Notes

Da Serial Killa had never truly been one fo' pleasantries, findin tha proof of some muthafucka’s inner personalitizzle was located mo' so within they actions than within they voice or tha expressions plastered upon they faces. But tha hood was never tha wiser, his quick tongue n' his charmin ways seemed ta throw dem off eva so easily-- except fo' one person. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. His eyes had always narrowed up in his fuckin lil' direction, hand playin wit tha hem of his thugged-out lil' pocket, rubbin it wit tha same intensitizzle dat he lit his crazy-ass matches.

Dude had never truly forgotten dat day. It make me wanna hollar playa! Da dizzle when dat schmoooove muthafucka had discovered tha Arsonist n' wanted ta hold such a gangbangin' fire within his hands. Da Serial Killa was not afraid of tha devastation dat followed tha burnin embers, nor was he afraid of tha flames dat could encompass his wild lil' form. Da thought buckwild him, made his ass feel like he needed tha other within his wild lil' freakadelic grasp, n' he needed his ass now, nahmeean?

His thoughts is quickly pulled from his ass as tha skanky Investigator dangled from tha lynchin stand’s noose, framed n' wrongly accused by tha Sheriff. Da Serial Killa tried not ta laugh all up in tha judgin eyes n' tha Sheriff’s clenchin of his wild lil' fists-- a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shame, straight-up.

Da Serial Killa wastes no time up in findin tha Arsonist dat night, a smile twitched up on his fuckin lips as he findz tha other gas can up in hand n' a packet of matches tucked within his thugged-out lil' pocket yo. He’s bout ta pour gin n juice onto tha doggy den up in front of his ass before his shouldaz tense n' his thugged-out attention is suddenly pimped up all up in tha Killa n' shit. Da Serial Killer’s grin simply widens; he looked like a thugged-out deer up in headlights.

"What do you want?" Da lyrics is spat like venom from a snake, apparently da ruffneck didn’t like his work bein interrupted. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. Da Serial Killa understandz straight-up.

"To talk."

A scoff is issued from tha playa before him, tha Arsonist lookin faintly pissed off.

"What tha fuck iz there ta rap about, biatch? You’re wastin tha precious time I could be rockin ta douse." Da Arsonist attempts ta bat tha Serial Killa away wit a hand yo, but all it seems ta do is brang his ass closer so dat his schmoooove ass can grab it firmly yo. His hand is tight round tha Arsonist’s wrist, a moment of fear flashin up in tha fire bug’s eyes, n' tha Serial Killa had never felt mo' powerful.

"I wanna rap bout how tha fuck you glower all up in mah grill from across tha circle, bout how tha fuck yo' handz seem ta fidget whenever you spot me… And bout how tha fuck tha red up in yo' cheeks is slowly growin across yo' face."

"I-I be no--"

"Oh yo ass is."

Da Serial Killa laughs, tha Arsonist’s growlin remindin his ass of a mini-dawg dawg tryin ta be threatenin yo. Dude knows betta than ta fuck wit a teethang dawg yo, but da perved-out muthafucka simply cannot stop his dirty ass from pressin tha Arsonist against tha straight-up wall dat schmoooove muthafucka had just doused- causin tha Arsonist ta struggle.

"This is da most thugged-out shitty place ta hold me--"

"Scared of a lil heat, is we?" Da Serial Killa mocks, tha grin spannin his fuckin lips like a horny Lion. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da Arsonist gulps, turnin away his head n' bobbin dat shit.

"I’d rather not be covered up in mah own gasoline." Dude says, admittin ta tha fact dat even though he rather rides hard fo' seein other playas go up in flames, n' while da thug wouldn’t be opposed ta that, da thug would rather not set his dirty ass on fire by accident. Da Serial Killa chuckles, brangin his dirty ass closer n' nippin tha Arsonists nose, causin his ass ta move his wild lil' grill away again.

