Why is it that when I’m home alone, without a man to be seen – and any legitimate prospects miles away (including my husband) – I hit the roof with desire for a nice, hard cock?

Well, duh! It’s because I can’t have it.

 How droll. How cliche. How frustrating.

How perfectly useful for writing inspiration.

Cock 
Tongue tip to taut skin,
purple with anticipation,
my eyes graze the vein path
upward to the head.
That road from base to top,
a guiding ridge leading me
up and down in languid rhythm,
content to take my time.
Suck, nibble, taste, devour, desire
to pull forth the fount of satiation,
watching your eyes roll back,
and your mouth open without words.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

CommentLuv badge

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Are you 18 or older? This website contains material that is not suitable for readers under the age of 18. Please verify your age to view the content, or click "Exit" to leave.
%d bloggers like this: