Stroking Him Real Good (Stephen King)

Yes, I suppose you do like those midnight manly hot bedded desires, the Johns with busted assess in your video shop you play
No matter what you say move me closer to let the masses know which way your limp dick sways
Everyone knew this on lush
I even made you that poem you looked it over then you told me to just hush
So here is that poem from so long ago
It made me feel beneath my craft, but as your Ghost Writer that was where your head was at, the way you flowed
I only asked you to right your wrong
No sense of trying to stick your faggot chest out that respect is way pass gone
Yes, I suppose you do like, and I will attest, not have any ovaries, hell not even a cunt
I am only telling the truth and being up front
Lift the glasses up and tell these people on here I am lying
The last time I checked I do not tell lies to discredit, or cruise on a broomstick when I'm flying
 
Here Is That Poem I Was Asked To Ghost Write By Mr. Downlow
 
Another man stroking your carnal fires
You bed of down low desires
Like a moth to his flame your secret to indulge passion for the harder gender
Your hushed secrets are safe with me, as you become the hip bender
Tell me now, how it feels to have a male kissing upon a Horror Dom Knight’s pale skin
His tongue to your ear slowly dipping it in
 
His calloused hands roaming over your nudity, your hands to his buttocks pulling him closer, your paid lover
You look into his eyes as embracing passion between you two hover
He asked you how you would like it on your knees or in his King size bed
The question you asked him, who first gives head
 
Oh, my Dom Knight, such a down low life and your chosen ones
Such a whore in the mask of a poetic faggot, your showtime has only just begun
Would you like to put my pink Victoria Secret panties on, you know to get your man in the mood, oh yes, they look perfect on you as I knew they would  
While you are stirring your pot you can arch your back while taking your big daddy’s wood
Dance into the flames of my game of throne
I would love to watch while Lucifer’s piss into your mouth, while you choke on his hellish stones
Listen to the hounds of hell they call my name in the cloak of twilight
The piercing of his dildo
Hum a Cheetos up your asshole, well what do you know
I suppose you do more with those orange treats then just simply eat
Slopping on his knob inch by inch, it is quiet disgusting to watch two men dick slinging between the sheets
 
Stuffing your balls deep inside his mouth
Wider he parts your rectum and allow your man’s toy to fiddle dum fiddle dee your erected North, his fingers plowing south
He flips you over its your sucking time
Your ghoulish lover lifts your ball gag, unzipping his pants, the stench of his twin sacs, like shit, but you still craving the taste of his piss on the tip, past your lips shall twine  
Mm.. let me see you suck him harder my Dom Knight
Yes.. yes.. grab his balls and bobb your head with all your might
 
This is how your life should had been
And now I believe you from your discovery of wanting male flesh from why back when
To have taken a wife, was by duty and not to please
Lying to her when you could not perform your manly husband needs
You preferred to have been on your knees, a man's balls swinging in your face lost in the hunger of his thrusting tease
Lifting those glasses as he squirted his pearly stream all over your face
Wait… hold on… don’t push him back by his upper thighs, I paid to see you swallow his drooling globs so you can tell your other boy toys how a man essence tastes
Which one are you, the green one or the blind one
Whichever, I am sure your lover likes the way you made him cum
 
I would, like to see you and RuPaul get it on… should I pay for that show as well, pervert  
Who likes to dick squirt his nutt all over a man’s face for all your trifling ass’ worth
 
You downlow bitch
 
Smooches...
 
This Is What That Downlow Bitch Decided To Go With Instead,,
 
 
 
Sent: Wed, Jul 18, 2018 at 11:57 PM
Subject: Lush Stories - New message from Adagio
Please do not reply to this email.
 
A new message has been sent to you from Adagio.
 
Do what ever you want to it...yes, add, delete or change.
 
Al
 
 
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Sent: 18 Jul 2018
 
That poem is very beautiful...I love it, it's mysterious...do you want me to tweak? Be advised it is hard to tweak a poem when it is already this good, truly
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Sent: 18 Jul 2018
 
can you do anything with it?
 
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Sent: 18 Jul 2018
 
This is simply beautiful. I feel the passion, the desire, the forbidden list, and the temptation.
I love it!
 
 
I Give You The Stars You Gave Me The Moon
Looked up toward the sky, you’re gone too soon
Melancholy Mood
No Spiritual food
Separation Blues
No just dues
 
Queen has lost her crown
No silent whispers to take me down
Spin me around
Breathless anticipation as my feet touches ground
Uplift me, no words needed ever to be said
Star has fallen, Moon has fled
 
No comfort to please
No emotional tease
This feeling has brought me down to my knees
Darn, can I say that again
Double Darn, displaying emotions can sometimes be an earthly sin
The death of self
The flow of mental juices, was worth more than wealth
 
No passionate end
No ear to lend
I give up, I give in
Shouldn’t even let that quite dance begin
Got caught
Nurse to heal the world, true emotions as I mentally sought
 
Feel like my own patient trying to cure myself
A quick recovery, once I learn to place those lingering feelings back on a shelf
Thief of Hearts strikes again
Captured my heart, soul, as he gently caressed my skin
I want my heart back
He covets my mind beautifully in his charismatic attack
What a perfect poetic knack
 
Handsome Cupid with a straight shot of his bow and arrow
Bulls Eye, fallen sparrow
My heart, it’s most likely kept in his back pocket
He has the key to unlock my emotions, euphoric feelings, more powerful than the blast of a skyrocket
As the congregation says, oh well
It appears I have to creep back to the scene of the crime to get my heart back, if I’m successful, only time will tell
 
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Sent: 18 Jul 2018
 
For whom the moon told, of darkness fires,
that kindle the briers of our lusting souls,
as we take that is which is ours,
in our twisted shop of tomes.
 
Scribbling from our tongue's palate,
pantomiming our mortal thirst
with a witching tale to tell,
as friars and nuns in head veils.
 
With nibble and bites through the night,
'neath covers of arousing shudders,
where the moths are hypothesize
as the doors shut wide.
 
In a little apse on the altar,
through eyes of our erotic kiss
rehearsing a script's reminisce,
as friars and nuns in head veils.
 
In genuflection of coven's swoon,
as wandering mist crave moon
with shadows where we hewn.
playing the devil's bassoon.
 
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Cheers,
Lush Admin