.carnal, .lareisa griner

all the calculated dates that

you set up to strip and rip the

belts and boots off boys

you didn’t really care for, but

 

sucked (and sucked) the life out of

anyway. those days started when

you were barely eighteen and

you found how much you love to tease your

 

sex like a toy raised

over all their groaning heads,

making them whisper wants they

couldn’t handle;

 

irresponsible. the months slipped on while

you left wet trails of tongue all

across their backs and balls, yet

none of them entered through your pretty pink gates.

 

no matter how hard they knocked or

tried to twist their keys.

control was something you had until

this one laid his out on spread sheets and

 

left the knocking for

your own hands.

nothing forced or

coerced, just the gentle

 

kiss of hips;

no ‘i want to fuck-you-so-bad’s’; just licks

and lips and licks. everything

in sync: mind with mouth, above

 

and below. your gates flooded; he

played as your dam. (then) in and out, you

laid back with your mouth wide and

noisy as your body was pushed and pleased.

 

and afterwards, did you feel like someone who just

reached the other side of life?

of heaven: a once forbidden paradise?