Hallowen 2015

Fall.

Less than a week old.

Feelings of misgivings;
Unnamed apprehensiveness.

Sometimes,
A double image in the mirror;
My reflection overlaid with another —
Pointed teeth;
Cat’s eyes —
Green,
Flecks of red.

Uneasy.

A blood moon.

And a message.

“I’ll be waiting.
On the 31st.
Same as before.”

Somehow,
I had known,
The message
Was coming.

And,
I would be going.

That shadowy image,
Behind mine in the mirror,
Was grinning.

As I stood outside the door,
Facing the setting sun,
A car horn,
Blew,
Thirteen,
Bass notes,
That rumbled,
In my groin.

The back door swung open,
I slid in,
The door swung closed,
Before my hand could reach for it.

As the car drove away from the curb,
A voice I remembered from,
Last year,
And the year before,
And the year before that,
Said,
“Undress,
We’re running late,
We’ll have to dash,
As soon as we get there.”

By the time I was undressed,
The car was stopping.

The same rural road,
The same dried brown grass,
Past the grove of leafless trees.

And the same silk pentagram,
Staked out with knives,
On the top of the hill.

As we approached,
We picked up our glasses,
(The same ones),
Of wine;
Waiting for us,
On a silver tray.

In the distance,
I heard a clock chime;
Once.

Eleven thirty.

Time to sip our wine,
Kiss,
Open mouths,
Wine from my mouth,
Mixing with,
Wine from her mouth.

A buss,
Way,
Way,
Out of scale,
For the little wine we’d drunk.

I heard a chuckle,
Inside my head.

Somehow,
She seemed to,
Hear it too.

And grinned at me.

As she grinned,
I noticed,
Her nipples,
Had hardened,
Turned up at the tips.

My erection hardened,
Turned up at the tip.

A shaft of moonlight,
Broke through the clouds,
Lighted the pentagram,
Beckoned us.

We stepped on to the silk,
Fell to our knees,
Arms wrapped around each other,
My erection,
Firm against her navel.

She leaned back,
Arching.

Her butt checks,
Rested against her heels,
Raising her hips;
She’d shaved;
I appreciate the view;
Licked my lips;
A drop of pre-cum,
Wetted the tip of my erection.

Her knees spread apart.

My hands gripped her hips;
Ready;
To enter her.

A voice from her mouth,
Clearly not hers,
Whispered,
Sexily,
“Wait,
Until the clock,
Begins to strike.”

A voice from my mouth,
Clearly not mine,
Growled,
“Of course.”

My mouth bent,
Forward,
To her nipples.

My tongue,
Flicked,
Tasted,
Teased.

My teeth,
Nipped,
Nibbled,
Teased.

I sucked;
Tasting
Sweetness.

While,
My erection,
Grew;
Waited;
Its tip,
Parting,
Her lips —
Not yet entering.

Suddenly,
I realized,
I wasn’t controlling,
My mouth;
Nor holding back,
My erection.

And,
As I felt,
(More than heard),
The first strike,
Of the clock,
At midnight;
My erection,
Still growing,
(Under control by
Whatever had,
Taken over,
From me),
Began,
To force,
Between her lips,
Into her cunt;
It was a tight fit,
(It had to have,
Hurt her),
The sensation I felt,
Was heightened,
By my observing,
Physically feeling,
Experiencing,
Without the need,
Of actually doing.

From the look in her eyes,
I knew something else,
Now controlled,
Her body.

Watching her face,
As whatever controlled me,
Forced,
My cock into her,
Pulled,
It out of her,
Pounded,
It back into her;
In time to the clock striking;
Allowed me to experience,
My body’s heightening,
Arousal —
Without being responsible,
For what was being done to her.

As the last stroke,
Of midnight approached,
I felt my cock swelling,
My balls swelling,
My chest tightening,
My breath panting,
And sweat dripping,
Off my nose,
Splashing on her,
Cunt,
Joining the moisture,
Lubricating my cock,
Ramming in and out,
Of her.

Her back was arching,
My pelvis,
Tightened against hers.

And,
With the last,
(The twelfth),
Strike,
Of the clock,
I felt,
First her cunt tighten,
Sound my cock,
Then my ejaculation,
Spewed into her.

The light slowly,
Dimmed out,
In he eyes.

My vision,
Slowly,
Dimmed to black.

And,
Then,
Brightened,
Back,
Showing me two things =

I was home.

I was controlling my own body.



This group of interrelated poems now has reached six.

http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/73509-she-was-a-witch-for-the-halloween/

http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/131827-she-was-a-witch-here-is-part-two-of-the/

http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/152515-t-was-a-bloody-drink-to-please-hell/

http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/181254-she-was-a-witch----part-three/

https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/240717-equinox/