So, yesterday I found myself fiddling around doing my normal thing here on the Southside Of Atlanta: hustling my EROTICA/PORNOGRAPHY/SMUT books. I ran into someone from the past that apparently knew me; I didn’t remember her, though. I asked, “Where do you know me from?”
Man, I hope I didn’t sleep with her. Curious now, I did inquire if we’d ever done the horizontal mambo before?
“No,” she replied, “you’ve been with that many women that you don’t know who you’ve slept with?”
She was making me look bad at that very moment, but I went on ahead and admitted that I had run across a couple of ladies out in my day-to-day moseying around that I totally forgot about. (I can blame it on age, right? I’m a middle-aged man now.) I operate a little rideshare company, so I convinced her to let me take her home. She agreed to supporting your boy, and on the way to driving into the sunset we conversed about the genesis of our meeting almost 20 years ago, and about her people that had read one of my god awful pieces of Literary Pornography. One thing lead to another, and she was in my phone eyeing videos of me doing inappropriate deeds. We began talking flagrantly a bit about our sexual experiences there in the front seats of my car, but before I knew it, her destination had appeared before us.