleavage that somehow showed everything but her nipples.

As repulsive as they were, I couldn't stop staring at them.

As soon as she walked up to us she smiled and started to shamelessly hit on me as I smoked.

Rhino: "Are you lost handsome?"

I took a drag from my square and exhaled.

Corrupter: "No, I'm not lost. I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."

The Rhino smiled.

I looked at TheGinger and TheMormon to give them an "I GOT THIS" smirk. They both looked at each other as if they were questioning my quality of pussy that I had boosted to them. It's crazy how much an audience of your boys will inspire you to put on a show. Even if the leading lady is the lost hungry, hungry hippo.

Rhino: "Are you alone?"

Corrupter: "No, I came with them."

I pointed at TheGinger and TheMormon. TheGinger's face started to slowly scrunch back into pure disgust.

Rhino: "What's your name?"

Corrupter: "Corrupter. By the way, this is TheGinger and TheMormon."

TheGinger and TheMormon both snapped out of their awe of the batch of rolls poking out of Rhinos sides enough to mumble a "Hi".

Rhino: "I shake hands."

She beamed at them and extended her behemoth arms towards them to swallow their hands. It was like watching Moby-Dick gulping down rainbow trout.

Rhino: "You guys are cute too. What do ya'll do?"

TheMormon: "We all work together at a gym."

Rhino: "Ooo that's why you guys look muscular."

Corrupter: "Yeeahh."

Rhino: "I work out sometimes."

I felt TheGinger and TheMormon eyes burn into the side of my face as I kept eye contact with Rhino. I just shook my head.

I'm going to just look at you bitch and pretend that I believe you.

Corrupter: "Uh huuuhhh."

At that point, I had noticed a cute brunette sitting on a bench across from us. She looked like a hybrid of Asian and white with jet black hair and a nice set of twins. Her matching black shirt and skin tight jeans hugged her coke bottle figure. She was eye-balling me while talking to her hideous friend. I left TheGinger and TheMormon with the Rhino and walked up to the CuteGoth.

Corrupter: "These guys...."

I sat down next to CuteGoth and pointed towards TheGinger and TheMormon while flashing a cheesy smile.

CuteGoth: "What?"

Corrupter: "These guys are ridiiiiicuuuulous."

CuteGoth: "...Are they?"

The CuteGoth couldn't even see who I was talking about until TheGinger poked his head from side of Rhino's flab to give us a "WHAT THE FUCK" lip read.

Corrupter: "Reaaally. They're reeeaaally fucking ridiculous."

CuteGoth turned her body away from her friend and towards me in her seat.

Corrupter: "These dudes... They haven't seen SHIT in their lives. I take them to their first rave and..."

I lowered my voice, put my lips to her ear, and pointed to the Rhino across from us.

Corrupter: "And that's what they see."

CuteGoth: "Hhahahahahahha. You guys don't know her?"

Corrupter: "Fuck no!"

CuteGoth: "O. My. God. And you left them?!"

Corrupter: "YUP. Hahahahah."

CuteGoth started to scoot closer to me. The more and more that we flirted, the more her grenade friend got bored. I was taking away the grenade's only attention she was going to get all night. Like most grenades, her grenade pin came off for her to blow up and start cock-blocking.

Grenade: "Excuse me."

She leaned over CuteGoth's body so her head was between us.

Grenade: "What did you say your name was again?"

Corrupter: "Oh, I didn't give it."

Grenade: "Well aren't you a cocky little shit?"

Is Corrupter going to have to check a bitch?

CuteGoth scooted out of the line of fire so that I could counter Grenades verbal punches being thrown at me. Every joke jab she threw at me, I let it roll off my back and returned with a haymaker. I was Mayweather. She was Guerrero. There was nothing the Grenade could do to knock me out and stop the flow of wetness in CuteGoth's pants.

Once the Grenade friend was down for the count, I started to talk to CuteGoth again. CuteGoth and I were finding out we were in the same graduating class in High School when I caught a glance at TheGinger and TheMormon. They had a crowd of more Goth girls surrounding them. Rhino seemed to be drunker than ever. Her gargantuan tits were only inches from TheGinger's and TheMormon's faces.

Corrupter: "One second. Let me check on my friends."

CuteGoth: "Yea, Yea. See if they're alright."

I walked over to the crowd of Goth girls to overhear their flurry of questions for TheGinger and TheMormon. TheGinger and TheMormon's faces were bright red.

GothGirl: "What's ya'll name?"

GothGirl: "Where are you from?"

GothGirl: "Do you work out? It looks like you work out!"

It sounded like the True Blood edition of Elimidate, only with the two male contestants looking like they were going to be eaten instead of getting laid. At first it was funny to see TheGinger and TheMormon's conservative circuits being fried, but they were being overwhelmed.

Corrupter: "Hey what's up guys?"

GothGirls: "Heeey who are you?"

Rhino: "Corrupter!"

Corrupter: "How you guys doing over here?"

Rhino: "We're doing GREAT we're actually just talking about how we're all going back to my place."

The Rhino flashed a thirsty smile to TheMormon and TheGinger. They returned the favor with frozen faces and silence.

Corrupter: "Hey guys, I heard of some other shit going on. I'm... trying... to get... the idea that we can go."

TheGinger: "Oh yea?! What is it?"

Apparently TheGinger doesn't know a courtesy cock-block when he sees one.

Corrupter: "Uhhhh...Some party?"

TheMormon: "Whose?!"

MOTHERFUCKER I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU OUT OF THIS!

Rhino: "But the party's right here!"

With a wiggle of her rolls, Rhino pulled off her black top and her quadruple D's seemed to bungee jump from their prison of her chest to a sea of lard that was her belly.

SMACK!

The impact of those asteroids sent waves of ripples through her body like a water bed. TheMormon and TheGinger mouths hung open in horror.

I didn't know whether they were paralyzed with shock or they just didn't want to anger Rhino's titan tits that were just inches from their faces. Rhino was either too socially awkward or too proud of her monsters to care what our reactions were. The smirk on her face was as cocky as it was liberating.

Rhino: "Do you like my tits?"

TheGinger and TheMormon's scarlet faces didn't say a word. They just looked at me with pleading wide eyes like I was their only hope to be saved from death by titty suffocation.

2. Getting them some titties from a morally challenge slut in their faces.

Corrupter: "THOSE...ARE...SOME MAGNIFICENT TITTIES!"

Rhino turned her head towards me. Her smirk grew wider with cockiness.

Rhino: "Oh you like them?!"

She turned her two warheads towards me and jiggled them in my face.

SMACK SMACK.

Wow...wow.

As gruesome as those warlocks were, they were the some of the softest pair of tits to touch my face. Like two nimbus clouds crashing into my cheeks.

Those were kinda nice.

Before I could ask her to motorboat me again I caught myself and quickly matched TheGinger's and TheMormon's faces of horror.

Corrupter: "Hey guys, didn't we have that thing?"

Both TheMormon and TheGinger: "YEA! THE THING!"

With Rhino's missiles no longer cornering them, TheGinger and TheMormon sprung out of their seats.

TheMormon: "Well... It was nice to meet you guys."

Rhino: "Whatever. Fuck ya'll!"

She started to tame her pale beasts back into their leashes that were her stretched out shirt.

Corrupter: "Allrighttt. See you guys around."

I didn't even follow up with the CuteGoth. The three of us just hauled ass back to the car through fits of laughter.

