The Next Ride

A child, tripping daisies, he is
I smile, ties to his table, bound by jump ropes
Bright lights and fuzzy haze
Feathers,

Buzzing pleasure toys, skin
Metal music in the back ground,
Wine and sin,
Pleasure pills from home pharmacies

Youthful pretend, his choice
Pinches and pain, cream and syrup
Whips of thorned rose stems
Engaging demeanor,

Light scratch, tantalize
Heat, within
Leather and velvet
Brushing my skin,

He pushes inside,
No oxygen, red
Biting, pounding
Flesh, drenched

Pleasure explosion,
Contained inside
Beautiful bruise, abrasion
And I can't wait,
For the next ride