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

3.3.11