Nymphomaniac Convention

Participants at a recent nymphomaniac convention in Chicago.


Columnist: Ronald Ayers

By Ronald Ayers

I boarded an airplane this past weekend for a little rendezvous I had cooked up with Audrey Williams a high school girl friend of mine. We were to meet at a Bed and Breakfast just outside of Boston, Massachusetts.

When I took my seat and settled in, I glanced up and saw the most beautiful chocolate soul sister I’ve seen in my life boarding the plane. I soon realized she was heading straight towards my seat. As fate would have it, she took the seat right beside me. Eager to strike up a conversation I blurted out.

“Business trip or pleasure?”

She batted her big beautiful brown eyes at me, smiled and said.

“Business. I’m going to the Annual Nymphomaniacs of America Convention in Boston”.

I damn near fell out of my seat! Here was the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen sitting next to me. Her skin was the color of a Milky Way candy bar

English: A US Milky Way candy bar, broken in h...

English: A US Milky Way candy bar, broken in half to show contents. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

She had on this green dress with a V-neck that stopped at her navel. Her succulent looking voluptuous breast did all they could to tumble out of her clothes onto the floor, and when she crossed her legs I got a glimpse of some fecund black foliage that made me want to dive head first into the abyss! I put my balled fist into my mouth to stifle my scream.

‘Damn!’ I said to myself ‘She’s going to a meeting of nymphomaniacs. Am being blessed or what!

I began to calculate how I could call my date in Boston, cancel my meeting with her, and set up a rendezvous with this self proclaimed nymphomaniac. Struggling to maintain my composure, I calmly asked.

“What’s your business role at this convention?”

“Lecturer,” she responded. “I use information that I have learned from my personal experiences to debunk some of the popular myths about sexuality”.

“Word?” I said. “And what kind of myths are those?”

“Well,” she explained, “one popular myth is that African-American men are the most well-endowed of all men, when in fact it is the Native American Indian who is most likely to possess that trait. Another popular myth is that Frenchmen are the best lovers, when actually it is men of Jewish descent who are the best.

“I have also discovered that the lover with absolutely the best stamina is the Southern Redneck.”

Suddenly the woman seemed to become a little uncomfortable. She blushed.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I shouldn’t really be discussing all of this with you. I don’t even know your name.”

“Geronimo,” I said, “Geronimo Epstein. My friends call me Bubba.”

REMEMBER! A mind is a terrible thing to use!


About Ronald Ayers

Ron Ayers is a freelance blogger and humor writer living in Blue Island, Illinois.
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