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Edna Sweetlove May 2015
EDNA:  I believe you recently had a gay little adventure, Vladimir. So why don’t you tell me all about it? I can see you are simply dying to get it off your chest…

VLADIMIR:  Well, Edna, it happened like this. I hadn't cruised the ***** toilet in the park for months and I was ******* randy, absolutely dying for a really good session, so I thought I'd go along here after the pub shut and see what was up, see if there was any ******* ******* action. I wore some **** ****** under my jeans, you know the sort of stuff: red open crotch *******, suspenders and black fishnet stockings. My **** kept dribbling as I was in the pub, just thinking of what might happen down the toilet.  At closing time, I left the pub, my carrier bag in my hand, with a big anticipatory bulge in my pants.

EDNA [gulp]  And then what happened, Vladimir, dear?

VLADIMIR:  Once I got to the toilet, I was surprised there was no one inside, but there were a few nearby shadows in the park, people smoking cigarettes, walking round, looking for it.  Once in the toilet, I selected the cleanest cubicle and took off my jeans and shirt and put them into the carrier bag. I replaced my normal shoes and socks with the white high heeled women's shoes I had waiting in the carrier. Then I waited in the cubicle for someone to come into the toilet.

After only a few moments, I heard footsteps and I looked under the door to see who was there at the ******.  It was a short muscular looking man wearing jeans and Doc Martens. I could see he wasn't *******, but just standing there, though I couldn't see his face. I opened the cubicle door and he turned around to see who was there, so I opened the door wide open so he could see me standing there in the stockings, suspenders and silk ******* with my stiff **** sticking out of the hole in them.

He was about forty and very butch looking with close cropped hair and I could see his **** hardening as he looked at me.  I went over to him and took his **** in my hand and he grabbed hold of mine and started rubbing it.  I got down on my knees and took his short, fat, uncircumcised **** in my mouth; it tasted salty and ******* gorgeous. He grabbed hold of the back of my head and forced his **** deep down my throat nearly making me gag.  I could smell the odour of his ***** hair and I loved it.  He said, "Keep ******* it, you ***** ****, or I'll pull your ******* head off." I loved him talking ***** like that to me.

EDNA [getting a bit excited]  That seems very bold of you both.  What happened next?

VLADIMIR:  In what seemed no time at all, I felt him tense and then I got an enormous mouthful of his hot *****.  I'd never known anyone come so much, he must have had a week's worth in his *****.  After he'd come, he took his **** out of my mouth, put it away and zipped himself up.  I started to get to my feet, but he pushed me backwards onto the filthy floor.  ‘You're lucky I don't knock your face in, you ****,’ he said as he went out.  I love my men to be a bit rough with me, so I was very excited by this.  I half hoped he would punch me but he didn't.

EDNA: [wiping forehead] Well, that’s really very interesting. Did you go home then, dear, or were you still up for it, as the expression goes, Vladimir?    

VLADIMIR:  I got up and dusted myself down.  I could taste his come in my mouth, it was ******* delicious.  I was still incredibly excited, my **** was absolutely rigid and I knew I just needed to give it a couple of rubs and I'd shoot my ***, but I wanted more ***, and I knew once I came, I would just feel like going home.  So I went back into my cubicle and waited to see if anyone else came in.

After about five minutes I heard footsteps, followed by more footsteps again and I looked under the door a second time.  There were two men standing there and, by straining my neck, I could see they were groping each other.  One had one hand on the other's **** and his other hand on his **** and the other man was working on the first man's **** as well.  

I let the door open and they both swung round as they hadn't known there was anyone else in the toilet.  They saw me and looked relieved it wasn't a policeman lurking in there.  One was quite young, about twenty or twenty five, but he was a bit skinny and effeminate-looking.  The other one was much older, about fifty, but he was much better looking and I could see he had a huge **** on him.  I walked over to them in my **** rigout and joined in with the wanking.  They both started feeling my **** under my *******.

I turned round and bent over, my hands on the toilet cubicle doorposts, stuck my **** out invitingly and pulled my ******* down to my knees.  ’Why don't you **** me?’ I said, bold as brass.  The older man, the one with the big ****, left the young skinny guy and took up the offer I had made.  He undid his trousers and pulled his underpants down to reveal the full length of his enormous **** and his big hairy *****.  He spat on his hand and rubbed it on his ****, but he needn't have bothered because I had already lubed my **** when I was waiting in my cubicle.  

He slipped his big **** up my moist ******* without much difficulty and then started ******* me gently.  I told him to **** me harder, to **** me harder than he had ever ****** anyone in his life, so he started to really ram it up my hole.  God, I loved it.

EDNA [sweating with mounting excitement and unable to resist touching herself down there]  Mmmmm. I wish I’d been there to see that, I really, really do.  But don’t let me disturb your narrative flow, darling….

VLADIMIR:   Then the young skinny guy got down on his knees in front of me and took my **** in his mouth.  Each time the man who was giving it to me ****** hard into me, I jolted forward and rammed my **** deep into the skinny guy's mouth.  I was moaning with ecstasy as I got ****** and ****** by two complete strangers.  The guy with the big **** couldn't last long and soon shot his load up my **** and as he did it he said, ‘O Christ, I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm shooting my ***** up your ******* *******.’  This made me incredibly excited and I came off in the younger man's mouth.  The skinny youngster was wanking his own **** as he knelt in front of me and I know he came as I felt the ***** splashing on my stockinged legs.

