Handmade eroticism runs dry
when one too many thoughts
run amok, simply fuck after
fuck after fuck.
Auto-stimulation loses its candor
like a wave breaks and the surfer
slowly loses his mantle.
Anticipation (till the point of no
return) morphs to a feeling of
wickedness and being on your own.
But yet again and again,
one comes back to the screen
with each hand manned,
ready to scream.
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1 comment:
ladies and gentlemen, please give a hand for all the masturbators! ...ok maybe not
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