deepundergroundpoetry.com
Secrets
There was an odour of pussy and desperation in Secrets
which permeated the beer and made me consider sobriety
men sat at the bar chatting to the girls
convincing themselves there was an attraction
but what woman was attracted to a life devoted to masturbating?
The girls were sexy
but in the most transparent way
with no honesty in their eyes
and without that
how's a man to come?
“I like your shirt” she said.
But I knew it was business
I stopped her routine by asking "How much for a dance?".
“£20, baby, but if you want some bubbly it’s £35.” she cooed.
“I’m driving” I lied as I polished off my seventh beer
She led me to a booth and sat me down on a sofa
which probably held more DNA than the police
she started dancing to some soulless music
why can’t they dance to Bach?
I began to think about leaving
but I didn’t have the money for a taxi
and, besides, I had a hardon now
which was slowly breaking the fibres of my jeans
she slowly pulled off her g-string and lay down on her back
this is where everything changed
you show a man a new pussy and things change
he wants to see it
eat it
and fuck it
she mounted my lap
began grinding her bony arse into my balls
then she turned and arched into my front
she took two fingers and dragged them down her lips
it was torture and she knew it
my cock knew it too
he was screaming “Tell me to fuck you! Tell me to fuck you now!”
just like every other cock that been in that room
but the request never came
and nor did I
moments later I was back on the street
horny, frustrated and broke
I’d be back next week.
which permeated the beer and made me consider sobriety
men sat at the bar chatting to the girls
convincing themselves there was an attraction
but what woman was attracted to a life devoted to masturbating?
The girls were sexy
but in the most transparent way
with no honesty in their eyes
and without that
how's a man to come?
“I like your shirt” she said.
But I knew it was business
I stopped her routine by asking "How much for a dance?".
“£20, baby, but if you want some bubbly it’s £35.” she cooed.
“I’m driving” I lied as I polished off my seventh beer
She led me to a booth and sat me down on a sofa
which probably held more DNA than the police
she started dancing to some soulless music
why can’t they dance to Bach?
I began to think about leaving
but I didn’t have the money for a taxi
and, besides, I had a hardon now
which was slowly breaking the fibres of my jeans
she slowly pulled off her g-string and lay down on her back
this is where everything changed
you show a man a new pussy and things change
he wants to see it
eat it
and fuck it
she mounted my lap
began grinding her bony arse into my balls
then she turned and arched into my front
she took two fingers and dragged them down her lips
it was torture and she knew it
my cock knew it too
he was screaming “Tell me to fuck you! Tell me to fuck you now!”
just like every other cock that been in that room
but the request never came
and nor did I
moments later I was back on the street
horny, frustrated and broke
I’d be back next week.
Published 3rd Apr 2012
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 5
reading list entries 1
comments 4
reads 1424
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
3rd Apr 2012 7:38pm
that you've only been writing for a short while.. this is fully publishable. if i had one critique it would be the 'and' in the 4th line from the end; i think it's unnecessary, but wow. it's fantastic to see this entirely believable gritty poetry. [:
3rd Apr 2012 8:08pm
Personally I think this needs a bit of an overhaul, but it's taking shape!
3rd May 2012 11:41pm
I always enjoy reading your poetry. The way u write is wonderful;) keep it up!
4th May 2012 7:12am
