In the that clutch of fervor, I live inside your throat, making love with
some real or imaginary man or woman. It could be a casual eye,
beast, ass or lips that I track. Object doesn’t matter. Only the raunch
of sweat and piss remains.
It is like the ocean-flood brushing against your body making the sun
simply a finger pushing into your cunt penetrating to beginning so
the ache so perfect takes your breath and swallows it with the lingering
taste of pussy or dick. Only crude words, as some call them, work in your
mind when you finally stop shaking. It is easy to cry then. I do.
Pushing back you fight it, and thrown about by the waves you either fall
deeper into death or ride the surface until your heart racing endures the
oblivion of inner waves throughout.
Looking back at that near death you smile. What have you escaped? Returning
to the euphoria of sexual madness you are caught after you stop and start
your heart.
I love after-sex taste spit in my mouth. How tender and deadly are nimble
storms that lean into your lips, spreading them, opening the pearl,
flipping it out and then mouthing it. Why as a woman I love women as well
as men. How else can you suck your own cunt?
With sex I am alive in the silent and deep space of the black water. I love
it when that excitement blurs between you and your lover?
Hands tingle, burn, and shaking them my mouth opens barely and my lips
taste dry rubbing against my own grit into inner darker pink.
I escape from the desert taking her cheeks into my palms, caressing them
too easily, whacking my skin, driving the pitch of my legs higher to pump
the sea and polish the ribs of the shells where the sand stuns heaven while
lying about weather forecast and fucking motion against her pussy a sleep
too. I predict orgasm in this semi tormented state.
While I rise across Laurie I do not resist the walls I take her clit into
my mouth and feel her fingers pressing against my cheeks. Aaron joins us
and pushing against my ass he enters her cunt with his thick fingers press
against my mouth and her as Laurie swallows the thin point of my tongue. In
a moment I will suck Aaron’s fingers wrapping my hands around his cock,
making his back bend. We will drain his cock. We will swallow him and this
thick semen spread on all our faces with shine. Finally, grabbing my eyes,
raging down the tunnels of the every abandoned beach, careening left and
right, screaming at naked men and masked women blocking song or sight when
taking hold I imagine it all as we buck together. I whisper to Laurie.
“Don’t you wish Henry was here too?”
I have my masks wanting them, myself, to fall inside during the phantasm of
sex as I suck my own cock (I don’t have one) and watch my ass push that
pink snapped on dildo into Aaron.
When I was sixteen I watched super eight movies of my mother fucking three
big black men. She wore a mask and bore a whip. Father was under her foot.
My dear father the Admiral was being fucked in the ass by some dark dildo
while mother watched him sucking cock.
Was this my imaginary video or some storyboard I conjured out of Aaron’s
fantasy to have Laurie and myself inside him?
There on the curb I sat alone, my legs apart, underpants open, and my cunt
shining. I was fifteen brazen wanting the neighbor boy to watch me play
with it. I want to teach him how but when I lifted my skirt he passed away.
I watch my imaginary movies too long. I watched my father tumble through
the waves when I was twelve feeling his hands on my soft new breast and not
wanting him to stop. I wanted to tell mother to find out if it were ok to
have him. I didn’t want to steal the Admiral. I was a precocious brat with
dark hair and sweet tits.
Last year when I was alone, when Aaron was in trouble with life, wanting
too little, I stopped wishing for the circus of sex and wanted just the
easy merry go round of a casual fuck with my Aaron and more with Laurie and
Henry. I wanted it simpler. I didn’t want to pick up men in strange bars,
seduce them into easy morning sketches and then ravishing them drunk as we
both could become. That life became too hard.
Have you ever walked at idle, barely moving and you bump into someone you
want to know. I met my mother again that way. Of course, not my real
mother, but a woman I took as one. She seduced me at the bar and we were
mouth to mouth in no time. She was older and had rougher skin and had those
deep lips I love to kiss. I called her mother, and she laughed. “I am not
sure if I am your mother, but I could be. I am everyone’s Mama. Maybe, your
father in drag.” Once I dreamed of what I assumed was an ancient relative.
I imagined he was fucking my mother. I came up to him pulled on his prick
and asked my turn and he vanished into dust.