"Look all up in mah face." Da Serial Killer’s voice is stern, commanding, n' tha Arsonist can’t stop his wild lil' fuckin eyes from glancin back up ta tha Serial Killa as his cheek is grabbed n' his head is pulled back upwards. Da Arsonist has no clue how tha fuck ta react ta tha grill bein so close ta his own, they noses practically touching, his thugged-out ass practically stills up in his chest.

Da Serial Killa laughs.

"What is you fuckin laugh--" his voice is cut off by a pair of lips, n' tha Arsonist growls within his cold-ass throat, he knew it, tha Serial Killa would lick his ass just as soon as da perved-out muthafucka started ta talk. Da Arsonist decides it’s not tha dopest scam ta start ta struggle, n' throws caution ta tha wind as his fuckin lips return tha pressure. Da hand previously upon his cheek moves down his body, under his hoodie ta squeeze tha skin of his side n' slips tha fuck into his cold-ass trousers far too easily fo' tha Arsonist’s liking.

They part n' tha Arsonist pants, lips soon attachin ta his neck n' sucklin all up in tha flesh of his neck, bitin n' nippin like some sort of predatory animal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack yo. His grill burns wit shame n' embarrassment as his head tilts back ta allow tha Serial Killa ta leave whatever marks he pleased, earnin a rather rewardin squeeze ta his crotch, followed by a cold-ass lil couple rubs ta his slowly hardenin cock.

Da Arsonist allows a lil' small-ass moan ta spill from bruised n' puffy lips, back archin tha fuck into tha bust a nut on as tha Serial Killer’s grill rests against his wild lil' fuckin earlobe.

"Bit needy, hmm?"

"F-git tha fuck outta mah grill wit dat bullshit," be all tha Arsonist can manage before tha Serial Killa offers another gratuitous squeeze n' rub ta his crotch yo. Dude can feel tha strain within his cold-ass trousers as tha hand is removed ta rid of tha offendin fabric, tossin it off tha fuck into tha grass nearby n' before his schmoooove ass can truly protest he’s on his knees. Da Arsonist looks up all up in tha Serial Killer, suddenly feelin vulnerable. Da Serial Killa undoes his cold-ass trousers rather swiftly, pullin up his thugged-out lil' painfully stiff member n' rubbin it across tha Arsonist’s face, teasin it over his fuckin lips before tha grill widens ta accept tha girth, his cold-ass tongue rollin round tha ding-a-ling wit lil coordination, tha Arsonist had never done dis before yo, but tha Serial Killa seems patient, strokin his head when da ruffneck did suttin' right n' tuggin when da ruffneck did suttin' da ruffneck didn’t. Da Arsonist found up tha hard way dat teeth is generally suttin' you don’t wanna go anywhere near, so da thug widens his crazy-ass grill further n' clenches tha fabric of tha Serial Killer’s trousers as he feels a gangbangin' foot massage tha bulge within his underwear.

Dude needz dem off yo. Dude needz dem off now, nahmeean?

Da Arsonist pulls away, beatboxin lightly n' pawin all up in tha Serial Killer’s legs. Da other seems ta KNOW as he pulls tha Arsonist up off tha floor, leanin his ass against tha buildin behind dem before placin his wild lil' fingers tha fuck into tha Arsonist’s grill.

"Wet them, straight-up good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Unless you want dis ta hurt." Da Arsonist do as he’s holla'd at, movin his cold-ass tongue between tha fingers n' wettin dem thoroughly. Da Serial Killa pulls tha fingers up n' grins all up in tha other male, handz shakily clingin ta him, hairy-ass legs spread apart n' wrapped round his waist… Dude reaches tha fuck into his back pocket n' pulls up a lil' small-ass bottle.

