- Erotic Poetry
- At the atelier
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in NY for the weekend
I went shopping for some art -
perhaps a pretty poster
by a chic modern master
for the back room in my house.
Lured into your studio
I turned around for a kiss
but was bent on a table
and jerked onto your stiff cock.
I gasped and quivered and cooed
until you released your grip.
Still in throes of orgasm,
I collapsed onto my knees
and allowed your creamy dick
to wipe across my flushed face -
as if a canvas of flesh.
I wore it on the subway
as a badge of abandon,
a keepsake of nastiness,
and the sweet thought of your cock.
Its the only art I got.
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