Corrupter: "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Close the door before she eats us!"

TheGinger: "QUICK BACK OUT BEFORE SHE CAN CORNER US IN HERE! WE WON'T BE ABLE TO MOVE HER!"

After we got a good laugh driving around and reflecting on how we survived the Rhino's mating ritual, we mutually decided to kick it up a notch. The problem was it was nearly 2 am. Everyone who lives in Dallas knows that most places shut down since it is illegal to still serve alcohol past 2 am. That is unless it's a strip club.

TheGinger: "Let's hit a strip club!"

Corrupter: "I don't know of any strip clubs."

I'm not much for strip clubs. It goes against my beliefs of not paying for pussy. Especially from a menu you can't order from.

TheGinger: "Well there's one that me and my brother always go to. It's called Clubhouse."

TheMormon was quiet as if he didn't want to be the deciding vote, but I knew he want to see some quality titties in his face at some point of the night.

Corrupter: "Fuck it, let's go."

Fortunately, the rum kept me company in the back seat so by the time we got to The Clubhouse my attitude towards strip clubs had completely changed. I went from hate with a passion to a perverted Quagmire.

I skipped around like a schoolboy with the rum in my hand while screaming ""TITTIES! TITTIES! I WANT TO SEE SOME TITTIIIIIIES!" and "SPRING BREAK MOTHERFUCKER!". TheMormon and TheGinger laughed and cheered me on as I slipped some bills in the first stripper's G-string I saw.

After we calmed down, we tried to find a seat by the stage that wasn't littered with cum stains. Why strip clubs like The Clubhouse have those black lights astounds me. They make EVERY bodily fluid ever squirted on that places furniture glow like lighthouse beacons. While we were getting seated, I accidently pushed one of the chairs into a nearby black light causing dozens of spots, lines, and drizzles of body fluids to glow. It was so blinding it looked as though the chair was fucking contaminated with radioactive waste.

After black-lighting at least five chairs we collectively decided that there was not three chairs in that shit hole that wasn't drenched in skeet. I just grabbed TheGinger's coat laid it over a cum chair before sitting down so I wouldn't get syphilis. I then proceeded to kill the rest of the rum while taking in the scene.

It was pretty pitiful in there for a spring break night.

There was barely anybody in there, and the looks talent was barely better than the Lizard Lounge's. There was only one cute short stripper there with a bubbly ass. When she threw her ass in my face, I slapped it while calling her a "Good little slut".

My co-workers didn't know better not to leave me unsupervised with alcohol so they got up to flirt with some other strippers and left me with the rum. When they came back, I had damn-neared killed the rum and was passed out in my jizz-drenced throne. After about 40 minutes, TheGinger woke me up.

TheGinger: "Come on, buddy."

As soon as I woke up I started spitting out combos of hors, sluts, bitches, cunts and a flurry of other obscenities at the strippers.

Corrupter: "Hey are those fake? YOU STUPID BITCH!"

TheMormon: "SHUT UP CORRUPTER!"

TheGinger hung his head in shame and TheMormon looked visibly pissed. I guess his female nurtured conscience had enough of my drunken belligerence.

Corrupter: "YOUR DADDY DOESN'T LOVE YOU!!"

BubbleButt: "STOP!

Corrupter: "You're a BAD little slut for daddy aren't you?"

I gave BubbleButt another hard ass tap while she bent over in doggy style. She turned around and scrunched her face as if she was offended.

Corrupter: "YOU CAN'T GET OFFENDED! YOU'RE BUT NAKED ON A POLE!"

BubbleButt: "OK, this shit isn't cute anymore."

I took out another dollar bill, crumbled it up, and heaved it in BubbleButt's face.

Corrupter: "DANCE BITCH!!!"

BubbleButt: "GET THE FUCK OUT MOTHERFUCKER!!"

Another short brunette stripper strutted up beside BubbleButt to us.

Brunette: "Is this guy bugging you?"

BubbleButt: "HE KEEPS TALKING SHIT!! FUCK THIS GUY!! FUCK YOU!! FUCK ALL YOU!!"

Corrupter: "Whooooaaa, the fuck is her problem?"

TheMormon and TheGinger quickly got between me and BubbleButt who was now cursing at me at the top of her lungs.

TheMormon: "I'm sorry! He doesn't mean that! He's just drunk!"

Corrupter: "NO BITCH! I'M SAYING IT BECAUSE IT'S TRUUUUUEEEE!"

I picked up another dollar bill, crumble it up, and threw it at BubbleButt.

TheMormon: "STOP THROWING MONEY AT THEM!"

TheGinger and TheMormon quickly grabbed me to post me on the wall across from the stage to keep me from falling over. They both went back to the stage to calm down BubbleButt and Brunette.

TheGinger: "He REAAALLY doesn't mean that."

BubbleButt: "LOOK AT HIM! HE'S FUCKING LAUGHING RIGHT NOW!"

TheGinger and TheMormon looked back to the corner where they left me. I was wobbling around with a big grin on my face

Corrupter: "I FUCKIN' DO!"

BubbleButt and Brunette reached for some cans of beer from the DJ booth, picked them up, and started chucking them at me.

WHAP!

One of the cans cracked me on the head spewing beer everywhere. TheMormon and TheGinger both tried to stop them but the stripper's half-empty cans and bottles were pouring over me like I gave a bad stand up at the Apollo Theater. BubbleButt and Brunette were out for blood.

Brunette: "WE'RE GOING TO CALL SECURITY!"

TheMormon and TheGinger finally gave up. They ran over to me and grabbed me by the arms.

TheGinger: "DUDE! WE NEED TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

I only responded with a giggle as they both dragged me out to the parking lot. When I flipped the strippers the bird while we were at the exit, the strippers stopped their barrage of beer cans and sprinted after us.

We were halfway to the car when TheMormon and TheGinger caught a glance of BubbleButt and Brunette running out towards us BUCKNAKED. When I saw BubbleButt's and Brunette's titties flopping in every direction in their sprint towards us I grabbed TheGinger's car door handle and started to rapidly wrench it open. It wouldn't open at first because TheGinger kept pressing the unlock button while I kept flipping the hatch.

TheMormon: "CORRUPTER STOP!"

Corrupter: "OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!!!!"

TheGinger lunged in the back to open my door and I threw myself on the backseat seat as TheGinger hit the engine and sped off. I kept laughing my ass off like a deranged Joker as we drove across the street to a gas station.

Corrupter: "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA."

Once we pulled up to a pump I opened the car door and step outside to take a leak.

SCREEEECHHH

A car screeched to a pump behind us. The doors flung open. BubbleButt and her lackey Brunette stepped out of the car in t-shirts looking steaming red.

Corrupter: "What the fuck are these hors doing here?!"

BubbleButt: "THAT'S IT MOTHERFUCKER! I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!!! FUCK YOU!!"

BubbleButt and Brunette both rushed me with their fists swinging.

Corrupter: "Hahahahahahah...Stop..hahahahahahah."

I couldn't help but giggle while swatting away their punches and slaps like gnats. They were so tiny and I was so wasted.

I felt like Gargamel holding off a swarm of Smurfettes.

Apparently TheMormon didn't find the humor in two semi-midget strippers trying to jump me. TheMormon and TheGinger rushed out of the car.

TheMormon: "WHOA WHOA WHOA!!"

TheMormon got between me and the strippers to try to calm them down once again. BubbleButt actually brought her temper down a couple of notches talking to TheMormon.

