Like this trick I got holed up in my room right now. Shakeeta’s her name; a brown-skinned cutie from Irvington—wit’ a lil’ waist and one hundred and forty pounds of ass ’n titties. And, of course, she’s a ho I met offa Myspace. We been fuckin’ off and on for ’bout three months now, and she’s already sucked down my dick and swallowed my nut ’bout eight times. And I’ve fucked her ’bout three. Now, she’s actin’ like she’s in love wit’ a muhfucka. But tonight’s the first time I’m givin’ her this tongue treatment. And the only reason she’s gettin’ it now is ’cause she laced a muhfucka wit’ four pairs of 7 For All Mankind jeans and two pair of Gucci loafers for my birthday. Well, it ain’t my actual born day, but she doesn’t know that shit. Yo, relax. Sit tight. I’ll explain later.

Shit, hol’ up…let me introduce myself to ya’ll, first, before I start suckin’ the nut outta this broad’s fuck-box. Aiight, check it. I’ma six-foot-four, 215-pound—lean and solid, for the record— slightly bow-legged cat with dark-brown eyes, thick full lips, a chiseled chest, strong muscular back, and big hands. My government name is Alexander Maples. But my mans ’n ’em call me Alley Cat, ’cause a nigga like me is always prowlin’ ’round for some new pussy. However, on some real shit, I shoulda been named Hershey ’cause I’ma dark-chocolate nigga that melts in ya mouth and all up in ya guts. Yeah, that’s right. I’m ya sweetest, most dangerous addiction. And I’m here to feed ya cravin’s—one stroke, one slurp, at a muthafuckin’ time.

So I’ma let you know from the gate. I’m the type a cat who loves to fuck—all day, e’eryday. Just like the U.S.