The little death

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And you wait for the open leg shot,

the pussy, the fanny, the minge.

She's got nice breasts, nice body, i'm passed the face,

I want to see between her legs.

Late night adult channels, soft to pixelated porn,

and if you're lucky a second of lips,

those lips squeezed fortress between two calves.

Here it is , this is the big one,

the one i've been impatiently waiting for,

the one that will set me off, my blood flowing.

"Fuck it" they've pixelated it,

why do that.

I've seen it all before,

i've fingered it , licked it, sucked it, prodded it,

i'm only gonna have a harmless wank,

it''s  not going to bring out a beast in me.

Late night porn,

i haven't had a shag for two or more years now,

they say i have a schizoid personality,

i choose masturbation over intimacy,

with my halitosis dripping,

and the post nasal swallowing down my throat.

I go to bed, turn the radio up a little louder,

there's porn under my pillow.

So many naked bodies, so few memories,

and so much time in my hand.

I've shared so little orgasms,

mostly with the fantasy women  in the magasines,

and the embelished fabrications of my imagination.

It's a beautiful thing, to share an orgasm,

to leave each other blind, sense of touch,

mute, dumb, enraptured.

But this is porn,

man's friend and fiend, wife, lover , aggressor,

the lonesome purging of a wanker.

Tomorrow i may not stay up so late,

but i know the malady will conjour and rise again in me,

no longer than a week,

no shorter than an hour,

this is a sad cunt's glory, a tosser's delight,

open your legs for me,

wide, inviting, revealing,

maybe tonight.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Nov 09, 2010 ⏰

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