All I have to do is look at a different part of his body when he’s on top of me, and it’s like I’m fucking someone, or something, new every time.

A multi-colored serpent winds itself around his left arm and hangs over his shoulder, resting it’s scaly head on his color bone. It’s eyes, like a jealous woman, taunt me. It silently claims a part of him, but right now, so do I. My teeth leave an imprint on the serpent’s face, a jagged, semi-permanent reminder of our confrontation, and my victory.

I roll him onto his back, taking charge in the way that he likes. The sort of power he lets me have. He thinks it’s cute when I run the show. It turns him on. Straddling his hips, I feel like I’ve been impaled on his massive dick – the kind of phallus that requires forethought, a relaxed cunt, and lots of lube. Rocking very slowly back and forth, easing myself into a more pleasurable state of existence, I run my fingers across his naked chest. There’s a tribal mask on his right pectoral muscle. 5 inches of angry African voodoo staring me in the face, it’s red eyes dancing with each of my lover’s breaths. I put my hand directly over it, letting it peek through my fingers. I want it to watch me as I fuck him. I want it to know who I am, as I suffocate it with my entire weight.

I pull myself upward and off of his erect and swollen shaft, lean on one knee and dismount. Turning my body around and re-straddling, I kiss his lips with my pussy. If it could purr, it would…when he places each hand on an ass cheek, gripping them like basketballs in his palms, spreads them, and licks me from front to back like a sticky lollipop. An octopus wraps itself around his left thigh, sneaking in between his legs, and up on to hollow of his pelvis. Two, small yellow eyes gleam from the sides of its head, bobbing up and down and swaying with the current of his muscles, as they tighten and relax. I kiss the tip of all 8 tentacles, from his pelvic bone to the inside of his thigh.
 
It’s a constant battle between psyche and art. May this war last an eternity.

“Man with an Octopus Tattoo II” (2011) by Richard Learoyd. This life-sized nude photograph has a pose similar to that of works by Ingres. Photographer: Richard Learoyd/McKee Gallery New York/National Gallery via Bloomberg

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