As he removed his still fat **** from my gaping hole, a stream of the older man's ***** ran down my legs.  He said he wished his wife would let him **** her in the ******* like that.  I went to kiss him but when he smelled the ***** on my face from the butch one I'd ****** off earlier, he wasn't having any of it and left with a mumbled goodbye.

The younger man had now got to his feet and was standing in front of me as he buttoned himself up.  He said ‘We can wait a few minutes and then we can do it again if you like.  I'd love you to **** me, you've got a lovely ****.’  But it was no good, the magic had passed and I told him to ****** off.

So I went back into the cubicle, got changed back into my ordinary clothes and left the toilet.  I could feel ***** oozing out of my ******* and I could taste the first load in my mouth still.  I had a smile on my face. It had been a great night out.

EDNA:  [removing her hand from inside her ******* as unobtrusively as possible and trying to disguise the fact she has just had a cataclysmic ******]  Wow, that’s really a very exciting story. It’s made old Edna quite hot and bothered. You really are a very naughty boy, Vladimir.

VLADIMIR: Would you like me to tell you about what happened to me in the old cinema down by the docks?

EDNA: [still throbbing a bit] No, dear, that will be the subject of another interview. We don't want to over-excite our readers, do we?

*THE END
Becca DeMateo Oct 2013
WARNING:
A very very ***** parody of the song "Lips of a angel" by Hinder
(listen to song while reading, it will make more since)
(See notes for more details)


Honey why you queefing tonight.
It's kinda hard to **** right now.
And honey why you queefing,
is everything okay?
I like the way your whispering eye sounds.

Well, my ***** in your *******.
Sometimes I wish it wasn't.
I guess we never really lubed enough.

I heard you like to play with toys.
You're screaming my name,
was that a *****?
Coming from the lips of and angel,
the way you ***** it makes me seep.

And i, never want to see your brown eye.
But girl you make my **** hard and playful.
With the "lips" of an angel.

It's funny that you're queefing, right now.
And yes, i've dreamt of this too.
Dose he know you're ******* with me,
can we please just try.
Baby please don't say you have to poo.

Well my ***** in your *******.
Sometimes i wish it wasn't.
i guess we never really lubed enough.

I heard you like to play with toys.
You're screaming my name,
was that a *****?
Coming from the "lips" of a angel,
the way you ***** it makes me seep.
And i, never wanted to see your brown eye.
But girl you make my **** hard and playful.
With the "lips" of a angel.

I heard you liek to play with toys.
you're screaming my name.
was that a *****?
Coming from the lips of a angel
the way you ***** it makes me seep

And I never wanted to see your brown eye.
But girl you make my **** hard and playful,
with the "lips" of and angel.

I never wanted to see you're brown eye.
But girl you make my **** hard and playful,
with the lips of a angel.

Honey why you qeefing tonight.
I wrote this as a project. My best friend dan told me he was working on a parody of this song but could'nt quite figure it out. I told him I could do.
It took me 10 minutes...
I am truly sorry because this is super gross, and i know it is highly inappropriate. But this parody reminds me of so many fun times in my past with my favorite people in the world.
ENJOY :P
Ayeshah Apr 2013
I step up to the curtains
they weren't open yet,
but I could hear the melody of the music
and
I listen curiously,
as
the man performing before me spoke,
he used words to address me as a
Afrocentric --Soultress
with a little bit of Boriqua aurora ,
I bow my head and laugh.
The curtains lift as I walk out & up
I open my mouth softly
I tells of lovers wrapped entwined entangled
as
sheets become hiding places as lips taste of honey
from valleys of lustrous milky--juices
from a our oasis
of ******* *******,
and
overflowing valleys fill to the
brink with sweets raunchiness hehehe...
I step to the right to
look at the crowd
making sure they get the effect of how he tasted
as
I hold the mic
I gentle massage it
while motioning
to a man sitting right in front,
he licks his lips
and
I then turn my head to my left
addressing
the parties sitting right up front on my left,
I speak to them of the swells of his back and how
my nails dug deep as he enter me swiftly
with his Mandingo shaft...
how his blue eyes seeped into my brown eyes
while
he drove deeper inside of my mahogany velvet box,

a women in front crossed her legs tightly
and
wiggled in her seat,
I bow my head so I don't laugh,
I watch the center crown as
I explain how he  the man with this enormous
Mandingo ****
stuffs it down my throat
and
I **** him in choking as he trys to insert it deeper,
I'm lavishing up every bit of his essence, 
 the couple in the center hold hands even tighter
and
look at each other with a shared memory.
I flow with the music softly slowly
I connect with each member of my audience,
sharing with them the way he bent me over his stool inside
his photo lab
and
kissed between my cheeks as he spread me open
and
softly fingered my ***
while using the other to finger to lavishly assault
my chocolate velvety muffin,
as
I moaned he readily spread me,
telling me as he moved in front of me saying be still,
he tied me up to this tall stool, the crowd leans in
as if ready to hear the next verse,
I give in after a moments pause,
sharing with them how he spread my legs
and
tied them right after he spread
my hands on each leg of his stool.
In his photo lab he lubed up moving his hand up
&
down
his light skinned shaft,
I watched
and
longed for him to touch me again,
the radiance crowd
sitting on my left seemed
to be thinking as I did,
"is he going to stuff his **** back inside my mouth,"
I speak again
seeing how their all
longing to know he did in fact slowly 
walk up to me, lifting my head and saying open up baby,

