The Beautiful Kind

So I decided I wanted to get with a big strapping black man who’s hung like a horse as a change of pace from all the skinny white guys I usually get with. (Note: Not all black men are hung! It’s just that they tend to be show-ers as opposed to grow-ers).

So I found one off the internet. We chatted on the phone, and he told me he had to work some evenings for his job, so I asked, “What do you do?”

He immediately got sheepish and said he didn’t want to say.

“What, are you a bouncer at a strip club?”

“What?! No!”

“Work at a casino?”

“No no.”

“Is what you do illegal?”

“NO!” he said, laughing. “Naw baby, look, I’ll tell you when we meet in person, OK?”

I have to admit, I was nervous. Why didn’t he want to say what his job was?

But of course I met him last night at a cool bar in U City.

Turns out he’s a COP. And not that I have a thing for that, but for some reason I thought that was really sexy. He packs more heat than I thought! He’s even been shot. He regaled me with fascinating work stories. I asked him if cops were really corrupt and racist, and he said no. I told him how my mom would love him, cuz she watches CourtTV 24 hours a day. And when his cell phone went off, the ring was that COPS theme song. Seriously.

So is it wrong that I’ve already fantasized about making sweet love with him while listening to Barry White?

PS: He told me he wanted to eat my ass. And he doesn’t even read this blog. I told you so!