Friday, April 15, 2011

Monday, March 7, 2011

Love Song

I wanna write a love song to you
No, I wanna write a fuck song WITH you
A no-holes-barred, all-out, just-for-the-sport-of-it-because-I-feel-like-it FUCK SONG
you step out the shower and I grab you dripping wet body
force My tongue down your throat, tasting that minty fresh toothpaste
My hands roaming all over your body, pinching nipples squeezing your ass
Moans escape as I begin to bite that spot on your neck, tilting your head to the side
The wall supports you as I nudge your knees apart, dropping to the floor
Part your lips and “paddle your pink canoe”
Flicking and kissing and licking and tickling
My hands grab your thighs, kneading the soft flesh
Your hands in My hair, urging Me on – as if I needed it
The deeper I go, the harder you pull
Teeth grazing your little button – I know you like it rough
And you know I like it when you… cum for Daddy.
Time means nothing when My face is in that place that sends you into space
Slurping, swallowing, drinking those juices
you start sliding down the wall as I drive you closer to the edge
put those legs on My shoulders. I got this.
I don’t stop, can’t stop until I hear those words
“please, Daddy can I cum for you”
I laugh, the vibrations confirmation enough
you try to drown Me in your full-body-thank-you
I put you back against the wall just long enough to stand and bend you over the sink
Where I can see you in the mirror
you look at My reflection in the mirror, your eyes pleading for Me to use you, abuse you
I look you dead in the eye, reach back, and smack your ass cheek
(thank you, Daddy)
I reach back, again, and again, until you’re nice and red (and I’m nice and hard)
A hand on each side, splitting you before spitting you
No more preliminaries, seven inches in one stroke
Buried to the hilt
In and out in the age old rhythm
Loving the faces you’re making
My claim I’m staking
your body starts shaking
ain’t no faking the way them knees is quaking
stroking that twat like an ivy league crew
thigh on thigh, a fleshy metronome counting the beats until the end
crescendo. Faster, louder, deeper
My hand on your hips making you back that thing up like a Luke dancer
I feel it, you feel it – and I KNOW the neighbors hear it
Boiling, roiling, building…
(please, Daddy… cum for me!)
you know just how I like it…
I groan, and explode deep inside you, painting your insides…
It’s so good, I can’t stop…
I’m still thrusting as I go soft.
You stand up, kissing My face.
Ok… NOW you can go to work…
When you get back, we’ll work on the second verse…
Of this “fuck song.”

9:20 pm

Sunday, January 23, 2011


I just found out that there is such a thing as a F.I.L.F. (Father I'd Love to Fuck).
I also just found out that I seem to be one (at least in one friends opinion).  "Kenney...mmm my dear could definitely get da good good...Nuf know how too."

What do you think?

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

SECRETARY - Save me - James Spader & Maggie Gyllenhaal

I am having a very D moment. Deal with it.


Where is My shoulder to cry on?
When is it My chance to bare My soul
Without fear of overlaid opinions
Self-centered interruptions
Selective deafness
Tuning out what doesn’t benefit directly
Everything except instant gratification
Instant sublimation
Even Atlas had a moment to place down his burden
Walk away from the situation
But apparently I get no pardon
No time off for good behavior
So, to all those who take and take and take and take

12:53 AM