While BubbleButt vented to him about how much of an asshole I was, Brunette went back to the car and opened her driver's side door. She stuck half her body in the car for a moment before pulling out two coat hangers that were strung out into switches. She returned to the three of us and whipped her metal switches over TheMormon's shoulder at me.

WHOOOOOOSSKKKKKKKK

I threw my forearm up to catch the switch in the air.

WHAAAP

OK! Now that hurt!

Brunette decided to give BubbleButt a turn and handed her a switch. As TheMormon held the Brunette back, BubbleButt reached over his right side and slung her switch at my face.

WHHOOOOOOOOSSSSKKKKKKKKK

WHAAAAAAAAAPPPPPP

The switch barely caught me on the cheek, but felt like a blade gash.

It doesn't matter if someone swings a feather to my face. It's more than enough to piss me off. Suddenly my whole temperament went from derange Joker to an EXTREMELY PISSED OFF GOHAN.

Corrupter: "DO NOT FUCKING HIT ME!!! THAT SHIT HURTS!!!"

I puffed out my chest towards the Brunette that hit me in the face.

TheMormon: "Corrupter! YOU NEED TO APOLOGIZE! YOU'RE ACTING LIKE A CRAZY PERSON!"

Granted, I did give these strippers a lot of shit, but I wasn't the one who was flinging coat hangers at motherfuckers.

Corrupter: "THAT BITCH JUST HIT ME IN THE FUCKING FACE WITH A COAT HANGER! TELL HER TO QUIT SWINGING THAT SHIT!"

Brunette must have been getting off on how she was finally getting a reaction out of me, because she took another switch swat at me. Pain is the ultimate stimulator.

WHOOOOOOOOOOSSSSKKK! WHAAP!

I flared up at brunette again. I could see the fear in her eyes as if she was a cowgirl who had just pissed off a bull.

Corrupter: "OOOOOOOOUUUUHHHH."

TheMormon quickly put his back towards me and held out his hands to the sides while facing the strippers.

TheMormon: "I'M SO SORRY! HE'S ACTING LIKE A COMPLETE JACKASS!"

TheMormon turned around to face me.

SMACK!

TheMormon had brought his right open hand across the left side of my face. My head looked to the right in complete shock. A shock that was cooking into a blinding rage.

TheMormon: "CALM THE FUCK DOWN CORRUPTER!"

TheMormon must have thought after knowing him for only three months that he could just slap the shit out of me and TURN his back on me like I was his ho.

He might as well say "I'm Rick James bitch!" For what I'm about to do to him.

As soon as TheMormon turned around to face me, I threw a straight right to his nose.

WHOMP

Blood exploded from TheMormon's nostrils as he busted his ass on the concrete. The strippers made a run for their lives as I launched myself on top of him. TheGinger just stood there at first. I guess he was too shocked to even process the scene as my barrage of hammer fist continued to bloody TheMormon's Aryan face. My fist splashed blood from TheMormon's face to my clothes and into puddles all around us.

Once the light bulb went off in his head that I was refiguring TheMormon's face, TheGinger grabbed me by the neck with a strong choke hold. He pulled me off of TheMormon who was now clutching his broken nose with both hands. His pale face was flushed white as pools of blood leaked out of his hands to the concrete.

Corrupter: "Youccuuuuhhhhhh bluuuuuunkckk meessskk."

TheGinger: "If I let you go. Will you calm down?!"

Corrupter: "Fuussssskkkkkk yuuuuuscccckkkk."

He must have thought he was really choking me because TheGinger released his grip and I fell back to my ass.

TheGinger: "Ok, Corrupter, Calm down."

Corrupter: "(gasp for breath) FUCK ALLLLLLLLLL YOU!"

TheGinger: "Ok we got to go!"

TheGinger grabbed TheMormon and tore for the car as I scrambled to my feet. TheGinger and TheMormon already had the car running by the time I caught backseat door. I couldn't even get my foot inside before TheGinger hit the gas and peeled out.

(Blackout Fast-forward)

I woke up to find myself sitting on the curb of the gas station. Instead of being a smart person and walking maybe twenty feet away from the pools of TheMormon's blood, I just sat and started to call for a ride. It wasn't until a cop patroller pulled into the gas station that I thought it better to relocate myself.

Shit! Act normal.

The patrol car slowly rolled closer to me. I stood up and started casually to walk away from the puddles of blood. Since I was still drenched in TheMormon's blood the cop flashed his lights on me. After he parked, He stepped out of the car with his hands on his belt.

BoyScoutCop: "SIT ON THE CURB!"

I turned around and tried to look surprised.

Corrupter: "The fuck did I do?!"

Now BoyScoutCop started to rush me with his hand on his belt.

BoyScoutCop: "SIT ON THE CURB!"

I quickly plopped down on the curb facing the pools of blood. When BoyScoutCop finally reached me he grabbed me by the collar and slammed me face first into the blood stained rocks.

Faaaaawwwwkkkkk

BoyScoutCop held me down to my non-resistance as he called for back-up. As the three patrol cars pulled up they saw the bloody scene. They probably thought I ended someone because one by one they started to ask the same fucking question: "WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?"

Corrupter: "I...don't...REMEMBER!"

Once they breathalyzed me they started to believe my Alibi since I was clearly SHITFACED. But one Hispanic cop, whose semi-midget size made him look like he would be the perfect trick for the killer strippers, seemed to have a bad case of Napoleon complex. All the other cops there were upset to a degree, but this guy had it out for me. That fucker taunted me like he was the Mexican version cop of Bernie Mac in _Don't Be A Menace..._

NapoleonCop: "Oh, where you from? Flower Mound?! You think you can come into Dallas?! MY city?!

Corrupter: "........"

NapoleonCop: "You think you're a tough guy?!

The fuck is this?!

NapoleonCop: "ANSWER ME!!!"

I looked at the other cops and gave them a "Is this guy serious?" look. They returned with their own "You better fucking answer him" looks.

SHIT

I did my best not to piss this prick off, but my heart silently filled with hate for him. I'm sure once he read my license and saw that I was Hispanic he had to show out in front of his white buddies to prove that I was the embarrassment of our race.

I wanted to choke him while screaming: "YOU'RE AN EMBARRASSMENT!"

Instead, I gritted my teeth and mumbled: "No, sir."

MMMMMM MMMMMM MMMMMM

NapoleonCop picked up my phone off the ground and looked at the caller ID.

NapoleonCop: "Whose this?"

He showed me the caller ID on the phone.

Corrupter: "Oh! It's my girl, dude. She's worried as fuck. Can you just answer it and tell her where I'm at?"

NapoleonCop: "Yea, I'm not going to do that."

All the cops: "HAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHA."

Once this awesome conversation was over, the cops arrested me for public intoxication and took me to some drunk-tank under the 6-35 highway in Dallas.

When I woke up in The Tank disorientated, I went over the cell door to ask the prison guard what time it was. To which she responded with this:

BitchGuard: "Sir, I'm not even going to speak to you!"

The fuck?!

BitchGuard: "You ain't getting out of here! If it was up to me you'd be in here for weeks!"

I sat back on my mattress thinking that my prison guard might be a racist. One of my cell mates finally decided to come up to me and put my confusion to rest. He had the expression of a man who was still relieved that a tornado had passed, but was still cautious that it could return at any moment.

Cell-mate: "You don't remember anything do you?"

I was almost too afraid to ask.

Corrupter: "What?"

