deepundergroundpoetry.com
Bloodslut
My little black box
Eyes heavy on my chest like
Two loaded chambers
Lift the lid
Her contortions on the floor
Get me off
She's a pretty little thing with a
Little problem
Chrome, bits of glass,
Razors
Hot and edgy for my
Play-toy
I unzip my chest
One swift motion
Her movements precise
Straddled in my chair
Mouth to my front, tonguing
Sanguine pools
Sweat-slicked burning
Raking my back, arched
Lips smack and slosh
Blood between her cheeks
She's wet and humming
Shedding my skin
Thick musk, licks tremble
Like satin fire
Kisses and swallowed moans
My heart pumping out
More and more
She wants it all
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