Windows rattled, buffeted by the storm
Door locked against the goose-pimpling cold
Lights off, 1950s bar heater suffusing
My bedroom with a warm, secret, orange glow.
These things I noticed, in trepidation
Forestalling, mentally edging
As a towel was laid upon the carpet. and a small mirror
Propped against the heater as silent witness.
Chest and scrotum tight, root of my manhood
Aching and throbbing
I lie, legs spread, revelling in the concentrated heat
As slowly my legs raise and clean, moist, passage peeks into view.
Missed! A gasp
As frigid lube lands on my swollen sack
Painfully delicious, as it slowly trickles, and then
Waterfalls pleasure onto virgin ground.
The mirror stares back at me
It’s gauzy mask lifting
As pre-cum coats my stomach
And passage pulses with heartbeat.
Sacred object presented for mirrored communion
A nine-inch-nail, a spear of ecstasy
Stretching, a gasp, mirrored eyes roll back
As the veiny lance itches itself deeper.
Darkened windows rattle, startled
I look up and wonder if someone stares in, do they
Witnesses my debasement
Or desire my newfound freedom?
The distraction allows inches to snake inside
Stretched, impaled like never before
Squirming and moaning
I am crucified on nine levels of pleasure.
When the earthquake subsides
Only greater reaming sates
The burning itch deep inside
Hours pass to the beat of schlop, schlop, schlop.
Finally spent, the nail falls from my passage
Fingers inquire – two…three…four
Tears of mingled joy and shame
For the gaping door to my new playground.