According to him:

When the cops put me in our cell, I started my first prison workout by beating on the towels in the bathroom with my fist. When I returned to the cell room, I asked for someone to help me break out of this bitch before returning to the bathroom to beat the towels again. There was also a door in the bathroom that was locked that I tried to kick through. When that didn't work I screamed: "LET ME OUT!" to the BitchGuard through the plastic window in our metal cell door. Since the BitchGuard told me to go to sleep I replied with "FUCK YOU! STUPID BITCH!" and "I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!" to speed the process up. This repeated for about an hour until, the guards put me into another cell. There I continued my plan of busting out of this bitch by picking the locks and standing on the toilet to try to break through the vents.

Cell-mate: "And then you were asking me how you got the blood on you...So I just stayed away from you."

* * *

Now that's Customer Service!

As told from: The Corrupter

Written by: Ron Voyage

When you work a job that requires any type of customer service, there is always that customer that EVERYONE hopes hell has a special place for.

The type of customer that when you see him coming, you and your co-workers haul ASS to make sure that his every need is met and is done in less than .000001 seconds.

You do this because you know that if every little desire is not done to the every detail and under the speed of light, then that fucker is going to make a scene so big that even the CEO of your company might get an email about it.

The fucked up thing is, from your supervisor to even the customer waiting patiently behind him, everyone thinks he's a prick, because even if you gave that fucker _5 star_ service he will always find SOMETHING to bitch about. The reason is because the ONLY fucking thing he has going for himself is coming into your job to tempt you to punch him in the face so you can get canned, because he's too much of a chicken shit to quit his own shitty job.

At the gym's diner that I work at with TheMormon and TheGinger, we had such a customer.

Like every morning he came to the diner in a rush. We sell this delicious homemade Blueberry Parfait that he orders every day and we happened to be fresh out one morning.

Corrupter: "We have Strawberry..."

CondescendingFuckHead: " _No!_ I'm asking for a _blueberry_. You guys should know I come here every morning. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday for a BLUEBERRY Parfait."

Corrupter: "All right sir, I can make you one."

CondescendingFuckHead flushed red as if he was Mark Cuban holding back a rant towards a shitty ref.

CondescendingFuckHead: "NO! I'M ALREADY RUNNING LATE. FORGET ABOUT IT. THANK YOU. BYE!"

What the fuck?!

Even after offering to make this Asshole his precious Blueberry Parfait, the fucker STILL bitched at me. Usually I could tolerate his shit but he went to complain to my boss about me just standing around, scratching my balls, and not making Blueberry Parfaits. This REALLY pissed me off so I decided to make sure Asshole got his special Parfait.

At the time I was fucking this Persian girl who also worked with me at the diner.

We both had started at the Diner at the same time, but she ended up getting promoted to being my supervisor, because I guess the general manager trusted her more. This was pretty baller because if I closed with her I could fuck her ANYWHERE in the diner without anyone finding out.

One night after we closed, I took her into the kitchen and started to fuck her doggy style over a prep table next to the fridge in the kitchen. I made sure to place a cup on the table before I strapped on a rubber and started digging the Persian out. As I was about to cum, I pulled out and pulled the rubber off. I reached over and snatched up the cup to squirt my load in at the last moment.

The Persian looked backed at me with a concern and confused look on her face.

Persian: "What the fuck are you doing?!"

I grinned at her while I caught my breath.

Corrupter: "...That motherfuckers Parfait."

Persian: "HAHAHAHAH, Shut up! No you're not! _Stop!_ "

She squinted at me and curled her lips.

Corrupter: "No. I'm fucking going to do it."

Persian: "No you're NOT!"

I walked over to the fridge and pulled out a gourmet parfait. I shook it a little so it could get smooth before dumping in my fresh batch of baby batter.

Persian: "STOP!"

I grabbed a couple of those precious blueberries CondescendingFuckHead loved so much and mixed them in at the top.

Persian: "Corrupter! You're not really going to do it are you?!"

Corrupter: "Bitch! We're both opening tomorrow! I'm going to fucking do it!"

Persian: "OH MY GOD!"

I placed CondescendingFuckHead's special Parfait in the back-up fruit section of the fridge just so it wouldn't get mixed up with the regular ones.

Sure enough, Asshole showed up bright and early that next morning. When he stepped to the counter he was already looking at the area we pull the parfaits from as if there better be a golden calf in there squirting out magical blueberry parfaits.

Corrupter: "Oh sir! Your Blueberry Parfait?"

CondescendingFuckHead nodded his head at me.

What a fucking schmuck.

Corrupter: "Oh I made one especially for you. I had it prepped because I knew you were coming."

CondescendingFuckHead: "Ok."

I went to the back, opened the fridge, and grabbed the jizz parfait. A quick shot of adrenaline pumped in my veins as I returned to CondescendingFuckHead. I matched his reluctant smug with an excited cheese on my face as I placed his Blogurt in front of him.

He looked at the cum custard and raised his eyebrows.

CondescendingFuckHead: "THANK YOU! Thank you, This looks GREAT!"

He picked up the Parfait and dug in his pocket

CondescendingFuckHead: "Now THIS is customer service."

He pulled out his debit card and handed it to me. I fought down a muscle spasm induced laughter, as I swiped his card for my Blueballs Parfait and handed it back to him.

CondescendingFuckHead: " _Thank_ you."

YOU FUCKING BITCH!

CondescendingFuckHead turned to the side of the utensils, grabbed a spoon, and started to walk out. Before he disappeared out the door, I caught a glimpse of him dipping his spoon in the Parfait and shoving it in his mouth.

Later on that day I took the Asshole's receipt and walked up to Persian with a grin.

Corrupter: "Sooooo. He got his Parfait."

Persian: "No you did not!"

I shoved the CondescendingFuckHead's receipt in her face.

Corrupter: "ONE BLUEBERRY PARFAIT!"

Persian: "HAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA."

* * *

The Puke Stories

Gag Order

(September 2012 Arlington, TX)

By: Brother Ron Voyage

Every guy should know how it feels to have a sugar mama. I'm sure most guys had a girl spend money on them before, but not many have had a sugar mama. When I say sugar mama, I'm not talking a girl buying you a Vegas bomb at the bar. I'm talking a girl taking you on an all-expense paid trip with her chips. I'm talking a girl on the verge of screaming at you when you reach into your wallet to buy yourself a beer. You only need to mention a need and she'll cut off a knee just to keep you satisfied.

The biggest reason why most men have no experience in this luxury is because they don't believe it's possible. Men have been CONDITIONED in this society to act as the only provider in a relationship even when the woman is perfectly capable of pitching in at least once in a while. For example, when a female says," it's on me tonight," we automatically might assume that the female has fucked up BAD. Unless it is our birthday, if a girl picks up the check a man might think that his entire block has ran the train on her the night before and now she's just paying off her guilty whore conscious.

Even though I've had women spend money on me before I met my sugar momma, I at least felt a little guilty about it. Well, after she got the tab of course.

Luckily, I had a unique childhood. After my dad's medical condition restricted him from working, my mom became the main bread winner of the house when I hit high school. Even before my dad became the "stay at home dad" and before he was making triple figures, my mom always had a job for most of my childhood. This conditioned me to think that no matter how beautiful a woman was, she had to earn her keep around here. Ron Voyage is no free ride!

