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Brian Cardella |
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Play Date Don’t fucking tease me, your soft flesh caressing my body. I can’t stand that thing you do when you tickle me with the point of your index finger, and don’t think I didn’t notice that velvety red nail polish. I’m going to blush being held this way. My old master locked me up, never took me out much to play, but we are making up for lost time now. Fix your aim, or don’t aim. Let go a few rounds into whatever’s out there. I know you like it. You get off on slamming my hammer down. Hold me as I convulse. Don’t let go as the ecstasy from each round passes through our bodies. Go ahead, pick up those steaming shells that bounced so innocently to the floor. That’s us, baby. Getting Back Up I wipe the mud from my face horizontally like a Cherokee warrior preparing for battle. The Rail “use the rail” she said on my first step the second found me riding the brick and concrete the way a tree rides a chainsaw |
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