A grunt-fueled thrust--the initial plunge--
Sinks the length in to the hilt.
A startled cry.
A breathy groan.
And not a single ounce of guilt.
A pleasured quake travels up my spine,
As I sink it in again.
She twists and writhes;
Contorts and sighs.
This is my moment of Zen.
She whimpers now! She's almost there!
And the wetness begins to pool.
I touch my lips onto her own,
Then wipe away the drool.
Her eyes go crossed; a drawn-out sigh,
And she lets out her final breath.
My ****** strikes as I withdraw the knife;
Drinking in ******** death.
Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 5:08 PM UTC
A grunt-fueled thrust--the initial plunge--
Sinks the length in to the hilt.
A startled cry.
A breathy groan.
And not a single ounce of guilt.
A pleasured quake travels up my spine,
As I sink it in again.
She twists and writhes;
Contorts and sighs.
This is my moment of Zen.
She whimpers now! She's almost there!
And the wetness begins to pool.
I touch my lips onto her own,
Then wipe away the drool.
Her eyes go crossed; a drawn-out sigh,
And she lets out her final breath.
My ****** strikes as I withdraw the knife;
Drinking in ******** death.
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