Men of sin are the shadows that lurk among the city lights where the signs don’t just tell you about coffee they energise you as they feast on lobe with sidewalk tales of how men have left their manners at home, drowning in pints discussing the grim details of how;
He ****** her twice only but the other night, peering with a grin because little do they know his lust was a story of latex, teeth, claw and a sharpened knife.
Smile did he as she presented herself half alive, half dead - hanging off the edge of the bed, the twisting and weaving of his stomach as he digested pure disgust and bliss all at once.