I first met my sugar mama on a dating website around the time I graduated out of college. Thinking back on it, I was in prime condition to be a sugar baby. I was single, broke, jobless, and living at my parents place at the age of 23. Sounds like a Webster's definition of a sugar baby right?

There was a difference between this girl and the traditional sugar mama though. A mainstream sugar mama is usually a middle age cougar whose husband is either dead, non-existent, or is too busy to dick her down so she tricks all her money on the pool boy to clean her clam purse. My sugar mama was neither married nor in her middle age. She was actually a year younger than me and didn't inherent her money from some over-worked husband. When I met her she was working a job at a country club and a car dealership that was paying her at least $14 bucks an hour PLUS commission! With no kids, she had more money than she knew what to do with and I decided to help her out.

Now I would be lying to say I was only dating this girl because of her generosity. She was a Spaniard/white mix with some bad acne and no ass but she was one of the coolest chicks I ever met. I mean, how many girls do you know will buy you breakfast at Waffle House and then only be mad for only five minutes when you text her a pic of your atomic shit while you're on the John? In this post feministic hipster society, not too many. And I can't speak for every man but if you give me a decent looking girl with some double D's, tight sweet rain pussy, and a mouth that will absorb more seed serum than your own nutrag, you can call me a happy camper.

After about three days of not talking to my sugar mama for mentioning the word "date" when I asked if she wanted to hit a Karaoke bar, I called her on a Friday night to check up on her.

Ron: "What's up?"

SugaMama: "Nothing. What's up with you?" (sniff)

Ron: "You ok?

SugaMama: "Yea"

Ron: "I wanted to check up on you because I saw you deleted your Facebook. And I thought you might be trying to hurt yourself."

SugaMama: "Hahahaah, you're so sweet. What are you doing tonight?"

She started talking about whole bunch of nonsense until she mentioned something about her going to open a bottle of Rozay and Tequila shots. I don't know if you already read the twenty-third birthday party story, but me and Tequila is like uranium-235 and plutonium-239. You mix us together and you're going to get an explosion that could end a great war. There is something in Tequila that just put's fire in my veins. It gives me enough energy and dulls the senses enough for me to knock out some pink guts or knock out some punks all night long.

SugaMama: "I've never actually had tequila before. I got the salt and everything... I'm kinda scared."

Ron: "Hahahaha. This isn't Heroine or some acid trip. This is alcohol. Ok?"

SugaMama: "I know, but I just don't know what's going to happen."

Ron: "I'm coming over."

So I packed up my dog Q-tip, my over-night bag, and drove to her house. By the time I got there, she already had the Rozay chilling in ice. Passing her roommate's mom in the kitchen, we went up to her room to start the party. She opened the champagne while I prepared the tequila shots which were easy because they were those "peel top" tequila shots that came in a four pack. I placed a pack of margarita salt in her left hand and a tequila shot in her right hand.

Ron: "Alright you're going to pour the margarita salt in your mouth and immediately drink the shot in one gulp."

SugaMama: "I'm scared!"

She looked up at me with her bucked teeth and some cute chic monk eyes. Why was I feeling like the bad guy in a D.A.R.E commercial?

Ron: "Just do it!" And with that, we took our shots.

Besides doing the amateur sour puss face, she took the shot fairly well and we started to drink a little of the Rozay. I have to admit, I have no idea why Rick Ross prefers the stuff. It wasn't nasty, but if I was making fifty-grand a show, I would find something more impressive than champagne that tasted like a Big Red soda to piss out.

Once we took the next round of tequila shots, I started to feel a little tipsy. Now I'm sure there are some "drinkers" who are thinking I'm a pussy right now for even feeling a little buzz from two 40 proof silver tequila shots and two glasses of cheap champagne. Here's a news flash fuckers: When you're out in the real world where you're working a nine to five job five days a week to pay bills AND ten-grand in student loans instead of drinking yourself into a stupor every night, you tend to have lower alcohol tolerance, 'kay?

My sugar mama is a living testament to this. I might have been really buzzed, but after those two tequila shots SugaMama was SHITFACED. She went from curious little school girl sipper to sloshed sorority slut who was inhaling all of the champagne in less than FIVE minutes. I could barely finish my glass before she was pulling me on top of her.

After cutting all the lights off, we started to make out like we were trying to see if our tongues could touch each other's tonsils. Tequila awakened inside my veins like molten magma. I tore off our clothes and got to business. Somehow some heavy metal music came on, and we started to fuck like a pack of ravaged dogs.

Instead of coughing and sputtering when I strangled her in missionary, she spat at me and goaded me to fuck her harder. I flipped her over and slapped each cheek of that pan ass like it was late with my rent. Once I was inside her again, I grabbed a fist full of her black hair and rammed her pan ass with the ferocity of a thousand knights trying to force their way into a Kingdom wall with a battling ram.

SugaMama: "Oooooo"

Ron: "Ride this fucking dick!"

She straddled me and rode me while those magnificent double D's crashed into my chest and face like an asteroid shower on the moon surface. Suddenly I was feeling way too much wetness than I usually feel when fucking with a condom.

Ron: "Wait! I think the condom broke."

I pulled out to examine my dick to see if the magnum had disappeared. Sure enough, the condom was gone! I searched her sheets through the dark until my fingers found latex and bodily fluids. I strapped the condom back on and told her to get on her stomach. Once I mounted myself on top of her and I started thrusting myself in her as hard as I could. No matter how hard I fucked her I didn't slow down not once. My dick dug in her so hard you would have thought I was frack drilling for oil shale.

FUCK I love tequila!!!

The nut was finally making its way to the tip of my dick, and I gave her my signal.

Ron: "I'm about to cum! TURN OVER!!"

As she flipped over, I stood up and dived bombed my manhood missile right into her open mouth like usual protocol. My head rested in ecstasy on her night stand as hot baby batter injected into her jibs. I felt her sucking down the semen like a usual champ when I felt something wrong. Then I started to feel some pressure on my dick. The children chug was too much for her.

She actually started to try and blow my cum back into my dick!

In mid orgasm, I pulled out of her mouth which sent a vile combination of puke, sperm, and champagne on her face, tits, and my shaft.

SugaMama: ""Ah chink ah chrew up." As she gasped for breathe while my kids burned in pools of bile that plastered her face.

Ron: "You...just threw up...on my dick?"

Now most guys would have been so disgusted and shock that they would have burned their clothes in a garbage can while taking a thorough holy bath. Me? I did what I always do when I'm shocked and disgusted:

Ron: "HAHAHAHAAHHAHAAHAHAHAHA, WHAT THE FUCK?!!"

I was halfway curled into a post-coital position crying my eyes out from laughing too hard as she stumbled and pulled me into her bathroom to wash her food chunks and man gravy off our bodies. After turning on her shower, she tried to pull me into the shower with her, but I was still trying to make sense of what happened.

SugaMama: "Come in the shower, baby I need you." She said as she slipped on tub tile.

If I hadn't had caught her she would have split her wig.

Ron: "Hahaha. No.. I already took a shower "

SugaMama: "Please PLEASE!"

Once the hot mess got done drying off, I carried her into bed. While I laid there in a daze she kept babbling sweet drunken whore hymns in my ear.

SugaMama: "I really want you to fuck me again."

Ron: "Well I don't have another condom."

SugaMama: "YOU DON'T HAVE ANOTHER CONDOM?! WHY WOULDN'T YOU BRING MORE?!"

Ron: "I'm sorry, but stomach acid is making my dick soft right now."