I did as I was told,
the man sitting in the shadows
on my left
seems
to be stroking his **** as
I proceed to explain in poetic
****** verses
of this tall
high--yellow
black man
with the
blue eyes,
he seems in tuned
so I keep speaking of how
I licked his shaft
then allowed him to slowly meticulously
push
his **** inside my mouth
and
slowly pull out again .
I tell the audience how he ***** my mouth first slowly and then like a beast, he was ready to explode I explain how he grabs the head and stops him self from *******,

I get an
"Ah'awe"
from all the men in the audience
and
I laugh..
but
continued to explain
how he didn't want to just yet...
poetically
I explain how
he wanted to ready me for his assault
on my sweet *****,
using words to describe it ;
like mahogany rose buds or petals.
Explaining
how his Mandingo shaft
would be his weapon...
They seem eager to know more,
I tell a tale of how this light skinned brotha had me tied and teased me in his photo lab,
explaining how he pulled out a ***** just
as big as
his manhood was
and
while eating me he slide it inside of me
as
I quivered and shook he'd stop,
it seemed right when I was about to ***,
he seem to laugh out loud at my misery,
he knew just what he was up to, the audience seemed to get deathly quite,
seems even the music died
as explained the rough treatment I received at the hands of this blue eyed light skinned devil
of a man,
He licked me even at timed used his fingers along with this *****,

I explained to my audience
how he stopped his assault
on me as he slide his Mandingo up and down
my *** teasing my *******
putting the tip of his head in and then taking it out,
I told them how he finally stopped for a second,
then he entered my *** with the ***** and slide his 12" ****
deep inside my ***** causing me to cry out,
I tried to stop him but my hands were tied and that of my ankles as well,

and

he moved with such force and swiftness
I couldn't utter a word,
the more he moved the more
my body betrayed me as it heated up
from the inside out as
if he ignited something new and longing within me
he moved fast and ferociously in and out of me in sync
with the enormous ***** until
I myself was begging for him not to stop,
I
poetically
spoke memories & fantasies out loud,
letting my audience
know how
I
came so close to a ****** I've never ever got to feel or come close to feeling again,
I acted as if there was more but I then kissed the mic and walked off stage ....
  
  Another
Story
perhaps
another night
&
I'll
KISS THE MIC!
Always Me Ayeshah ®
Copyright ©
Ayeshah
K.C.L.N 1977 - Present YEAR(s)
**All right reserved ®
Edna Sweetlove May 2015
The bar behind the theatre was nearly empty apart from a couple of gay boys.
Well, it was a gay bar, so no ******* surprise there.
I glanced at the fat one and decided, 'No thank you very much,'
as I have noticed fat people often smell unpleasantly,
maybe it's the sweat trapped between their ****-cheeks that does it.

But the other one was very cute and I decided I would have him.
In those days, it was regarded as 'de rigeur' to buy a lad a lager and lime
before dragging him home with you for some nookie,
so I coughed up for a half pint with charm and grace.
Sadly, he was no great shakes in the conversational stakes,
but was I after intellectual stimulation? No, I ******* wasn't.

Anyway, once I'd checked his passport to ensure he was over-age
(no one wants any ******* trouble from the bigoted morality squad)
I dragged him back to my elegant bachelor ****-pad
and stripped him off to investigate his lithe little body;
a nice smooth little **** and a reasonably clean ****.
What more can you want from a one night stand?

After a bit of a damp snog and a good old *****,
I lubed him up and gave his *** a right good poking.
He moaned a bit, but then who wouldn't moan,
with seven and a half inches of thick gristle shoved
all the way up their sphincter? I know I would.

After I had filled his rear end with love juice a couple of times,
I felt that kicking out was the name of the game.
Generously, I gave him a half-crown for his bus fare
as he said he was a bit short of cash, being unemployed.
It was the least I could do, as he had three miles to go home,
and it was raining cats and ******* dogs outside.

After he'd left, I checked out the bed sheets (as you would)
and was irritated to find a few skidmarks there,
or they may have been where I wiped my fingers
after having eaten a bar of Cadbury's Dairy Milk.
A quick sniff confirmed my worst suspicions though.
'Ah well, true love always comes at a price', I reflected,
as I scraped the worst bits off with a nail file.
am i ee Sep 2015
"i ain't got no fat bootay.
i am just a little husky."
she said to me.
that big fat bus with the big fat yellow bootay.

"i'm a thinkin'
i'm gittin' REAL tired
of all your verse."
said she.

"you should live the life i do.
yes you should.
just for one day.
grubby little kids kicking the back of my seats,
hanging out the windows
screaming so loud.

"crying and punching
throwing each other's gear.
boxing an ear.