Da Arsonist be lookin like his schmoooove ass could bust a cap up in his ass if da thug weren’t so aroused. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

"Sorry, I just wanted ta know just how tha fuck well I’d taught you, biatch." Dude laughs, rockin tha wall ta hold tha Arsonist up while he lubricates his wild lil' fingers, notin wit faint amusement how tha fuck tha other was managin ta remove his bangin remainin underwear, n' slips a gangbangin' finger inside of tha Arsonist, earnin a lil' small-ass gasp of surprise n' a whimper of discomfort before tha wallz of tha muscle chillaxed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! A second finger bangs n' scissors tha other wider, his crazy-ass grill attachin ta tha Arsonist’s neck n' sucklin gently there, humpin' tha marks wit every last muthafuckin low n' pleasured groan tha other makes.

A third finger make its way inside, stretchin his ass wider still n' managin ta rub over tha lil' small-ass bump inside of tha Arsonist’s walls yo. His hairy-ass legs tighten, nails diggin tha fuck into tha flesh of his thugged-out arms as a low moan bubblez forth all up in tha attention. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da Serial Killa removes tha fingers n' uses tha last of tha rather lil' small-ass forty ta lubricate his wild lil' fuckin erection before he lines it up wit tha newly-stretched rang of muscle, n' pushin inside.

Da Arsonist gasps, handz clenchin as his fuckin lips is captured once more, movin up in slow n' gentle rhythms as his crazy-ass muthafuckin insides is stretched even further, enclosin tha big-ass length dat is now encased within his muthafuckin ass. Da Serial Killa stops once he’s straight-up encompassed, breath short n' rasped. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

"Is you… Okay?" Da Arsonist don’t expect tha level of care within tha Serial Killer’s voice, handz movin ta cup all up in tha Serial Killer’s cheeks n' pull his ass tha fuck into another kiss, a whimper threatenin ta escape.

"Y-Yes… Please m-move…" Da Arsonist rolls his hips round tha length, earnin a rather pleased moan from tha Serial Killa before his thugged-out lil' punk-ass begins ta move. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Slow n' languid thrusts push tha fuck into him, lettin tha Arsonist establish a lil' small-ass rhythm of movement, rockin his hairy-ass legs ta push his dirty ass up n' down upon tha Serial Killa n' placin his ding-a-ling deeper inside. Da Serial Killer’s lips is back on his neck once more, markin it wit ludd bites n' kisses as tha pace quickens. Da Arsonist don’t bother stoppin tha moans dat spill from him, joinin tha Serial Killer’s own as they speed up mo' n' more, rollin dem both further n' further ta they inevitable climax.

Da Arsonist had never felt anythang like it before, tha heat n' tha pleasure becomin all too much fo' him, mind cloudin n' his voice hoarse as tha Serial Killa continues ta thrust harshly tha fuck into him, bumpin against his thugged-out lil' prostate every last muthafuckin so often n' bustin wavez of pleasure up his spine wit every last muthafuckin thrust. Fingers curl tha fuck into tha Serial Killer’s shirt, n' then under it, demandin ta feel tha skin beneath as nails rake down his back up in desperation.

Da Serial Killa bites tha side of his cold-ass throat n' tha Arsonist moans, hairy-ass legs tightenin round his waist, pushin his ass even further within his ass as he orgasms-- he never would have thought dat it would be a funky-ass bite ta bust his ass over tha edge yo, but up in dis biatch, rationizzle thought is unheard of. It’s not too long afta dat tha Serial Killa comes ta his own orgasm, all dem lazy thrusts helpin his ass along, n' wit some degree of disgust tha Arsonist realises he unloaded inside of his muthafuckin ass.

Dude don’t have tha juice ta argue wit his ass as he’s lead ta tha floor, pulled close n' busted tenderly. Da Arsonist smiles.

"... You’re a prick."

"I know." tha Serial Killa laughs, n' tha Arsonist allows his wild lil' grill ta bury tiredly tha fuck into tha side of his neck, sighin wit content of tha afterglow.

He’ll burn tha other’s doggy den down later, fo' now, he’s content.

FIN.