It was a story,
An erotic tale,
She fucked time and again,
Hard cocks a daily diet,
Wet cunts abounding,
Sperm coating her thighs,
Ghosts and goblins with erections,
Women with persistent tongues
In her overused pussy,
The words escape me
But not her.
I long to lay between her thoughts
Wanting to caress her moist palms
To run my finger in her wet ink.
As we twist in the ether
Desperate to find release.
My cock spurts erotic phrases
In search of a literary cunt to fill.
She writes on
Tantalizing…
Torturing my inflamed muse.
I ejaculate a poetic coupling
Then expire in frustration.
Her three-hundredth story has been published
And I am once again rejected
Masturbating between the split
Sheets…of paper.
Rejected…..
