seriously?

punch me in the face
paint it red-blood

give me something to believe
anything, i'll put it on my skin
I'll put in the basket-something

not enough/it's never enough

punch me
fuck me
kill me
fire away...................

hi

work will be hard
my cock will be hard
thinkin' of my tongue
against your tan belly
smacking me in the face
for the things i've said and done

like a smoke.

Just eat me, devour me in my entirety
I'm sick of giving piece by piece, be done with it
my lust for you makes me weak, although you are not my-you
your pale skin and the stinging of your lips are not all there is
except when i want a break from all for a moment, the sight of you
youthful,nasty, pretty you.
harmless pretty you.

hey hey my my

what if you could take your soul out to wash?
mine might look like a plum, bruised purple outside,red juicy inside.
i'd use a brillo pad and some candy blue dish soap to scrub it clean.
if this was an option, would it be a daily thing or a last resort type thing?
what happens if you drop it and it rolls away, no soul for the day?
i would smear your lipstick all over it and lick it.
fuck you with it maybe, perhaps give it to you and take a long nap.

i wanna be your fish taco

rigid

I want you to wonder how you got here
ass in the air, elbows on the floor
degraded, wanting more
sickly sweat, desperation
small tear in your eye begs me
rythmic pounding of your body aganst me begs me
hand around your throat just on the edge of a choke
paint your face with my fleshy brush
what a good girl might get

Panties on the brain...............

when I was younger so much younger than today.........
Twelve to be exact, I used to babysit for the twins down the street sometimes.
Their mother was very waspy-pretty(?)and a lush.She was always very affectionate when she came home loaded, always a kiss on the cheek or a big hug,"someday my handsome boy." she would always say as I was leaving. I wasn't sure what she meant, but I would think about it sometimes whilst jerkin' off. One particular evening she came home very late, her make up was all smeared, she looked angry, no sign of her usual alcohol fueled sweetness. She went straight into the bathroom and then into her bedroom as if I wasn't even there. As I was grabbing my jacket to leave she called my name and asked me, "come here for a second." I walked into her bedroom and she was on the bed,propped up on her elbows, legs open, pantie's and a t-shirt. "have you ever seen one of these?" motioning between her legs. I looked down and then back into her blurry eyes, "In magazines." "Come here and kiss it." I crawled onto the bed and kissed her panties over and over all around, I was nervous, scared, excited, mostly scared with an erection. I tried to remember every Penthouse forum I had ever read, what exactly am I supposed to do. Her pantie's were getting very hot and very wet. She grabbed my hand and guided it to her pantie's, "Pull them to the side and use your tongue." I obeyed. New tastes, smells, the skin of her thighs brushing against my cheek, It was all very exciting except when she spoke, drunk and sad. At some point her movements became very frantic and she began to cry and out of nowhere she screamed angrily, "Go, Get out of my house!" She started sobbing deeply, I stood up confused, she pointed to the door without looking up. I left confused, feeling bad for her, crying and all. We never spoke of it and I only baby sat for the twins a few more times.
Sometimes I still like the pantie's pulled to the side, licking, fucking, whatever. Was I molested in some fashion, I don't think so. Inappropriate perhaps, maybe just lonely people trying to connect, whatever no need to analyze a memory. I yam what I yam.