| Poetry: Lust: Three Little Words (1/1) |
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I don’t want three little words from you. They seem to always come, usually right after you do. But I don’t want them tonight. Tonight’s menu is frenzied rapture, not tender romance. It’s pure hedonism, not mushy chocolate-coated “I love you” s. Save the respect for your wife; You are so clearly filled with it, As you lay here, naked, again, in my bed. Filled to the bursting point, it seems. Yes. I want that pretty cock that she won’t suck. So give it to me. And if you can manage to get even three little words out, I’m obviously performing below par. |
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