"picking and fightin'
and bullying every year.
wet boots and sand
poking me in the tummy
with their little stupid umbrellas.
wiping snot on my clean seats.

those high schoolers
smoking in back,
tobacco and joints
and drinking & stuff
thinking i don't know it.

well the he-ing and she-ing,
on trips, to games and more,
i won't go into here.
what do they think i am?
a rolling motel
hotel
super 6?

it's enough to drive me right
out of my mind here.

"i used to be shiny and bright and new,
and i was so happy
to finally get out on the town.
then i realized for what i was made
year after year,
driving around,
the very same trip
all over town.
more than enough
to drive anyone insane.

"if i had wrists,
i assure you i'd slit em',
for you can never imagine,
what is it like,
to be me."
says that big fat bus with the big fat yellow bootay.

okay so now... i'm starting to feel
just a little bad,
all the mad verse
i hurled
at her
all of those days.

so i say,
to that big fat bus,
with the big fat yellow bootay,
"why wait around?
set yourself free,
before you end up in the big fat bus
cemetery!

now in some other time,
in some other life,
i start to see,
i could see ,
the possibility,
of what good friends
we could have been.

i would have waxed her
well, brightened her up
shined up the grill
made those white walls sparkle.

i coulda detailed her
inside and out.
checked her oil
and tweaked those points
making sure those
spark plugs would light.

rotated her tires and
lubed all her joints.
windexed her glass
front, side and back.

so now
still feeling a little bad
i say,
to that big little-husky bus
with the big little-husky yellow bootay,
"go single,
go solo,
but GO NOW!"

taking my advice to heart,
that big fat bus,
with her big fat yellow bootay,

she discharged that last child,
and driver so worn,
and bided her time,
till well after dark.

she took a quick,
furtive look around,
stealthily rolled  
out of the yard.

once a safe distance away,
set her engine in gear,
and got right the hell
out of here.
right away.

flying down the open roads,
careening around every
sharp curve,
every bend.
tipped on her side,
tires right up off the ground.

shrieking like a madwoman

"it's a good day to die!
i'm finally free!"

"It's a good day to die! mother f-ers" she cried
as she sped down the road.

until,

HEY?
HEEEEYYY?
What's THAT in my way?

OH NO!
it's a BIG FAT BUS !
with a BIG FAT YELLOW BOOTAY!
and it's in MY WAY!

...brakes stomped through the floor with all her might,
smoking tires and squealing rubber, and skidding down the highway,
way out of control...

more to come ...Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
Big Fat Yellow Bootay has made 2 previous appearances here.

if you have a hankerin' to read from the beginning... see the Collections,  The Manly Cowboy & Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
Danny Valdez Apr 2012
“Are you sure about this? It seems kinda ******’ weird Mike…”
“No man, she’s totally cool. She likes it. I do this, at least, once a week.”
Bobby was hesitant, but Mike insisted he try it out. There had been a big fire in one of the apartment buildings a few weeks ago, the only part left untouched was a storage room under the stairs. She lived in there, he said.
“Usually, you gotta call her on the prepay first…like before you go over. But, for me…see I’m a regular, so she just gave me a key.”
“What so you just go inside?”
“Yeah, dude. Like I said, she likes it. Most of the time she’s all doped up and like, passed out. But like, as long as, like, I show her the money…she just like, tells me to stick it in. She likes it, says it helps wake her up and ****. Really gets her going.”
Mike was breathing hard, as he talked. They were getting close to the burned out building.
“I don’t know man, this seems ******. ******* a ******-******, that lives under some stairs, in a burned out building? I mean, what the **** man? Let’s just go home and **** our wives.”
Mike stopped walking and stood, staring at Bobby, in disbelief.
Slowly he spoke.
“That is...the stupidest thing...I have ever heard you say.”
“How? This is-“
“This…is a ******* adventure *******! A break from the day-to-day, a break from the norm, man. A taste of strange. Now c’mon already! We’re almost there”
They slowly started walking again.
“Well…do other guys in the complex do it?” Bobby asked, kicking a rock.
“Of course man! She’s got like six regulars a week. She’s got that and like, all the guys that just try her once for the hell of it. She does group deals too. The girl like, ****** a bunch of the high school boys before, she told me about that. The state champion on the wrestling team even gave it to her.”
It was amazing how the fire had blackened nearly every inch of the place. But that door beneath the stairs, was still faded blue & white. They walked up to the little door.
“Alright, now…do you wanna go first or second?” Mike asked, fumbling his keys into the door.
“I don’t know. We’ll see man.” Bobby didn’t know if he was really gonna do it.
Opening the door, they found her asleep in a small recliner, too small, it looked like it was made for a child. All miniature and ****. Bobby thought she was gonna look like the Crypt Keeper in a tube top and heels. But to his surprise, she didn’t look half bad, he thought. A real pretty little redhead, in flannel pajama pants, with painted black toenails and a Ramones t-shirt.
“What’s her name?” Bobby asked, nervously thumbing his Levi’s pocket.
“I dunno. Everyone just calls her ‘Easy’.
Mike shook her, trying to wake her up. It kinda worked. She opened her eyes a centimeter, nodded, and mumbled,
“….go ahead baby….zzzzzz...”
“Alright, buddy...I....am gonna go first.” Mike said, stripping down.
Bobby leaned against the wall, between that and the arms of the mini recliner.
Three Dole banana boxes were stacked in the corner. Lubes, condoms, and punched out cigarette butts, covered the top box. With his **** all shiny and lubed up, Mike put it in and got to it. It didn’t take long, two minutes into it and he blew his load. She didn’t move an inch.
“And don’t say anything man! I usually go a lot longer.”
“Hey, I wasn’t gonna-“
“It’s been a week since I ******, so just shut up.”
.She twitched and snored. Track marks on the tops of her feets. Mike reached down and spread apart her ***** lips, looking up and smiling at Bobby.
“Well? Come on dude...slip it in.”
Bobby unzipped his pants and pulled them down to his ankles.
Somehow, his **** was hard. He tore open a ribbed ******, from the pile of them, on the stacked Dole boxes. Bobby slid the ****** down his shaft. The room stunk like a can of expired tuna. Mike was still holding open her ***** lips.
“Mike. Move your hands. Come on, I got it man…”
He did like he was asked and stepped to the side. Stroking himself and grinning big. Bobby slid it in with ease, and began pumping away. Easy moaned with pleasure, at last waking up, her eyes finally open, and looking at who was ******* her.
“Give it to me, Daddy. Give it. **** me good.”
When Bobby finally came, five minutes later, Easy was wide awake. Bobby rolled the ****** off and held it in his hand.
“Do you have a garbage...Miss Easy?”
Mike and Easy both cracked up laughing.
“No. Just throw it behind something. Anywhere, I don’t give a ****.” She said.
Feeling a bit embarrassed, he quickly put his clothes back on. Mike stood, naked still, lighting a smoke for himself and one for Easy too. They were both smiling, rotten-toothed grins. All Bobby wanted was to get home to his wife, the guilt and shame, already eating him up. Easy laughed exhaling her cigarette.
“****. That was just what I needed. Thanks guys. Make him a copy of the key, would ya Mike?” She said, with a hearty, smoker’s cackle.
Bobby stood with his hand on the doorknob.
“See? I told you, Bobby…she likes it.”
PrttyBrd Dec 2014
Gilded cage so small and tiny
Even singing comes out whiny
Stinking of fake fresh and piney
Tis the season
Leaking water warm and briny
With good reason