SugaMama: "I'm sorry, but you fuck me so good."

She was quiet for maybe a second before shocking me the second time of the evening.

SugaMama: "Have you ever done that with a chick?"

I turned over and looked at her as if she just asked me if she could have my abortion. Her voice sounded as though she was looking for a hopeful, "no" as if she was asking if she had broken a new Guinness's World Record. Only it was with my Dick.

Ron: "Hahaha, no you were my first."

SugaMama: "YAYY! I'm so excited right now! Like I'm seriously happy!

* * *

Challenge of the month: The "Simba":

Next time you are about to bust your nut. Pull out and bust it on the girl's forehead. Take your dick and smear some baby batter across her head and say: "SIMBA!"

* * *

FourLokos Falls!

(Fall 2009 Denton, TX)

By: Ron Voyage

The funny thing about nicknames that you get in college is that you are LUCKY if you're able to choose it. A nickname is usually like consent. It is given to you by the people. People use it to identify you with some personal trait, skill, or some humiliating event that scars you for life. The worst part about being named over a humiliating event that scarred you for life is that there's ALWAYS someone who doesn't know the story about how you got the name "Shit-tongue" or "Cheeto-puss." So your asshole friends get the pleasure of bringing them up to speed while you relive the humiliation that you've spent a car note trying to kill with Jaeger bombs. By now I'm sure you fuckers can guess which way I got my nickname "Am-bi" but the best part of the story is in the details.

During my first year at UNT, I was playing beer pong with my homeboy Corrupter and his then girlfriend Ashley at my apartment complex on a Friday night. Since it was only us three and I like pussy too, I suggested we find a party in my apartment complex. Back in those days, it didn't take much effort to find a party in Denton. You could just follow the loud Dallas jig music to find a drunken orgy that had free drink and a slew of slors.

We decided to check-out my apartment's clubhouse to see if there were people in there. We walked in to find a group of five women with full boxes of Domino's pizza. They all looked bored and seemed to light up at the sight of penis approaching. One of them was a cute black girl who flashed me some pearly whites and a pair of eyes that looked like my dog's when he wants some scraps of my Chick-Fil-A. After we made some introductions, I started to feast on their Italian pies while they blabbered about why they were there. I don't remember what they said really, because I was too busy stuffing my face, but I think they said something about spreading the word about their psychology club. After eating a half of a pizza by myself, Corrupter and I played a game of ping pong while the girls watched. After Corrupter couldn't handle any more balls of fury, I turned to the black chick and asked if her and her friends wanted to come back to my apartment to hang out. She looked like as if I just made her last wish come true before she would succumb to cancer, but her cock-blocking friends weren't having it, so we bid them adieu in search for easier targets. We didn't have to walk more than five steps from the clubhouse before hearing a pounding bass that seemed to come directly across from my building.

Ron: "I think Morgan is having a party."

Corrupter: "Dude, let's go!"

Morgan, Sherilyn, and LC were the wildest trio of white girls you could meet. With one being more country than the other, the three of them could out-drink, out-dance, and out-laugh any southern bell this side of the Mississippi. I had met them through a guy who worked at my apartment complex and we had been through some great times since then. The first night we hung out I got so shit-faced that I passed out on their apartment's balcony while attempting to climb their first floor railing and WALK all the way to Fry street to meet up with some black chick at a hookah bar. These girls partied so hard that I would often have to take breaks from them just to keep from getting burnt out. I just couldn't keep up with these girls! I could have filmed them, named the footage _Southern Belles Gone Wild_ , and sold it to Joe Francis for millions!

We knocked on their door until Sherilyn let us in and before I could drop my trademark "What's good?" greeting, Morgan points at me from across her beer pong table in the kitchen and screams out in the biggest east Texan hill-billy twang you ever did hear.

Morgan: "RONNNN! LINE YOUR ASS UP FO FLIP-CUP!"

I had to with-strain the Toby in me that wanted to take off his hat, stare at his feet, and say, "Yessim, Ma'am!" before positioning myself across the table from her.

Feel free to skip this paragraph if you already know how to play Flip-Cup. For those who don't know, you're welcome for making your life this much _________ better. Flip-cup consists of two even teams on each side of a table. Each team has an anchor on one side of the table. Everyone at the table has a cup in front of them that is filled with a small amount of an alcoholic beverage. Each player must chug the alcohol in their cup and flip their cup on its rim like a relay race. Whichever team has all of the drinks chugged and cups flipped first wins.

Now usually, normal people play this game with beer. But the crazy southern belles like Morgan and Sherliyn play with Four Loko. Keep in mind, this is 2009. This is not the pussy malt drink Four Loko that you can get from any gas station today. We're talking the original "black-out in a can" Four Loko. We're talking that carbonated caffeine, taurine, guarana, and 12 percent alcohol Four Loko. We're talking that banned from college campuses AND several states Four Loko. Before I was introduced to this devil piss, I didn't really understand how people could black-out or how someone could even throw up from drinking. Since I had been drunk before and none of these things happened to me, I had come to think of myself as quite the drinker. Tonight, Four Loko would be my great humbler.

By the time we had got to the seventh game, I could barely chug the carbonated concoction without gagging. Even though I was clearly smashed, I thought I had the perfect buzz for the party that was two floors above Morgan's and Sherilyn's apartment that everyone was telling me about.

Sherilyn: "Ron! It's going to be my birthday at midnight!"

She walked up to me to give me a look that looked like I was nominated as "Birthday cock-supplier" for the night. She was a BAD blonde. A little on the skinny side, but she had light blue eyes, small but proportionate breast, and perfect white teeth. She had a quirky sexiness to her that made you think she would go bat-shit on a dick if given the opportunity.

Ron: "Congrats! At midnight we are going to have a round of birthday shots then."

I flashed a drunken smirk and gave her a hug before heading up stairs to see what type of tail the party upstairs was featuring. The party was packed and hot, so I headed to the balcony for some fresh air. I recognized a guy I knew who had some intel on this hot Native American chick I really wanted to bang.

Ron: "Yea bro, Lisa is looking mad sexy tonight."

Dude: "Yea she is..."

Honestly, I don't remember who I was talking to or what the conversation was about, because soon it all started to spin. My stomach started to gurgle like a witch's caldron with Domino Pizza grease and Ova-berry Four Loko. Before I could throw my mouth over my face, I lurched over the balcony.

Ron: "HHEEEWWWWWWLLLLLLLLLLLLLL."

A chunky/garlic/carbonated waterfall spewed from my mouth right into Sherilyn's open mouth at the balcony below. She had been leaning on her balcony and looking up at the commotion when my birthday bile shot landed DIRECTLY in her mouth. She ran inside screaming before I could sputter out happy birthday, so I just passed out right there on the balcony with purplish pizza chunks still foaming from my mouth. Someone called two of the roommates that lived at the apartment that hosted the party to drag me off the balcony and all the way to my apartment. They threw me in my bathroom before going back to the party. I guess they wanted to make sure I had a place to puke more. My roommate came home to find a ghastly sight in the bathroom we had both shared. I was still passed out face down on the wooden floor with chunks of pepperoni, cheese, and a purple bile dried to my shirt. My whole body convulsed on the wooden floor like a zombie on _The Walking Dead_ who still hadn't had his brains blown out. My roommate immediately woke me up and asked if I needed an ambulance. I whimpered a weak "yes" and rolled back over in my zombie pile to go back into my Four Loko induced coma.

