Previously titled I Got Some Dick Today

Thanks to you all for making my 2 book autobiography The King of Erotica 7 PHAROAH and The King of Erotica 8 LORD JENNINGS my 6th and 7th Barnes and Noble.com Top 100 Bestseller. I appreciate you guys so much. I now have ten books published, and more to come this year.


Dapharoah69
The King of Erotica

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Chapter 1:

I’m heartbroken. So heartbroken I didn't know if I was coming, cumming or goddamn going ugh!

Can’t believe it happened again. Every time I meet the One he turns into the One who killed it for everyone else. Another failed relationship gone down the tubes, which was embarrassing as hell because I was always clowing my friends about not keeping successful relationship and I couldn't and didn't know how to keep a man myself.

Why were black men so whorish and so disloyal? Has 400 years of oppression and slavery distorted their mentality?

Do they always must have what they can't have?

Do we really hate each other to the point where we can't love each other?

He was about five feet 5, thuggish with those rasta thick dreads that melted your heart. But the way he walked around my crib farting like it's nothing turned me off. He was a real niggah in every sense of the word.

He was a go-getter, determined and held a good job.

He loved wearing sagging jeans and unlaced boots with a skull cap sitting like so on his head, sort of slanted, like the rapper T.I. wore his hats. He had to tie his dreads down to wear hats, which always baffled me because when we wore hats he hardly looked me in the face when we interacted with each other.

He had a gorgeous smile and a fantastic d***k.

My God.

The way his 11 inch cut caramel d***k filled me up had me cumming without touching myself. The way he slapped my booty cheeks and growled in my ear and buried his face between my chin and neck every time he had to cum set me on fire...I love when he pounded my a***e, growling that it felt better than p***y. He would shudder and moan so sensually and it turned me the hell on and he would pull out leave me sweating and panting in the doggy style and make me push his nut from my bussy while slapping my ass calling me all sorts of dirty b***hes and he would suck it up and it would gross me out but one look in his eyes made me kiss him and swallow my juices with him.

His sex game was so up to par my knees buckled into my p***y at the very thought of him like I was a Vietnam Vet remembering a 70's war in 2010.

Now I was missing him.

Now I wanted him back.

He was my lover. My all. My addiction. I put my all into a man that only wanted me as an option, not a priority.

Maybe I just hated being alone. Maybe him leaving reminded me that I was the kinda niggah that had to have a man, that had to be in a relationship, that had to have someone to cuddle with, that had to have someone telling me I'm handsome and beautiful and now it was sucking the life outta me like I was a pair of balls and life was a powerful nut he used to wipe on my face, slapping that fat d***k on my tongue and nose...

Oh, God. The pulse in my p***y was activated remembering. Him.

Devastated , I looked at my watch I realize that a lot of time has gone by since we broke up. An hour to be exact. An hour that felt like ten goddamn years. I wanted to vomit imagining another bottom trick enjoying the comfort and aggression of Grade A D***k.

His clothing and shoes are still neatly in the closet. I situated his attire to my specifications, which caused a rift in our relationship. He liked to be sloppy and leave his beer cans where he finished them, even though he didn't live with me. He had his own crib he never invited me too, and was the type of Niggah that loved and had to run the ship. Had to tell his Bottom what to do. Cook to feed him, clean to please him that suck and f***k him to sleep the way a mother burps a newborn.

He got Crazy in Psycho Ville when he got drunk. But I never tripped because Drunk D***k was the Best D***k and lasted all night long. I just hated waking up covered with his puke. I hated it with a passion. I never said anything about it, because he got an attitude and became stubborn and unresponsive.

One of the reasons we didn't make it was because of his homeboys that flocked to my goddamn crib during game days. He always invited his boys over, even when we were supposed to be spending quality time.

And they ate two months worth of grocery in twenty minutes while watching ESPN or the NFL Draft and I got tired of my light and water bill going up because ungrateful thugs were in my home turning it into the One Stop Piss
Stop and neither one of the muthaf***kahs forked over any kind of cash, nor said thank you for eating up my s***t. Piss all over the toilet seat and floors and my man Johnson, well ex man, made me clean it up, saying his boys were "Guests."

I was always behind him, cleaning and b***hing becasue the more I b***hed, the longer and deeper he'd f***k me when we made up adn that's when he got his revenge. When I was cumming and shivering riding his thick pole.

At first he loved someone that cleaned behind him but my constant nagging broke him down. DL men hated nagging, reminded them too much of a woman and a man was with a man for obvious reasons. Felt too much like a marriage to him and he already said there would be a cold day in hell before he married me or a man period. It hurt to hear, but I was a d***k sick b***h and I didn't wanna push him away so I transitioned inside his f***ked views.

Plus I walked in on him sitting on my toilet taking a s***t (with the door open, he got off on me smeeling that foul s***t WTF!) talking to his ex baby mama on the phone, with tears falling down his face telling me he was using my money to pay his child support, and that he enjoyed their love making session (in my bed).

He actually f***ked the pop tart on my one thousand thread count sheets while I worked.

I always wondered why he washed the sheets and nothing else.

Now I knew.

I had to go. Plus the Hoe's child ain't even his son. He just called the boy his son becasue the boy's dady doing life without for armed robbery and rape. He raped her ass and that's how that baby was conceived, with his big headed ass.

But how do I get over him when I loved him so much. It’s been twenty minutes since I asked him to leave and he did, calling me every name in the book.

That I was a b***h.

That my ass wasn’t as good as he moaned it to be in the sheets.

I was like “Oh, yea? Then why does it make you come in ten minutes flat?”

He seemed to get quiet when I asked.

Then he lashed out at me again when he tried to f***k me and I pushed him on the floor.

He jumped at me, slapping me in the face and snatching me by my Philly ‘fro. I was scared for my life.

He pushed me on the floor, unzipped his pants and said, “Suck my d***k,” and I said, “Hell, no! Get out my house.”

“You ain’t g’on suck this d***k?”

“Hell, no!”

He pissed on me, hot, stinky piss. I was so grossed out.

Angrily, I was on my feet instantly, picking up the phone to call the police. No he didn’t just disrespect me!

Did I look like the f***king toilet and he snatched the phone cord from the wall and started whipping with it.

“You’re my b***h!” His eyes flashed dangerously as the sting of the cord brought tears to my eyes.

I was on the couch, crawled in a ball and I was screaming, “I thought you loved me,” and when I said it he slowly stopped and stood there looking guilty.

His pants sliding down his ass, he put his face in his hands and lowered himself to his knees and I hated him so much.

I was wide eyed, slowly reaching for my cell phone on the night stand so I could call for help and he looked up with a sadness I had never saw before and he said, "That's how my Daddy used to do my Mama for years. Make her suck his d***k and when she said no he pissed on her and beat her with belts…I’m sorry. I’m no better than him."

“Baby…” I had a pint of empathy because that’s the first time he opened up to me about his past. I tried to hold him but he said, “I must go. You told me to leave and I am.”

“Baby…”

He looked in my eyes and told me the truth about every thing. Jesus, I was NOT ready for the truth, at least not at that moment. But he gave it to me blood raw. Uncut and uncensored.

He said he f***ked other men in my house when I was gone.

I died inside, drying up like a raisin.