Christmas cheer and glasses toast
Loved ones smile and laugh and boast
I sit perched upon my post
A tinsled column
Invisible reluctant host
A heart that's solemn

A longing for a love so distant
The melancholy is persistent
A smile could erase it in an instant
On a face cherubic
For my heart is not resistent
It's theraputic

So that smile that is perfection
Is mirrored in my own reflection
Without a thought about rejection
Hallucinations
About the subtlest inflection
In Salutations

Surrounded by the merrily intense
With drunkard tendencies immense
A bar with all accoutrements
They pound tequila
Drinking away the sacraments
Oh yes, I feel ya

Merry time with old Kris Kringle
Guests all lubed enough to mingle
Mistletoe hangs and sleigh bells jingle
Gifts homemade
Tables adourned and glasses tingle
Gold brocade

Still I sit all caged and flightless
Blind to joy all sad and sightless
Drink could make it hurt a mite less
I'm going backward
Laying here all limp and lifeless
Broke and fractured

Surrounded by the fake and vexing
Artificial and quite perplexing
Reality they are rejecting
The devil may care
Bellies bare and muscles flexing
Lost underwear

So ******* dancing to the jukebox
Lost alone here in the boondocks
There is no snow upon the rooftops
Ahead they forge
Find a room before that thing pops
It's so engorged

Neighbor ***** all dressed in orange
Wearing gold to make the poor cringe
Stripping time to fill her syringe
I'll be her hinderance
Still too drunk from her last binge
Faulty remembrance

Ridding riff raff from the party
People still drunk on Bacardi
Noxious gasses burp and farty
With toilets makeshift
Worn out makeup on the smarty
She needs a facelift

Time to let the people go
Too tired to keep watching the show
Drinking hard and walking slow
Verbose yet listless
Honey I don't want to know
It's not my business
121614
not the easiest thing to write, but I do so love a challenge
Poetic T Jun 2015
I undress her slowly, pink tones are seen,
As all the bits are taken away, undone I am
Pleased. I see her now what I saw early that
Week, dam I know this is what I thought,
What friends said I'm in for a treat.

I run out of breath, before the fun has begun,
She gives me that looks like I want to ****
Some one, she is inviting me deep in.

I want to feel her mouth vibrate across me to
Make me ***, but first I want to play with
Her and have some fun.

She lies still why I do what must be done, she
Doesn't mind what I say ***** talk, ****, what
Ever will get me to the finish line, dam this is fun.

I go slow, lubed up she is wet for me, i go faster
I think I'm going to, OUCH I fall out friction burn
To the mushroom, eyes water I check no damage,
I get off wait a few moments to continue the fun.

I think it is time to do what must be done as her
Mouth waits on me, I start I grab her hair, faster
She says with her eyes I know, ******, ****** as I
Skull bash her, O MY GOD I,M BBAANNGG.

