slamming you shut
Would you like to be someone else for just one night? Would you like to be me? I could unscrew it, take it right off and hand it over to you. You could go run wild in North End Halifax for a night.
I'll stay home and read a book. As two fingers reach down to stir inside a curious new hole. Absorbed in the story, moist fingers trace the threads of my empty screw-hole cock-cunt.
I trust you will return it when you are done in the same state that you found it.
So I can pick up where I left off picking you up. I have dog-eared you, cracked your spine. I have laid you face-down on the table. I have highlighted my favourite passage.
If I could, I would suck all the words right out of you. Let my tongue translate from your pussy to your ear. In a hot whisper I'll tell you everything those lips have told me.
Do you know your own secrets? I'll wipe off my chin and screw myself on again, and then I'll write them all out, right here for everyone to read.
Comments
I wouldn't like to BE you for the night, but would happily be WITH you for the night. We could run wild in the North End together...my place is just around the corner....
Posted by: violet petticoat | November 21, 2006 07:48 PM
don't tease the man. he means business.
Posted by: phi. | November 24, 2006 11:34 AM
who's teasing? i mean business too....
Posted by: violet petticoat | November 24, 2006 06:15 PM
that's really, really good.
Posted by: ainsley | November 25, 2006 11:30 PM
i need to be inspired philip, give me more...it's all up to you mr. clark,light a fire under this lazy ass.
Posted by: birdie | November 26, 2006 02:59 AM
You need more... This is just enough to get me started
Posted by: almond-eyes | November 28, 2006 01:06 PM
you truly are hot action, aren't you? shame i'm not quite in the north end.
Posted by: the library girl | November 30, 2006 01:01 AM
Sometimes I wish you didn't make me so hot. And merely through the printed word, no less. Oddly enough, I think I'd probably really enjoy just watching you have sex with the gorgeous damsel of your choice. Hmmmm... yeah, that thought is getting me even more flustered/hot/bothered. Thank you for the sexual frustration.
Posted by: Red | November 30, 2006 05:51 AM
I haven't visited in a while. Nice to see there is still action.
Posted by: froggy | December 6, 2006 08:22 PM
Sex Without Love
How do they do it, the ones who make love
without love? Beautiful as dancers,
gliding over each other like ice-skaters
over the ice, fingers hooked
inside each other's bodies, faces
red as steak, wine, wet as the
children at birth whose mothers are going to
give them away. How do they come to the
come to the come to the God come to the
still waters, and not love
the one who came there with them, light
rising slowly as steam off their joined
skin? These are the true religious,
the purists, the pros, the ones who will not
accept a false Messiah, love the
priest instead of the God. They do not
mistake the lover for their own pleasure,
they are like great runners: they know they are alone
with the road surface, the cold, the wind,
the fit of their shoes, their over-all cardio-
vascular health--just factors, like the partner
in the bed, and not the truth, which is the
single body alone in the universe
against its own best time.
Sharon Olds
i just thought you would like this. i think it's beautiful.
Posted by: megan | December 7, 2006 02:58 AM