My next clear memory from since the balcony was waking up on my sofa in my apartment's living room. I was so shit-housed and dehydrated that I couldn't even move my entire body. The only thing I could manage to do was swivel my head a little to meet the eight eyes that had revived me from my Four Loko trance. When I realized who those eight eyes belonged too I became even more paralyzed. I would have been happier to see a hungry giant spider than four concerned cops and paramedics. They were all squatting in front of my couch looking at me like some terminal patient. Before I could say, "WHAT THE FUCK??!" One of them speaks up.

One medic asked: "Do you know your name son?"

Ron: "It's..Ronnn." I slurred out.

Cop: "What's your social?"

Ron: CENSORED (You wish I was that honest! I did get it right when the cop checked it out though)

Cop: "Wow, he actually got it right." As he giggled to the other cops.

Another cop wasn't as impressed.

Other Cop: "Who is the president of the United States?"

Ron: "FUCKING GEORGE BUSH!" I said belligerently as I leaned to my side struggling to stay conscious.

Everyone in the room busted out laughing.

Now they're just fucking with me. Fuckers.

The medics and the cops eventually asked enough dumb questions to realize I was probably just going to wake up in the morning with my first hateful hangover. They told him to make sure he changed my diet from gurgling carbonated firewater to regular H2O for the rest of the night before leaving. After my roommate dragged me to my room, he asked me if I needed anything before he passed out.

I simply said "water" and he left to bring back a plastic cup full of water. As soon as the pure water hit my throat my stomach sent a fresh batch of pizza Loko back-wash back into the cup. I was so dehydrated didn't even stop drinking it once I smelled the watered down garlic.

The Roommate: "That's disgusting. Goodnight."

From that day fourth, I was forever dubbed the "guy who had an ambulance outside his apartment building" or "Ambi" for short.

* * *

Sweet Nothings: The Kids Were Good Today!

Girl: (starts cleaning her sheets after sex.)

Ron: What are you doing!? I want to roll around in that!!

Girl: No you won't! You won't even kiss me after I suck you up!

Ron: That's because I don't ever want to know what my kids taste like!

Girl: You taste really sweet! The kids were good today!

* * *

The Reverse Human Centipede

(January 2011 Denton TX)

By: Brother Ron Voyage

Mankind has come up with some amazing inventions to make life less sucky. The light bulb. The wheel. And then there's _Everclear_. Not only is Everclear 95.6 percent alcohol, but the 1979 Guinness World Records listed it as the "most alcoholic drink." Which means, every time you sip this shit you are only 4.4 percent away from death! I still shudder every time I look at that label. The Surgeon General should just change the name of the label to "XXX" and put WARNING: DRINK AT OWN RISK. You can tell how much the host of a party drinks if they use that stuff for the trash-can punch, which is why me and my friends used it for my homeboy's, The Corrupter's, 21st B-day party.

When I was going to UNT, my brother and I's apartment had garnered a reputation of the place where all our high-school friends could throw their birthday parties. This was because most of them still lived with their parents and didn't feel like being chaperoned while they got hammered. Whenever my brother and I would throw one of these parties, we had a tradition of concocting a new type of alcoholic beverage that would have men begging for the recipe and women begging for the dick. So when our friend Corrupter was finally turning 21 he wanted to do it in the classic Corrupter fashion: Getting RETARDED drunk and either pissing every girl off at the party, plowing every girl at the party, or both.

Now I've been around a lot of heavy drinkers and I have never met ANYONE who could drink my homey Corrupter under the table. I've seen this guy binge drink buddles of handles and kegs on a nightly occasion. So when he went to go get the alcohol for the party, guess what main ingredient he got? You guessed it: Everclear.

Ryan and I mixed the liquid crack with six liters of cranberry juice and two liters of cherry limeade in our two Home Depot coolers. We deemed our new potion the "Ron Burgundy" and got the apartment ready for the Whore Island that was about to land upon us.

That night, our friends came in by the buddles bringing brew, hors, and hookah. As soon as a person entered the apartment they only needed to stop by to see "Ron Burgundy" only twice to get ripped. By the time midnight came around, our "Ron Burgundy" had our apartment looking like a scene out of _The Walking Dead_.

I was roasted by the time my pussy for the night had arrived. Dressed in a Native American satchel and some brown heels, a tiny, brown skinned Hispanic girl strolled in with her plump, blond roommate. I had invited the Mexican Pocahontas because I had heard from one of my homeboys how much of a tomcat she was in the sack. As part of my resolution, I had pledged to dick down not only a different girl every month, but a different race of a girl that I had never sexed in the past. Up to that point I had never smashed a Hispanic chick and I thought this would be my night.

Pocahontas: "RON! HEY, this is my roommate!"

Like I always do when meeting women, I hugged the plump roommate first before hugging the pussy supply. As I hugged Pocahontas, she kissed my neck. I immediately thought of Dbo's post on facebook that he tagged me in of SpongeBob's mouth smirking and eye's squinting while the words "she wants the dick" hovered above his head.

I took Pocahontas and Plump to the jugs of Ron Burgundy to get them a drink. Both of their faces lit up once they tasted my magical elixir.

Pocahontas: "Mmmm, it's good Ron! What's in it?"

By the way she looked at me I could have sworn she was referring to the bulge in my jeans.

Ron: "If I told you I'd have to kill you."

Pocahontas: "Hahahahahha."

Ron: "Let's go smoke some hookah!"

Pocahontas: "Ok!"

With that, I gave them each an arm and led them to my room, which we made into a little VIP hookah section. After introducing the girls to everyone in the room, we got situated in the rotation of the puff-puff pass. Once it got to me, I took a hit and handed it to Pocahontas. With the confused look on her face you would think she was trying to decide if she was supposed to stick it her ass or her nose.

Pocahontas: "Ron...I've never done this before."

Ron: "Here I'll help you out. When I blow in your mouth, suck in the smoke and blow it out."

I took the hookah pipe from her, took a big hit, put my lips to hers, and blew out the smoke. She did her best to make a vacuum but most of the smoke slipped past her tiny lips as we started to make out in front of everybody.

After amazing her with my bond-like wittiness, the alcohol really started to take an affected on her small 5'3" frame. She started to sway and fall over everyone at the party. Eventually she fell into me one too many times.

Pocahontas: "Ron! Do you have any place where I could lay down?"

She gave me the damsel in DICKstress look. Look like this is a job for Batman and Slobbin to take down this PokeHer.

I noticed that Pocahontas' plump roommate was talking to some poor desperate bastard in the corner of the party. This would be my last chance to fulfill my resolution without the grenade blowing it for me.

Ron: "Yea, you can rest in here". I slurred out.

I remembered my brother locking the door to his room so I took Pocahontas in there and guided her to the bed. Once we got under the covers, I started to make out with her while moving my hands up her skirt. She started to moan in drunken whore language when my fingers started to message her pink tank hole.

Pocahontas: "Ron! I...I can't."

The poor girl was so drunk she couldn't even look at me as she gave me blue balls.

Ron: "What's wrong?"

Pocahontas: "I feel sick. I think I need to throw up." As she clasped her hand over her mouth.

Not wanting to hear my brother bitch about puke on his bed in the morning, I lifted her up in my arms and started to carry her over the six feet to Ryan's bathroom door. We just got past the bathroom door sill and....

Pocahontas: "HUUUUUUUUUGHHHHHHH!"

