Tag Archives: blow job

suffused

20 Friday Jul 2018

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on suffused

Tags

, , , , ,

Dark love: filling your throat up to the balls.

This, too, is romance. Hands pulling, clenched in

 

your hair. Call it rough. Call it crude. Fuck-dolls

and archangels whimper at our work. Sin,

 

good and proper, they’d call this. Cum and drool

cascade down your chin. You grin. I trust you.

 

You trust me. Other love lives are cesspools

of hurt. To spread your ass wide. To corkscrew

 

into you with head thrown back, with throat bared.

Others moan of lives lived without passion

 

but you quiver when that word is uttered.

You’ve taken what nirvana offered.

 

Suffused with such dark love our souls open,

reverberate with wonder — we’re well paired.

gospel

14 Thursday Dec 2017

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on gospel

Tags

, , , , , ,

I like you best with your face dripping cum.
It’s my form of prayer to you. A godhead

splitting your ass, ruining your rectum
until I roll you over on the bed

and you taste your own tart-funk on my cock
as it fills your throat. There’s nothing soothing

about prayer, just the sudden thrill and shock
when I pull out, my orgasm drenching

your cheeks, nose, eyelashes. If seminal
solutions are sacred then my temple

is your ass. Piercing it is like glory,
something sacred and cum proof of faithful

worship. Balls deep in you is like gospel.
Heathen, once more you and I are holy.

bastard’s freak

18 Saturday Nov 2017

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on bastard’s freak

Tags

, , , , , , ,

Arse’s trickster; Lather maker; Rude root.
You say cocks are symbols of devotion,

godhood, rebirth; like you’re the first to put
the “erection” back in resurrection.

Knacker bone; Billy-me-nag; Love’s horsewhip.
First strip away myths, all the begetting,

its use as a weapon, male ego; strip
it bare and what’s there? 8-inches … pulsing.

Leather stretcher; Jockey’s pride; Bastard’s freak.
Some days I can say, “Brother, your beauty

haunts me.” Give me those days without bullshit
crafted to glory in this queer physique —

days where I can leave your face soaked, splotchy,
cum-streaked, where you hold out your palm and spit.

pig roast

23 Wednesday Oct 2013

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on pig roast

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , ,

What was awkward wasn’t the need, wasn’t
just the will, it was the way that the straight

guy made it clear that he had consented
to this only to fuck your wife. The eight

shots of vodka that the three of you split
should have loosened things up, but no. You both

take a place beside her. He will submit
to her deep throating him down. But he loathes

the thought that he might be forced to kiss you.
Perhaps she’s watched too much porn. Perhaps she’s

blind to the clues. But with your cock in her
mouth and his in her ass she grins at you

both with joy. This is what she wants: boy grease,
cum, sperm, pig roast with two men, two lovers.

overshot

25 Sunday Aug 2013

Posted by in Erotic, Illustration and art, Poetry

≈ Comments Off on overshot

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

dunce1

dunce2

once I overshot from the drunk
that she siphoned off pleasure
from base to tip perhaps
she just liked the word dunce
as if all her students weren’t
young and dumb and full
of cum I sucked her lime
sodden lips tasting queer
tequila, salty, on her rim
and too young to know
what the hell did she
just put in her mouth

nox diva

20 Wednesday Feb 2013

Posted by in Erotic, Illustration and art, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on nox diva

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , ,

at the temple in aphrodisias

at the temple in aphrodisias

I am the mildest of creatures, spell-bound,
gossamer, a thorn jutting. The nox diva

inside the mushrooms growing on the mound
where I buried you. First there is nausea,
sweats, my gut turning. Then you open up

inside my skull-bone; a whiskey cactus,
melting. A mushroom is like a polyp;

I’ve found both on you. I turn, like Horace,
into your well-mannered court slave. Ghost slave.

Slave of a ghost. Each time you slide into
my mouth you leave part of yourself behind.

One day I’ll consume you all. Then your grave
will stand empty. I can’t let go of you,

no-no, even if I was so inclined.

* * *

Notes:

Nox diva is my attempt at translating the phrase “night goddess” into Latin.

Horace was one of Rome’s greatest poets, one whom the English poet John Dryden dismissed as “a well-mannered court slave.”

unfit

16 Saturday Feb 2013

Posted by in Erotic, Illustration and art, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on unfit

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

unfit

They say that the cruel one must now depart
at dawn. Come back to bed, love. I’ve been cruel
but not like that. I am shallow. My heart
knows that it will be judged by the jackal
headed god Anubis one day. “Unfit;”
I am sure that will be what I am told.
“Unfit” gets you consumed by vile Ammit,
the soul-eater. Tomorrow I’ll be cold
as a crypt. Tonight, though, I burn. Stay here.
They say you can’t get to heaven depraved.
What’s a bruise? a bite? I’ll mark your flesh mine.
And then what comes between us I will smear
across your face. I don’t care to be saved.
Damnation is also an act divine.

* * *

Note:

Anibus is the jackal-headed god associated with mummification and the afterlife in ancient Egyptian religion.

Ammit is a funerary deity, a female demon in ancient Egypt; part lion, part hippopotamus and part crocodile. Her titles included, “Devourer of the Dead,” “Eater of Hearts” and “Great of Death.” Her job was eating souls judged by Anibus as corrupt.