sauntered down to the very private hurt me hurt you club the waft of perfume fragrant in the air ***** music in the distance
the club a place for hard players lovers of voluptuous ****** cruelties
as i approach the dark glitter lights of hidden casbah's dark blood dens i apprehend laughing shrieks and tender coos
i hear an old refrain
let me entertain you let me make you mine and if your real good ill make you feel good and we will have a real good time
trawling hungry masochists soft furniture girls and boys holding impossible posses down side up embraced by moon skulled sadists bending bending oh snap, blood plumes again and again and again
popped by big cocked poppers arms and legs piled high soaked in drool and **** *** yum silky flesh habanero hot blood kisses scurred like a fat lizard slow cooked fall off the bone melt in your mouth tastes just like chicken
stamina unimaginable oh the blade sir as her sweet **** convulsed in endless waves of crimson plush shimmers
she faked death sweetly made believe she couldn't breath eyes mute mouth gapping careless hungry for silky flesh goes down like a butter scotch float fizz
posed on the slab legs wide like a bridge exposing tender flanks inner thighs and pinkish slave feet scorched tremulous from adorations flames catharsis all rocky horror picture show wrapped in each other like spools
she writhed and cried another one across the mouth please hard harder harder i need it sir her yins edge a yang bottoming the top almost homicide her hearts desire she groans like a wind through a canyon
blood mouth saliva gives way to grateful release and dreadful tears that vanquish like rocks through a window as she bled and ****** a creel of ***** butter butter butter her mouth a tongue of heaven hot house girl in a blaze dancing hell ***** gorgeous !
have you been To the hurt me hurt you club a twisted snarl of desire a trundle of lust in Satan's back room party while a tarnished dark glitter sign glows forth in bold grotesque welcome if you hunger for kisses that drown oh so wrong the sign it self a neon headless ******* fire swaying her hips gently at the arched entrance
a golden voice sings
let me entertain you let me make you mine and if your real good ill make you feel good and we will have a real good time
My poems remain explorations of the subconscious ****** If i where a film maker or a novelist you would see me telling a story, not judge me, although i admit to my paraphilias These poems are lunar anamorphic streams of consciousness from the deep chaotic subterranean glitz of transgressive impulses we all share Read them if you dare...You might find that part of yourself that you don't want you to know about and then again you may feel more complete some how if you do....I always loved that dark thing that sleeps with in me