Too late. Pocahontas splattered a thick line of Ron Burgundy chunks over the hinges of door to the wall next to the toilet. I stood her on her heels, grabbed a fistful her smooth black hair, and bent her over the toilet before the second coming of bile.

Pocahontas: "HUUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHHH....HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGHHHHHHHH!"

The girl's stomach spasms were so severe that I had to hold her upright from falling so that the puke would still go in the toilet. Then something very strange happened that not even Sigmund Freud's Psycho-sexuality could explain.

As I bent her over the toilet while she violently hurled, I glanced over in the mirror of the bathroom over the sink. I saw me behind her, with my hands on her smooth brown hips, and her ass whacking the bulge of my jeans as she swayed in front of the toilet. There was something about the way her puking moans sounded, the sensuality of the accidental dry humping, and the liquid death in my liver that made me feel like Peter North in some sick twisted porn flick. It was time to make my move.

While Pocahontas grasped the toilet to catch a breather from turning her insides out, I reached under her tomahawk skirt. I pulled down her black panties, got on my knees, and thrusted my tongue on her clit.

Pocahontas: "OOOOOOOO...Oh Ron!"

My lips started to suck on her pussy lips as my hands dug into her ass cheeks. Her hands grasped the white porcelain seat to keep her from falling over as she hurled again.

Pocahontas: "HUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!"

Between those bronze legs I saw more burgundy bile splash inside the toilet, but for some reason it was making me more hot. I started to use the tip of my nose and tongue to fuck her clam pouch. Me and my Latin Pocahontas had become the reverse human centipede.

Pocahontas: "Mmmmmm...Ron. HHUUUUUUUUGHHH." In her sexy Mexican accent.

I was as hard as a Soviet missile now. My tongue spelled out its name over and over on that pussy as her mouth piece disposed of more toxins. I was just about to stick it in when I heard a knock on the bedroom door.

Plump: "(Insert real girl name here)! Are you ok?!"

Fuck! The grenade's timer went off. I pulled up Pocahontas's panties and cleaned her up a bit before opening the bedroom door to find her roommate there with a smile on her face surprisingly.

Plump: "HEY! Is she ok?!!

Ron: "Yea, she's just a little tired."

_And completely toasted since my right arm was the only thing keeping Pocahontas from kissing the wooden floor_.

Plump: "Well, I'm going to go home. Do you want me to pick you up in the morning? You know you have to wake up early."

Pocahontas: "Yea. Pick me up later. I'll make sure Ron will have me up by then."

Ron: "Yea, I'll set an alarm."

Plump: "Ok. Well, be safe." And with that Plump left us alone.

I would love to tell you that I poked Pocahontas into the next tribe that night, but it would be a lie. We woke up the next day naked with my alarm clock going off and she left before we could do anything. But I eventually flipped her many times after that point.

When she left, my friends and I had roll call of who did what and with who in my living room. Turns out Corrupter had gotten a B-day BJ from a curly haired Tdubber girl with a fat ass in the closet sized laundry room.

Ron: "Was that it? No Birthday sex?"

Corrupter: "Naw, bro, but it's all good. What went down with you and Pocahontas?

I then relayed the whole party of how I and Pocahontas became the reverse human centipede. They all bursted into laughter.

Corrupter: "HAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAAHAAHAHA."

He was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes while curled into the fetal position.

Corrupter: "Well as long as you made her pussy feel good."

* * *

Q PHI Q Policy violation: Lying on your Dick

If you are **EVER FOUND** lying on your dick (telling fabricated stories of debauchery in hopes gaining approval or filling your quota) you will be held in **CONTEMPT OF CUNT** and therefore be escorted from warmth of our brotherhood.

Missing your quota or not having a hilarious story to share with your brothers is redeemable (make it up next month!) but being a **LIAR** is not. Our story is based off **TRUTH**. Only **LAMES** lie on their dick and this is _NO_ place for lames!

THIS MESSAGE IS PROUDLY SPONSORED BY THE QUOTA PHI QUOTA

* * *

It's a Secret Society. All we ask is Lust

By: Brother Ron Voyage

"You know son, I love your mother more than anything, but if I could do it all again...I would have took some time to find myself more before I had settled down."

My Dad stared off in space as the last words of his sentence slipped from his lips. He looked as though he was playing out a collage of "what-ifs" in his head that could have end up as "What-a-nights".

I looked at him in amazement. In all of his 25 years of marriage, I had never even seen him look at another woman. He would always tell me story after story about how the single life was lonely, overrated, dangerous, and even a sign of homosexuality.

Dad: "If a man isn't married by the time he is 30, he's most likely gay."

And here he was saying that he had wished that he had played the field more before getting married.

Ron: "Well...You met The One at an early age Dad."

Dad: "Yea..."

As if the responsible Dad came on cue he snapped out of his hypnosis of reflection to give his trademark reassuring father figure smile.

Dad: "You're right...I did."

Personally, I wouldn't have him do it any differently. His decision to get married at the age of twenty-three led to me and my brother being born into a loving family with the mother and the father HAPPILY together. In a country with a divorce rate of 50% and barely half adults over the age of eighteen being married anyway, we were an anomaly. No one needed to tell me how lucky I was to have the loving father figure like my dad who put every little fantasy aside for his wife and kids.

All the same, my suspicions were correct all along. Every major hard decision, whether right or wrong, comes with regrets.

It's all a matter of which ones you can live with. No matter how noble a sacrifice is, a person's sacrificed dreams will always be mourned even if done in secrecy.

I asked myself many times why I had chosen the Quota over the wife, 1 1/2 kids and a white picket fence. I used to think that it was because I hadn't yet found the right one to make that nightmare bearable. But once I was mature enough to realize that a happy marriage to the mother of your seeds gave them the best chance to blossom, it seemed worth it to me.

The marriage that my parents had was a special one that I would hope to achieve one day, but I had to become the man I wanted to be first, before I could raise a son to be like me and daughter to love a man like me.

I don't want an unfulfilled fantasy or forgotten dream to rear its ugly head in my marriage and lead me to cheat on my future wife. Besides communication issues, sexual infidelity is the leading cause of divorce. So many marriages and relationships have been ruined from a spouse who cheated.

I wanted to be ready when temptation came to tease me so I could laugh in its face and say, "Sorry bitch! Been there, done that many times".

And that's why The Quota is necessary:

It encourages you experience those desires before they become demons that fuck up any type of long term relationship you want to work.

It's not about the **number** of women's walls that we have run through; it's the **experiences** that have come from those sugar walls. These **movies** will always be on queue to play again in our heads during those board meetings, baby showers, or death beds.

Granted, The Quota is not for every man. It takes a lot of time, rejection, and balls to live like this.

If you want to pledge to this band of brothers to smash/slam/fornicate with twelve different women in one year and share your amusing tales of the twat to reserve your place in the Hall of Fame of hook ups, then email me at quotaphiquota@gmail.com.

Once you have successfully pledged you will have instant access to our monthly challenges, new policies, and brand new Hall of hook up stories. All we ask is that you stay true to our policies and conceal our identities just like we would for you. Remember:

It's a Secret Society. All we ask is Lust!

* * *

Honorable Mentions

Thank you to Tucker Max for making it impossible for me to put down a book again.

Thank you to all my Brothers who looked out after me and taught me how to live like a true Alpha Male. This is dedicated to you.

And if you are unfortunate enough to stumble across this, Mom and Dad. Thanks for getting me this far. I'll take it from here.

# # #
