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|porno mouth (standard:drama, 688 words)|
|Author: morgan||Added: May 14 2008||Views/Reads: 1715/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|this story is about loss and grieving|
She has a tendency to take everything I pride myself on and pull it apart at the fucking seams. And then there she is twitching and mewling on the bed like a tortured kitten. Road kill just waiting to be scooped up in the night and eaten, fingers licked clean, bones plucked from the teeth. Fingers coiled and wound, fingers on fire set the mattress ablaze. Dirty poetry falling from her mouth like cookie crumbs. Nasty words that make me all a twitter. This hotel is the dirtiest by far. Dried cum stains on the bedspread. Bad lighting that turns her skin sallow and mine an eerie green. She has the hardcore fuck flick blaring as loud as the 1956 television will permit. Hair matted on the dirty pillowcase, her naked body oozing from every pore. Slick and shiny she's like an eel. She embodies the word wet. Every single part of her is greased up and oily. Water pools from every hole just for me to drink from and me alone. Clothes strewn about the room, I shed mine for fun. She lies with her arms stretched across the bed, head bowed, just like Jesus. She's crucified every night for our sins, the ones we commit in this room. The sound of a nail splintering wood is deafening and her mouth bursts open to plead for some sort of mercy, divine intervention that will never come. Nothing gets better and people never change, he'll never come back. He's buried six feet under with both of our hearts clenched tightly in his fist. We have only one another, there's nothing left of him besides what he left inside us. The lies that gnaw at my intestines, the hate he left in my throat making it impossible to swallow. Thighs part like the red sea, she use to love the bible, she use to love being one of gods creatures. Now she has no use for god, all of her rosaries are stored in her underwear drawer collecting dust. Her tongue forked long ago, he left her destroyed and left me wanting. I'm in as deep as possible, swallowed up to my elbow as I try to find him inside of her, try to pull him out. Her head snaps from side to side as if she's coming out from an exorcism. Every night I try to find him, try to rip him out so he can be mine again. And for a moment he's there, swollen lips, twisted grin screaming my name. For a moment he wants me again and were both seventeen and diseased but happy. He's underneath my small hands begging me to stay just a little while longer. The world is blue and purple again and it smells like spring all around me. I bloom when he touches me and decay as soon as she cums. Blonde hair glued to her forehead hollering his name like a hallelujah. There I am again on top of this foul mouthed distraction asking me to rub it till it bleeds. She says that the porn reminds her of him, his porno mouth. She just can't keep her hands to herself these days, little fuck machine. Yet I understand what she means. He always did seem coated in sex, dripping with it and now that's her. Legs constantly spread for me, asking me to do it like him, asking god for forgiveness. The movie ends and it's time to go. She grabs my wrist and asks me to rewind it, so she can pretend he's there. I look at the screen and think of the twin towers coming down and how at that moment he should have been there so we could have watched the world fall apart together. Collect my belongings and listen to her cry herself to sleep. Me, the butcher that came for fresh meat to slaughter. Me, the walking corpse. She tells me she's going to kill herself if I go. I ignore the sound of tearing flesh as I picture his porno mouth. The seventeen year old boy that I'm still dying to touch. Tweet
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