In Defense of Tire-Fucking Monkeys

     
yes, i was fucking that tire but you know what the transcendentalist say (fucking tires lowers your cholesterol) and the tire is not just a tire,nothing is what it is , each part a reflection of the whole, and  when she tossed me the stolen keys , said open her up,lets rock and roll,  we rev road her daddy's shiny black baby , burning rubber  squealing  as fast as she'd fly ,her  white snake  hand  sliding between my thighs, she leaned over tongue- kissed- bit my lobe like a lover and wet whispered straight to the blood-bone swelling beneath her hand, i wanna be your driver she purred,  well cars were never the same , my plugs would forever spark at the curves of every sexy  line, that night shimmering from every hood the dark of her, my first, and everything now just some version of that rush of life to suck itself off,  life on life on life  a menage infini incest all the time to breathe is  to make love  with the air, arms make love in the tunnels of coats, J's curved cock rubs G ' s spot,  even the old man knick knack paddy wacks seven up in heaven,and every line of words till death fucks us last, erotic or not, is lusty to be tasted in a mouth, licked by hungry eyes, held deep in the vagina mind of another, even the words that bleed are orgasms of pain and, tires, what can i say, i'm a monkey and they make me horny, the way they roll when blown full,  black grooves friction- filling up with the steamy-wet hard long road after a summer rain and i hear her purr-growl ripple up my leg, i wanna be your driver