I cry out as a tear reaches my eye, in to the bin she
Goes, that's the third one this month. I think I'll
Have to find a real woman that doesn't explode,
Or go flat just when I'm reaching the end of my goal.
Jimmy Kerr Aug 2013
oh, baby, tonight,
the wind's a bit bitter on skin
tonight, the itch strikes
oh, baby i'd so love  
to plug all nature's loose ends
oh when you
crawl to me like that,
knowing you are all lubed
for me, tonight,
there's a crank that goes wild
mark john junor Aug 2013
the aperture opens
low watt bulb hanging on a chain
rocks slowly in a perceptible breeze coming
from a hole in the wall
a dark odor permeates the room
time has been spent here
desperation has sweated its own flavor of fear in this room
laughter that had no joy has spent hours spilled on the floor
evil has romanced good and plundered its favors
on the stained mattress in the corner
left its once ****** form heaving with
the ****** taste of hedonistic self destruction
slow and pure
pleasured for her like a ribbed one
lubed with promises of a hot carnival of sated fantasy

the aperture closes slowly
the view fades into a single grey line
of wary perception
moments tick by
as the room changes faces

the aperture forced open by her deft fingers
spun monkeynuts she is seeking something to occupy her madness with
or she will end up like the rest in the mirror picking skin
'oh god, please don't let me be a skin picker'
she whispers over and over
as she prys and pulls at the thin metal covering
at the thin eyelid of perception

this perception chain
one moment of reality spawns the next
its clarity the passed on poisoned gene pool of all your yesterdays
the languid drifting from year to year
all the treasures gathered turned to dusty memory
all the lovers fled along the ever enduring wind of change
and as your days have burned slowly down
you begin to realize that each had its place in
the tapestry of your life
and here in this last room of your life
you come face to face with what you have created
and it is unrecognizable to your mind

the walls are covered by ever mutating versions
of a dope shooters regrets
of a spike house roll call of thouse who have cashed in
and are now remembered only by there survivors
i open my eye
and look about in the shadow
and leave you there
because you were never there
you discarded your real self in a spent ****** needle
in the alley behind our once happy home
along with the used ******
from your
an ugly little ditty...

note: there is nothing missing, it ends how it ends.
zebra Jan 2019
blood blot
a hideous music
like fixed stars
a chaos of shattered glass
you can hang your hat on

bamboo shards make a ****** wound
gold spun hair
on floral linen
blemished soaking red
like a shaking rat in a cats mouth

Hazels glistening ******; a pretense
salutes celibacy and high end moisturizer toilet paper

to shock simplicities morals
of an excretory affair
a dark chandelier hangs in the balance
torpedo runnels through chambered knots
unleashing treacherous sanity
sins crib
theater of purgation

father forgive her
she took a ****

an idealist without ideals

the grand masturbator
a simulacrum of a lubed god
in nights dragging shade
oracle of a  ruddy opera  and legs over head
flexed crimson wattle rolls

theories invite anti theories
light invites darkness

silence yields
shadows throat
and cacophonous whispers
a grind house temple of gods and demons
in horrendous geometry
of inflicting malice

until the serpent ascends
from black pitch hells
like a bomb through the skull

lusts antidote
waterloo of the soul  
annihilation point
the cadaver smiles
surreal ….a poetry of fragments
Travis Dixon Mar 2011
reality television
doesn’t just sell a vision
it crawls & squirms like
disease-ridden worms
contracted through the eyes
to terrorize the temples
of self & hope, pushing us down
this precipitous ***** of
cannibalization feeding on
station after station & projecting
its virus to every nation
LOOK@ME
LOOK@ME


why?
what ever have you done
beyond sell your being to
the vultures circling the
stumbling corpse of dignity
cackling in the sunny waste
at our utter lack in taste
eroded by the steady stream
of soulless visions hellbent on
sowing never-ending divisions
ENOUGH IS ENOUGH

but it’s never enough
because the machine is lubed
& cheap to boot, all the better
for the execs collecting loot
thus the only prescription
is to denounce this fiction
with the utmost conviction
and step back into
reality.
PK Wakefield Dec 2010
cold                                                                                                                         it,s.
       fluid hard apathy,
the sky drank lubed heat
                                             pasted frosty hands
and
          gargled chirping rushes
                                                        a brown
stiffly
                                                                                       who's arms hold
            fussy ******
                                                      a book is patiently
palm loaded notation

                                             machiavelli

           today,
Travis Green Oct 2022
The moment you rip your shirt
To exhibit your bewitchingly badass ***
Enormously smooth and sinewy chest
Gaudy, glossy, and showstopping abs
How you kiss your killer ripped guns
Flex your monster sun-kissed buns

Steady feeling yourself
Talk red-hot ****** language
That entices me more
My lurid allurer and artful joy
My creative and playful fantasy
How you whip out your indomitable
And enthralling enlarger

Stroke it nice and right
Swing it back and forth
Make it bounce up and down
Swirl it around
Slap it savagely
Make my head spin

Make me succumb to your hung monster trombone
The more I behold your stone-cold growth
The more I drool over your rude lubed-up tube
Your booming musical hoodness
Salivate for your engagingly
Unadulterated and sensational enchantment

Powerfully built pristine Papi
The way you tease me
With your steel slithering heat
Apply maximum electrifying pressure
Make me wanna worship your devouring
And high-powered divineness

Let your largeness dine in my mouth
Suffuse my tongue with your fun-loving
And stunning hunkiness
And as you **** faster
Moan madly, talk nastier, delectable legs spread
You shoot ripe and juicy **** everywhere
m salitsky Aug 2013
“Darlin if you want to love me you have to be Brave”    aug 2013

Darlin if you want to love me you have to be brave
could you love me when I am empty
drained of goodness, and my iniquity prevails?

