For 100 dollars you can come in my mouth
Fury at wet socks
in a cheap vinegar room
the struggle for light in Mexico that night after all-day
west-east flight through frightened pussyless skies,
the plan to get laid
laid months in advance.
the first whore a dud adding to my
misery in the deafening bar, but now upstairs again with this one, blonde,
naked ass curved long like the view in a peephole,
pear breasts, body glorious but fading,
as she finished undressing I made her say it again
because I really didn’t understand.
Her English was good, the last item on the menu, better,
“For 100 dollars, no condom blowjob and you can come in my mouth.”
money laid down, again,
she tricked me as I tried to squirt her while lying on my back,
missing the mystery sweet spot that makes the hot white blast,
instead it poured out like angry white ants.
She grazed the softening tower with her lips, short blonde hair tickling my crotch like teasing rain.
I had fucked and failed again,
wanting to fill her with the years lost
from both of our lives, blah blah blah,
there was no time for sentiment
it was over so fast,
already forgotten by one of us forever.
Tags: bloodwords, blowjob, mexico, poetry, sex, white hot, whore
meatlights39.wordpress.com 
Thursday, 10 January 2008 at 5:24 pm |
Yes, the great misnomer in life is that sex is great. Sometimes it is but most of the time it’s just an act. We’re saddled with an instinct to stick our meat into a woman. The god damn “survival” instinct keeps breeding more stiff dicks and more pussies, all the while each hating the living fuck out of each other yet producing millions more offspring anyways, and the burgeoning population of this planet overtaking everything, and look where that stupid motherfuckin’ instinct has all of us today: on the way straight to hell.