When I first met Rhino, I wondered how this medium-toned, fine-as-hell 19-year-old brother, standing just over six feet tall, got his name. I was in a straight dance club in Center City (downtown Philadelphia, but DON'T call it "downtown" to a resident) - waiting for a friend and bored out of my skull - when I glanced over and saw this sexy-ass boi moving like a panther on the dancefloor, pressed up against an "America's Top Model" wannabe whom I instantly thought unworthy of him. I forgot my friend, and when Miss Thang popped off to the ladies room about 20 minutes later, I snagged her chocolate bar of manhood and introduced myself. When he told me his name he saw my double-take... and without hesitation, sitting on a barstool, he spread his hands out over his baggy-ass black jeans and pulled the denim tight against his crotch to show me how he got his name.
"It's always hard, man. Like a rhino's horn."
I was hooked on this man with no shame in his game from word, and being that rhinos are heading toward extinction, I dame FO' SHO' wanted to capture this dude on film forever! I gave him a card before his girl got back, and left the club having never seen my friend, my body in a cold sweat and heart racing and remembering those little sprigs of hair sticking out of the open throat of his black shirt. DAMN, this was one fine straight boy!
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