I'm rather partial to juiciness, but, ah, I was hoping for something with no repercussions.

I shrugged at that like it was a throwaway gesture, cuz that was the game I was playing. “C’aint get mad at a thing you ain’t know about,” I said sagely, as though it were some deep wisdom. It was a clue that I was giving him, a sign of things that had happened that he wasn’t aware of--but I wasn’t conscious that I was giving it, cuz in my head, I was playing the part of someone doing naughty shit with a bad boy she shouldn’t have been. We were criminals in this, hooligans flirting around an idea of a thing that was buzzing around us.

But in my head, at that point--it was all innocent. I was daring myself to act this way just to see cuz I was loose enough for it. It was a part of life I hadn’t explored, a piece of being that had eluded me, that I’d avoided on accident for so many years--so you gotta understand, it was exciting to joke with it, to fumble around and spew whatever I had in my head and mix it with whatever he had in his, especially since it was all honest, and light, and fun. But I was happily oblivious that I was messing around with a very real--very hot--flame.

So when he asked if my Ma and my Sis were hot, I didn’t trip over it. Instead of getting indignant over him musing over the attractiveness of my family members, I entertained the thought myself (at least in part) cuz nothing was real and it didn’t matter and it was just--talk. “I mean, one’s a baby and I don’t think’ you’re into that sorta thing,” I said with another sloppy shrug on the ground, “Ma, though. I ‘unno, I ain’t really look at her that close. You might be her type tho; her man’s as big an’ black as you are.” Basically. It was an approximation and a messy, throwaway comment that had nothing to do with the complexity of my Ma’s emotional attachments to anybody and more with how fucking hilariousthe outrageous thought was.

M'kidding, m'kidding. Ya don't shit where ya sleep, can't go porking ya herdmates.

I nodded at that, cuz more drunk wisdom, but it was gonna be a thing that I’d remember, even if I didn’t know it yet.

He asked about my Pa and there was a “What?” cuz that shit didn’t make sense at first--until I realized he misunderstood what I said (that was my line of reasoning, instead of acknowledging he wanted to know more about the God I came from, because it was a thing I didn’t feel like facing when I was topsy turvy drunk as balls) “Ah dude, no I was--uh--talkin about my Sis’ Pa. My Ma’s...uh, man or whatever. He’s the rat bastard.” I said, my transition between Pa’s smooth as smilk (?). “He jus’--he ain’t never like me, I ‘unno why, an’ I wouldn’ care ‘xcept he obviously dun knocked my Ma up,” I spewed with a vague irritation, because this was an anger and a sadness I’d swallowed long ago, and the looseness I was feeling was incapable of anything serious to stick; it was safe to talk about. “I mean, whatever, tha’s her business ‘n I guess she like him ’n as long as he treats her like he oughta then I c’aint really gooooooooooooooodDAMN.”

IT WAS A PENIS.

And Chico was already laughing in the background at my reaction but I didn’t notice, cuz I’d rolled right-side up and leaned forward with wide, ogling eyes, because usually this was a thing I would turn away from, disgusted and intimidated by the size and shape and everything about it, but now when everything had a haze of unreality and looseness I was able to indulge my curiosity and stare at as long as I wanted. And I did. “Uuugh,” I said, squinting my eyes and I watched how his balls kinda splayed on his thighs, gravity being unkind to the form of the ballsack. Everything, from the wrinkled skin of his sheath to the veiny surface of his half-baked floppy shlong caught my interest, even if it did sit on the brink of nausea. “Augh jeez, I’m sorry,” I said, rolling (wobbling) to my feet, cuz I had to piss again; it was a thing I hadn’t anticipated cuz, y’know. Bein’ drunk.

“That shit looks so heavy though,” I said, even as a thick frothy stream left me from behind (I was facing him so he wouldn’t have to see the nasty, but it wasn’t like I was being inconspicuous about it, hell) “Ain’t it uncomfortable?” I couldn’t imagine something like that swinging between my legs all the time. I couldn’t imagine there was even room there, cuz my thighs still chafed from time to time, and that area was clear of debris. My eyes caught his expression for the first time though, and my fascination broke with snorting laughter. “Oh stop, don’ gimme that face,” I choked, “but like, no, seriously, where would you even put that?” I mean, I knew, but the logistics of size wasn’t sitting well in my head.

"talk"