Contributor: Misti Rainwater-Lites
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They met at a poetry reading. Billy was the star poet. He sold six copies of his latest poetry collection, Use A Dick. Lori was a fan. Billy’s biggest fan ever, she claimed.
“Would you sign my book, please?” Lori asked Billy with a shy smile. Billy couldn’t take his eyes off Lori’s considerable cleavage.
“Certainly. What’s your name, babe?” Billy asked.
“Lori,” Lori said with a giggle.
Billy signed the book and handed it to Lori with a wink. Lori read the inscription. _Lori, I’d love to use my dick on you. Love & Stuff, Billy._ Lori blushed and giggled. She grabbed Billy’s black pen and scrawled her phone number on his left forearm.
“I’ll never wash my arm again,” Billy said.
The wino motel room lacked ambiance but Billy and Lori weren’t there for candles and roses. They weren't there for Rod Stewart and his ridiculous raspy lies. They weren't there for crown molding and champagne eclipse drapes. They weren't there for Monet prints and exquisite fern colored carpet.
Lori moaned as Billy spilled cheap merlot on her gargantuan breasts and licked it off. Billy sucked on Lori’s erect nipples. Lori grabbed Billy’s hair and begged for his dick.
“You want my dick, baby?” Billy murmured in Lori’s ear.
“Fuck yes I want it!”
“Where do you want it, sweetness?”
“I want it deep inside my pussy. My pussy is starving for your sweet dick.”
At least a dozen new poems, long ones, formed and pulsated in Billy’s brain as he used his dick on Lori, as he surrendered his dick to Lori’s throbbing pussy. Someday maybe he’d write the fuckers down.
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I like to drink beer and play with my vibrator.
- -
They met at a poetry reading. Billy was the star poet. He sold six copies of his latest poetry collection, Use A Dick. Lori was a fan. Billy’s biggest fan ever, she claimed.
“Would you sign my book, please?” Lori asked Billy with a shy smile. Billy couldn’t take his eyes off Lori’s considerable cleavage.
“Certainly. What’s your name, babe?” Billy asked.
“Lori,” Lori said with a giggle.
Billy signed the book and handed it to Lori with a wink. Lori read the inscription. _Lori, I’d love to use my dick on you. Love & Stuff, Billy._ Lori blushed and giggled. She grabbed Billy’s black pen and scrawled her phone number on his left forearm.
“I’ll never wash my arm again,” Billy said.
The wino motel room lacked ambiance but Billy and Lori weren’t there for candles and roses. They weren't there for Rod Stewart and his ridiculous raspy lies. They weren't there for crown molding and champagne eclipse drapes. They weren't there for Monet prints and exquisite fern colored carpet.
Lori moaned as Billy spilled cheap merlot on her gargantuan breasts and licked it off. Billy sucked on Lori’s erect nipples. Lori grabbed Billy’s hair and begged for his dick.
“You want my dick, baby?” Billy murmured in Lori’s ear.
“Fuck yes I want it!”
“Where do you want it, sweetness?”
“I want it deep inside my pussy. My pussy is starving for your sweet dick.”
At least a dozen new poems, long ones, formed and pulsated in Billy’s brain as he used his dick on Lori, as he surrendered his dick to Lori’s throbbing pussy. Someday maybe he’d write the fuckers down.
- - -
I like to drink beer and play with my vibrator.
Author:
Misti Rainwater-Lites
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