Darlin if you want  to love me you have to be brave
tired and worn out, relieved of passion
only two bags of necessities remain,

Darlin if you want to love me you have to be brave
my cart balances me, I can only push it 10 feet
until its wheels are freshly lubed with rain,

Darlin if you want to love me you have to be brave
my load is lighter now, my standing prayer,
my god make me lighter until I can float to you.

Darlin if you want to love me you have to be brave
I won’t be there for you in what time remains,
its’ not more, but less, is best, my cadaver explains.
John B Nov 2015
Gaped by a fence post wrapped in razor wire

By a starving aids infested flaming gay vampire

While a pack of memorized apes fling ****

And get lubed up for full contact *******
Macstoire Feb 2014
This field feels the rhythm
The ground beneath me beats
And the breeze gently hums
To harmonise a choir who bring back the love
In an echo that electrifies the sole

Never has a day started better
Than with ****** Mary in generous glugs
To wash away the lingering ache
of the devilish night before
and I find myself in my element
celebrating the knight of nowhere
conquest reign to the wobbly log

From my horizontal viewpoint
I’m soaking up the suns shining rays
Whilst overlooking jesters fight sock wars with small children
But my skin wont suffer for these friendly strangers
Have lubed me up with their compassionate oil
No-ones really a stranger in this Small World, so it seems
Not if the tug-of-war has anything to do with it

The eclectic collection of eccentric events
Is rounded off delightfully when we sit
together in a burning sauna
to outlet amongst ourselves the toxins
absorbed as an energetic additive to the atmosphere
At this festival everyone is your friend
and there’s no shame in ****** here

In close proximity we endure the heat
Until we are saturated in sweat
and then plunge ourselves one-by-one
into a bath shared with mischievous children
making weapons of the ice cold jets

Feeling fresh faced and cleaner than before
I finalise the feeling of freedom as a **** pull-along
For a child’s’ home-made truck
The juveniles journey accelerates as my liberation overwhelms me
I’m fulfilling an accomplishment I never dreamt I’d meet

But the succeeding element of this festive environment that I most enjoy
Is the fact that here none of this is odd
Linguistic Play Sep 2014
3mw
grinding gears lubed with tears, conks of fears
watching our lives in third person
cause one, I took the train
and second couldn't find his shoes so he never left the house
removed and removed
washing liquid down to feel something new
like maybe just a few more stabs of caffeine and my eyes will open
press the shutter release for just a few more shots
cause what the **** are we going to do
every step is emulsion on this best selling picture
throw the negatives in the drawers, junk
like if its not seen it doesn't mean nothing
like the junkies sinking into the street
waging wars with humanity and street signs
signs hanging when our streets change from alphabets
to bets with god for the latest meal
its a modern day last supper
like sup girl whispers through the table
drown the woes of dinner conversation in the chances to kiss her
because sense only reaches as far as our toes
walk with confidence, but our brains have lost it
what you see is what you get
put your best foot next, one in front of the other
trained at birth to fool our limbs
to contort to our latest whim
washed out like our denim washes
**** him
dnoble081 May 2014
I stand sleeping
crushed in the softness of my bed,
dark, bottomless, heavy.
i stand sleeping
My tube lubed
my head pounded, active, silent.
I lie sleeping awake, lost nigh and day.
No end no beginning,
I stand dreaming.
Excuses are worth living
Without them what would we live for?
Sighs and gasps of air
show how scared of life we can be
both as love and enemy
Dog tired, what the **** does that mean?
licked lapped loved into sickness
Why do I do this?
I stand sleeping, dreaming, silent, motionless, scared.
The roar, clanking, rhythm of metal
cold, remorseless,
bombards my haze
awakens me, oxidizes me,
A reaction unstoppable
til balance reached
and night and day become one.
one life, one soul, one mind.
Silence of a life unsound.
I stand.
zebra Nov 2019
just a naked light bulb
obsessed
with the swimming shadow i cast

slushy brained
with a ****** iota of a heart
driven by the loneness machine
that keeps me company

modernity grows black metal teeth
technology
nothing quite works anymore
except the inflexibility of algorithm's

they are my slave
and I do what they say

my upload is down loading
to a disappearing file
marked nervous breakdown
on a blinking screen of high velocity electrons
apocalypse of endless virtual hysteria
in a spectrum of LiteBrite

my wife screams vomitus epithets
at the computer
every ****** day
***** **** stupid ***

but
on the other hand
i dont need to navigate
the complexity of human relationship's
any more

i like my new virtual girlfriends
***** with long legs and *******
with her lesbian friends
playing in a barrel of lubed ******
and **** thingamajigs
preggo, and *****,
having *******
licking edible *** beads
with her best friends
Hypno girl
Kink Ya
LiL Red
Toxic Candy
Slutty Bunny
and
**** Bait Bon Bon

a cabal of delicate feminine monsters
Subs and Doms
like a garnish of pimentos
red fire kimchee ****
and sweet butter pickles
and if i lose a girl friend 
the spiders will find me a new one

i'm just a man getting on with life
driven by the loneness machine
that keeps me company

