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Alan tried to do me dry, thinking that
all black guys can take getting fucked
with unlubed cocks.
He assumes that we like it rough.
After all, we did endure slavery.
"Get that thing away from me," I yelled.
I handed him the KY Jelly.
"Put it on," I said. He grimaced.
"I'm allergic to lube."
I thought I heard it all until he said that.
"What are you talking about?"
"Whenever I use the stuff,
these small bumps form on my dick".
Now he tells me after we strip off our clothes
like two Chippendale dancers.
"What kind of bumps?"
"I don't know... bumps."
"Well, have you gone to see a doctor about it?"
"Yeah, and he says it's nothing and that I should
make sure I wash thoroughly down there
When I'm showering."
I told him it sounds serious.
I still wouldn't let him stick it in me. I was scared shitless.
"Well, why don't you just blow me until you're healed?" I said
He hovers over me like a spaceship.
He's about to go in for a landing.
Accidentally he knocks over the KY-Jelly.
It spills on the carpet I just had cleaned.
I knew then that this relationship wouldn't last,
that it would be as bumpy as his penis.
Our sex gelled lives spilling into a newly-cleaned carpet of nothingness.

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