his prick

Posted on in humiliation, poetry

merely a pet
nothing more, quite easily much less
a whispered white lie
between lily white sheets
stained now and then
here, there
because it’s a crying shame
that’s all there is, don’t you know?

no no no
don’t mete your pity
it’s all his fault
after all
he wouldn’t be anywhere but here

he knows the shame
he owns the blame

5 Responses to “his prick”

  1. Just a quick note to say I’ve enjoyed your writing and I’ll be back for more

  2. i wouldn’t be anywhere but here

  3. I can’t believe a body gets to read all of this for free. Simply incredible. Started with a random google hit on “cuckold story”. Fifteen clicks later, I was more than hooked. Thirty and I’d peruse your grocery lists with ingenuous, expectant eyes.

    https://blisteredlips.net/erotica/when-the-muse-wants-to-fuck/

    And yet more. A trip down memory lane to sentence-diagramming days of fourth grade. (Yet somehow I don’t recall it being this hot.)

    I hope the muse keeps having his way with you. I would gladly clean his indigo from your blotter, if these are the fruits your passions with him conceive.

    Shaking my head in wonderment. (Did I mention that?)

  4. Hi lovely. I love this so much, gorgeous.

    Lovely usage of the word ‘mete’. ;)

    ♥la petite

  5. Thanks everybody. I guess a “dirty” mind is a terrible thing to waste.

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