I have watched you, the way you stroke your cock. Not like those others, who’s wrist and hand moves like a desperate piston, but smooth, gentle even–one finger up the back of your shaft, drawing the cum out, coaxing a spurt of milky white release. My mind wandering between your legs–what do you taste like? smell like? Could I keep your cock stuffed in my mouth after you cum, would you keep me filled…let me love your cock even when the cum has stopped spilling? Will you fuck me and and stay inside me as our cum drips out around you fading trunk, collapsing  on top of me in a fuck heap, you  still inside me where you belongs?

Our secret never realized and never to be erased bound in the irrational concrete of words and image. Our night together creeps, we drink from a bottle, we drink from each other. One flowing into the other–our past–loss and pain–those cocks and cunts who stiffen our hearts, are forgotten with each plunge of your dick into my folds of fuckable flesh. With each lick of my pussy, you come to devour all else there before, with each thrust of your cock into my mouth–I become the only mouth. The abstraction of words becomes an expression in cum.

You let me disappear and now I don’t know how to get you back, but you were never mine to get back. Two forgotten animals left outside to fend for themselves in a barrage of that sexual violence we find so appealing, mystifying, romantic, and terrifying.

Pumping volumes of words, text, each syllable-your cum–the idiom of our sexuality, fills me up, as you drink it  down. The cocktail of two. Your glances have been stolen. Your tongue has been used– to lick me clean of your hot spill across my landscape of the woman I am, to taste my ass, to kiss my lips–to whisper those words I long to here.

The sunlight move in–I am alone with my own. The trace, the thread between us ravels and frays–our potent fuck fleeting as words. Everything left unsaid, a lust never allowed to penetrate.

I don’t know how it is it came to be

That I picked up your sex appeal

It came to me in a dream

The words drilling though my sleep

I want you but fuck another

Sexual violence between lovers, humiliation and apologies

Darted eyes and hopeful stares

The philosophy of two

Streams of love spill out and crash against my face

A drink that never quenches–a lust that goes unfilled

The absence of sound fills the room

Daylight creeps and you’re not here

My potent fuck, flowing unexamined

I drift and you’re your own, I let you disappear