deepundergroundpoetry.com
Letter to my Cuck
It’s like
the less I need to do
to get you off,
the more erotic it becomes.
I’m not going to give you the things
those other men take
while you’re watching.
Is their dick size important?
Of course.
You never believed otherwise…
except when you were young and so completely
incapable of accepting your situation.
Your length. Your girth. Your stamina.
Now, you understand who you are
because I’ve shown you.
You understand I’ve no use for your
prick in my pussy.
That’s why I jerk you off
after my lovers
fill me up.
That’s why you watch their hot cum
dripping from my devastated
cunt.
That’s why you nut so sufficiently
when I stroke you so softly.
It doesn’t matter if they’re waiters
or yardwork attendants.
It doesn’t matter if they’re teens or
thirty-year-old fathers.
What matters
is they take me and
use me.
What matters
is they FUCK me…
and you can tell when I’m coming
because I’m gushing
on their cocks.
I know you like that…
the sticky thick batter that
cakes to their shafts and clumps
in the creases of their slap-happy scrotums.
You let them ram me
into convulsions.
I like
the way
those guys look
at you when they finish me.
They know I’m unprotected.
They’re appalled you allow it.
Still, it gives them incentive
to breed me.
I don’t ever bother
taking plan B.
You don’t expect that,
do you?
You know I’ll get pregnant
eventually.
I just lie there after they leave…
let my pussy leak freely
down the seam of my crack
where you’ll slurp up
my creamy river.
You’re hard when I
finally reach for you.
You’ve been ready
for a while, aching
for relief.
And I know by the sheen of
your slick, spongy knob,
this is going to be
quick and
easy…
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