her name was Grace daughter of the school's nurse but in the sophomore locker room after phys ed the boys called her Tubesock because she was known to take a foot or more into her superhuman mouth from time to time & my time was a quiet wednesday afternoon when school let out early for a faculty meeting & no one was left in the administrative wing except their children
"I want you to possess me" she led me a trembling ape into a medical supplies closet full of gauze & the scent of latex (the latter curiously adding girth to my ******* for years since) i must've been dreaming or i'd found the ideal mixture of breakfast vitamin capsules & perfect stride during my daily phys ed mile because good god she was down on her little red knees incredible mouth already on **** through pants unbuttoning them swiftly with one hand actual tongue actual girl actual sweet lips actual **** which she then quickly released from a too-small sports bra during the hardening of the meat slug slipping it smiling in/out of her mouth-soul in my head i could only hear synths screaming saxophones bass drums maracas permeating percussion rhythm the closet a dark conch shell resonating shifting vibrating like the uncarpeted floor of a dance hall
proud, brave Tubesock taking my pink ***** in as far as it would go radiating like a sun teeth to tonsil cheek to collarbone with a deep southern-gospel choral hum vertical as a sword-swallower performing under a streetlamp horizon my legs silent & stiff as she sang into it glancing up at me at the base making the smallest choking sound/lady like fumes of her own ****** arousal blooming/flower like into my nostrils from her scarlet tights her left hand holding my coin purse/doorknob like gently pulling twisting kneading her right hand inside her own self seeking a fire or some source of heat in the drafty dark closet
when i came too quickly (still a victory in my mind) shooting my cannon smoke into the midnight of her mouth adrenalin shivering in my shoulders and throat my hand locked around a lock of her crimson hair she unplugged herself & without wasting a drop smiled back up at me returned the unstiffened dagger to the cold nest of my boxer briefs but kept kneeling in the dark closet split in half by the thin crack of light i created as i emerged among the sound of seven hundred bells to kiss the soul of revolution a brand new too-tall man holding a lamb bigger than god himself standing on steel pistols for legs shouting cursing beating my breast under the sharp fluorescent light of a high school highway