i'm just a man getting on with life
driven by the loneness machine
that keeps me company
the dirty poet Mar 2019
it was the greatest sputum sample ever collected in this hospital
the guy wasn’t coughing, he wasn’t doing anything
except lay there like a dead fish
we’d smash the ezpap mask on his face to inflate his lungs
useless
the doctor asked me to get a sputum sample to see what was growing in there
"the guy does nothing," i said.  "he doesn’t cough"
"can you NT suction him?"
push a plastic catheter up his nose, into his lungs
"that’s pretty invasive for a sputum sample"
"can you do it?"
"yeah i can…  i never have for that, but i can…"
so i go in with his nurse and my student
i have the catheter ready, all lubed up
i’d want a lot of **** if it was my nose
but first i put a sample jar under his mouth
and say "look dude, i need you to spit in this cup"
i don’t know if he’s listening or what
"if you can’t do it i’m gonna go up your nose with a rubber hose
it doesn’t hurt exactly but you’re not gonna like it
but i won’t do it if you can spit in this cup"
his eyes are half open
he’s possibly considering it
"COME ON DUDE, SPIT IN THE CUP!  HOCK A LOOGIE!"
then we hear a rumble
it’s like the awakening of a volcano
"DO IT!  HOCK A LOOGIE!"
we hear it coming up the pipe
"YES!  DO IT!"
it sounds substantial and it keeps coming
i open his mouth and holy mackerel
there’s a gallon of yellow mucus
it’s astronomical, a ******* tidal wave
i shake the cup under his mouth
"SPIT!  DO IT!"
but he doesn’t spit
his mouth is full as a bucket
but it’s not going anywhere
"give me that yankeur," i say to the nurse
she gives me the stiff suction wand
i don’t even plug it into the vacuum
i just use it to scoop the phlegm from his mouth into the cup
"o my god," says my student
she’s getting an education today
i keep scooping, filling the cup
"wow," says the nurse
she’s seen a lot but she’s never seen **** like this
"ALRIGHT, DUDE," i say, capping the cup, laughing
it’s the greatest sputum sample in the history of the world
David Bojay Apr 2019
little to know
So much to assume
(You know what happens when that goes down)
Reflecting out the hues of blue
Embodied by the mental constructs coming out my ******* tube of lubed up thoughts I chose to pursue
with nothing to lose
So much to do
With no point
But a check mark in my list of “to do’s”
thoughts of you
I wish you weren’t so cute
Drowning in brews
Walking with no clue
When I finally know
I’ll remain aware of the cues
Facing a doom
A “SELF” to understand and diminish in the fleeing moments only awareness captures
The knowing essence

nothing to lose

With a mind glued to views untrue to me and you

when every moment is ANEW
awareness
This love. Consumed by reality. I've lost all gravity. I won't tip my hat that easy. Too many sleezy greasys getting their hair lubed up too easy. Where's the mechanic to repair this despair and iron our lulus affairs, I'd like to smoke a cigar with the mayor and ask him of his cares. We can only hope that one day their wealth is shared. Life is just not fair that's why dance and prance and glance at a new stance of romance. We won't find the *** of gold until we take a chance. Tear up the pants. Take a second glance and look all around you, this is Paradise, climb a tree to see wise, come over at 3 I'll make you some rice, don't dare to act twice, once is enough to hear the Volcanoe rawr. The little weezles implore to conquer a new score, sit back relax and just soar.  I weep to sleep. Let's trash the creep. The hills to steep but this riselience is summit deep. The old Hatter takes her needle to sow and reep, classic skills to perceive so neat, you mustn't forget to wash your feet. Save your brilliance for in between the sheets. **** the Twitter birds tweets, too much blabber, not enough gladier., walkity walk walk, put a boot in your talk talk. A chicken goes boc boc, so shut it before you get **** socked
Andrew Jul 2018
This land is bent
As yucca lingers *****;
Firm beetles push into soft
Sand, where soiled climates
Wet.

The arroyo is bloodshot and
Drunk, ******* rocks
Lay naked in sweat beneath
A colorful horizon of a smoked
Cigarette.

The moon, lubed, rises yellow
Bliss over ******* of
Red mountains embraced in
Night’s hard pressed
Kiss.

The stars are asleep and
Yet they keep a memory of
Love between juniper sheets;
Where you and I, and I
Weep.

The ****** sun is
Thrusting high, the day is
Climaxed in birdsong cry, without
Ever having to grasp (alas)
Goodbye.
Ryan O'Leary Jun 2018
Swallows flying with shut
beaks catching no pesticides-

Death Valley Lubed.
In Provence, The Luberon Valley is so over sprayed with chemicals, everyone here dies of cancer, Do Not visit Provence.
Dr. Beter: organic robotoids contain ultra-sonic cerebral holograms
These replications aren't clones as they don't possess brain engrams
Our dimensional quasi-reality demands androidal & robotic shams
are lubed to preclude jumps, squeals, fits, jolts, high spikes & jams
so as to dissipate external heat that'd be of a degree to roast lambs,
donkey-sized ponies, Senator Hugh Scott's flunkies & Easter hams,
ewes, Secretary James Forrestal's corpse and tubally-sterilized rams
to be retailed by the Walton/Walmart Chinese club known as Sam's

— The End —