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Image for the poem Spincycle

Spincycle

The appliance
sputters and spits
to sudden death,
no longer functioning
to clear the nocturnal stains
that grace our garments
in the evidence of passion
 
We wander the showrooms
in search of a worthy substitute
to occupy the chore
of the empty hamper
that sits by our feet
 
The efficiency of the modern machine
may run too smooth
for the assistance required
to elevate these laundry sessions
 
The trial run
of the first wash,
will be the only indicator
to verify if we chose wisely
 
Your bottom
planted to the cold surface,
wide to an early feeding
to precede plugging in
to the receptive parting
 
A beep to shift the cycle
from rinse to spin,
stuffing the full length in
to greet the pleasure of your grin
 
That gentle spin
shifting gears,
rotating faster
to jostle you
against the tight fit,
thumb loosely
agitating your clit
 
The vibrations subtle
- but effective
to rock you  
the way you like,
to the positioning
of my delayed slide out
that hovers at the opening
before pushing in again
to the snug grip
and vocal reaction
of your review.
 
 
 
 
Written by Tenderloin
Published
Author's Note
Since I have to replace the old washing machine, I might as well try and enjoy the experience with a flight of fancy.
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