Categories
POEMS

Johnny

He started out with his head down,
an almost-innocent little creature.
Soft rim,
Soft core.
He was capable of more,
You could see it in his veins.
He thought starting out small made him redundant,
but what he didn't realise...
Was that if he chose to,
He could become a force bigger than reality itself;
Something bigger than you and me.
Something only your mother could calm down.
For once he freed himself from the weight of fear and doubt,
he was free to grow into the phenomenon he was meant to be,
beautiful, masculine, characteristic. Avant-garde. 
A profile almost Greek-like,
but fatter.
(And longer).
A totem poll of individuality,
Vomiting creation and progression itself.
A COCK SO BIG IT'S SCARY.

Now when at large, he silently roars
with blood rushing through veins.
Muscles twitching. Bulging. 
A structured base as firm as timber.
A head as thicc as the Bible.
With this strength and knowledge he responds to the call of duty,
Knowing in his pulse that
He, is the true hero of his story.
A hero who stands to face every morning
Not because he's a shower but
because he's a grower.
Categories
POEMS

The sorceress that made my dick hard.

Her love handles are engraved with pale stretch marks
Slim stomach, small price tag of fat tucked into her high-waisted jeans.
Face: average
Body: Average
Her calves are skinny and her feet look a size 4
Her hair a mane, voluminous, dressed in hair grease
Her eyes sparkle, not like a newborn baby's but
I would fuck her.
I don't want to fuck her,
I wouldn't go out of my way to fuck her.
But if given the chance,
and she came asking for my dick,
I would most calmly and humbly take her to the closest toilet
and fuck her doggystyle with one foot on the toilet.
It's not that I see her as a 'sexual object',
I'm just not sexually attracted to her.
But I would fuck her.
I would because of the ultimate fact that
She wants me.

I sense it when she gazes at me thinking I have no peripheral vision.
I sense it every time she slowly whooshes past me,  seeing a need to "touch" my open flesh.
I sense it when she says "Hey, how was your day?".
Nobody cares about how my day was.
Others say I'm dreaming, hallucinating
But how can you show proof for instinct?
The Law of Attraction is something you just know,
Not something you can show.
It's her attitude, it's not her seducing me.
It's the way she's so positive about salivating on my erect penis.
most people don't do that.
Most people do vacuum phalluses but
most people don't talk about it.
That turns me on.
Her mindset.
It's easy yet enticing,
the right balance to take on any challenge.
It wants to lock me down and allocate me my punishment:
Cumming in her face then never seeing her again.
I may be doomed but
This, I can live with.

The jokes that give me an erection,
The play-fighting that gives me an erection,
It's all part of her mind's plan to rape me.
It's working.
But she has to complete the final phase;
She needs to ask me to have sex.
It's the choice that we all have to make in order to grow,
"Should I ask to fuck or nah?".
I could never chase my prey just to catch some tail,
I may stay for the meat but then I shall recluse back into the wild.
I could never ask her to give her the leverage of thinking that I want her.
My ego would be torn, my pride shredded,
My reputation, folded and permanently creased in my mind.
Plus I don't have the balls to ask her out of my deep-seated fear of rejection and fragile emotional stability.
But if I did ask her, she'd probably say yes.
But alas, it seems like we're probably not going to fuck.
Makes me feel sad but not defeated.
A conquest is never failed if the troops were never rallied.
I hope she changes her mind down the line and contacts me.
If not I'll just have to keep fucking girls that fit my standards to forget the pain.