Room 34
she always kept a rose
somewhere in her home.
and when she invited me over
one day, it was as if I had witness a four-leaf clover
blossom right in front of me.
“sorry if the place is a bit of a mess,”
she said.
“nonsense,” I told her.
she lived right up on Broadway Rd.,
just a few blocks away from where I worked.
it looked like an old home from Venice
or some part of Italy.
naked, what with only a pair of Chava panties
and a Victoria’s Secret bra,
pink with black lining, she
asked me if I wanted a glass of wine.
I nodded.
She had a marvelous ass
when she went about her place.
and every moment I was around her,
I felt the smoke from the cigarette
well up inside of me with a thunderous
grey glow.
“I have to go powder my nose,
understand?” she said.
“Of course, go ahead.”
few moments passed
then I heard
“GOD DAMN IT, SON OF A BITCH!”
I ran into the bathroom
and there
she was,
gloriously spread open,
pussy as pink as I imagined it so.
she had blood really coming down
her right hand.
“I slipped and cut myself
on something. son of a bitch … look at that?”
she said, mesmerized by her own blood.
I helped her up and went into the
kitchen to get a cloth. I heard another
scream from next door.
“YOU BITCH! HOW DARE YOU FUCK HIM?”
a man shouted in room 34.
we were room 33.
“does that happen a lot?”
I said as I poured alcohol on her
wound and twisted the cloth around her hand.
“every saturday, but I think this time
she really fucked up. he’s never been this mad
at her before. normally, he’ll throw a few
things or call her names and then they
would fuck.”
she began to rub her other hand under my
hairy white legs all while I worked
on her wound.
“you have such beautiful legs, Chris …”
she kissed hairs on the back of my
neck,
then my shoulders,
then my arms …
i finished with her arm and began to work
on her mouth.
in room 34, we heard the pounding of flesh
and a bed all against the wall next to us.
“oh, look at that …” she said.
“he must have forgiven her. lucky bitch.
I hear the guy fucks like a hurricane on
steroids …”
i licked her insides
poking God’s finger with my tongue
and thought of the couple in room 34.
a part of me felt for them
while the other part of me
wondered how the “bitch” must fuck
if the guy forgave her so
easily.
somewhere in her home.
and when she invited me over
one day, it was as if I had witness a four-leaf clover
blossom right in front of me.
“sorry if the place is a bit of a mess,”
she said.
“nonsense,” I told her.
she lived right up on Broadway Rd.,
just a few blocks away from where I worked.
it looked like an old home from Venice
or some part of Italy.
naked, what with only a pair of Chava panties
and a Victoria’s Secret bra,
pink with black lining, she
asked me if I wanted a glass of wine.
I nodded.
She had a marvelous ass
when she went about her place.
and every moment I was around her,
I felt the smoke from the cigarette
well up inside of me with a thunderous
grey glow.
“I have to go powder my nose,
understand?” she said.
“Of course, go ahead.”
few moments passed
then I heard
“GOD DAMN IT, SON OF A BITCH!”
I ran into the bathroom
and there
she was,
gloriously spread open,
pussy as pink as I imagined it so.
she had blood really coming down
her right hand.
“I slipped and cut myself
on something. son of a bitch … look at that?”
she said, mesmerized by her own blood.
I helped her up and went into the
kitchen to get a cloth. I heard another
scream from next door.
“YOU BITCH! HOW DARE YOU FUCK HIM?”
a man shouted in room 34.
we were room 33.
“does that happen a lot?”
I said as I poured alcohol on her
wound and twisted the cloth around her hand.
“every saturday, but I think this time
she really fucked up. he’s never been this mad
at her before. normally, he’ll throw a few
things or call her names and then they
would fuck.”
she began to rub her other hand under my
hairy white legs all while I worked
on her wound.
“you have such beautiful legs, Chris …”
she kissed hairs on the back of my
neck,
then my shoulders,
then my arms …
i finished with her arm and began to work
on her mouth.
in room 34, we heard the pounding of flesh
and a bed all against the wall next to us.
“oh, look at that …” she said.
“he must have forgiven her. lucky bitch.
I hear the guy fucks like a hurricane on
steroids …”
i licked her insides
poking God’s finger with my tongue
and thought of the couple in room 34.
a part of me felt for them
while the other part of me
wondered how the “bitch” must fuck
if the guy forgave her so
easily.