One night I was in bed with a good frenabenafits( see my dictionary), having a good gay ole time. I haven’t seen this person in awhile so there was a lot of talk and a lot of silence (mixed in with the occasionally gasp-on my part) when something mortifying happened. I leapt on his penis and then I heard a really loud fart coming from down there! From me!!! I couldn’t believe it! I personally have never seen a black woman blush before, but that was until I looked at the mirror over the bed! And you know what he did? He laughed (which explains why he was sooo very temporary in my life in the first place)! What was worse is that it kept on happening!Going up the penis *fart*. Going down the penis *fart*. Coming off the penis *smack and then fart*. Trying slowly to go back on the penis *fart and put-put-puttering*. I almost gave up, but his penis looked so promising….
I then thought to myself, “why not try different positions, if he was game?” So I tried to spoon, *fart*, then I tried on the chair, *fart*. Standing up holding the shower curtain, slide, and then *fart*!Maybe it wasn’t really me, but the condom? I mean it’s made of rubber, no?? And when I try to pour myself into my leather pants (George Micheal inspired me at one point) sometimes I heard noises too.
Oh well, I thought to myself, I might as well just slide with the punches. And so I did.
Afterwards, as he slept, I thought of how silly I was being. I mean I was comfortable enough with myself to be able to do a number four in the presence of any man, but why not this?
I emailed my cousins and asked them if their coco ever farted. I was surprised to know that they too suffered the same predicament. Brad (not her real name) told me that although initially embarrassing, it happened all the time and just to laugh it off.
Tom (his real name) said not to worry it happens to his boyfriend all the time while tending to his asshole. I told him that doesn’t count cause the sound could be taken as an actually fart. Tom did say that it sometimes was a fart, but his fart smells like potpourri and anyways so as long as his friend don’t say anything he just doesn’t worry about it. And Dexter, my second favorite cousin (not her real name), told me that there was even a name for it-queef.
Ah, queef. It has a peculiar ring to it. So the sound is called queff, so the art of it would be called queefing and that would make me then a queefer.
Mmn …inneresting.
So I guess I am partly defeated. Queefing, just like, your sister farting, cannot be helped. And can come on at any moment. So from now on I will use a scented douche, cause like my cousin Tom, I want everything to come up (and out) roses.
And to sign off possums -my mother always told me that not only, does the crazy people have the best pills, but you only have three friends in the world-your pocket, God and your front. So, keep your pocket full, pray to God for guidance and take care of your front before it takes care of you!
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What can I say about this position numero 4 according to by well-used Handbook of 101 positions for the not so faint at heart. As romantic as it looks in the movies, it is over-rated!! You have to have somewhat thin thighs and all the bodily smells (mind you, darling, obviously not from mois) trail up into the nostrils. It is nice to have that face interaction and tings. You can play with each other knobbly bits, but mind you a few minutes of this someone is in for some serious leg cramps.
Heartbroken, Lucresia Linton decided to turn to the internet. She believes that if God gives you lemons, then you must order your very rude child to make you a pitcher of lemonade and go find an audience elsewhere!
