A free-verse tale of youthful determinationDedicated to the memory of pioneer Roger Peyrefitte.Bent double, my knobby knees knocked from nerves – he thought.I coughed and cussed.Of course, my back was turned his way.Hands on me, a finger, then two worked in, you know where.I sneezed and cussed.My soft behind sensed his joy at fumbling to fit.I heard his zipper, felt his juiced-up thingPress its way to plunge, to gutter me.I coughed and cussed.Arms, hands squeezing my ribs; his chin, lips, tongue to my nape and earsWere a smothering dream – his own.Flinging himself into me, drowning my tailpipe in cum,It made me cough and sneeze.At every jolt, I writhed and clutched and gave him my best – he thought.He gargled obscenities of passion and love and ever so desperate glory.I sneezed and coughed and cussed.His zest paced slower as lust gave up.He pulled away, blessing the day, and handed me twice my fee.I coughed and cussed.We parted as friends – he thought.I smiled and cleared my throat, blew my nose,Stashed the cash, pulled up my pants and –You know – thus-lubed, went home to PapaFor a capsule of cherry cold-syrup andFor a properFuck.Your path to all my sex-driven, sassy-and-serious literary accomplishments(!) is here on GayDemon.To get in touch with the author,
