Shakeitallabouter

Shakeitallabouter

Inner, outer, shakeitallabouter. Lovely, yearning, physical sex.

Sweat pouring and dripping from my partner's nose. Once clothed, now
unclothed. She teases. She strips. And I wait with lustful
anticipation. Getting harder.

Dancing naked. Van Morrison playing on the radio.

"Turn it up! Burn it up!"

A glowing, energetic, and body-wobbling moment.

Off I go to the kitchen. It's cold. Cold and naked. Be quick. Food!
Food and sex! Sex with food. Another pleasure. The taste of peanut
butter wedged into her bellybutton. Tomato slices are placed onto my
bulging stomach, the acidic juices flowing into cracks and crevices.
But there's nothing I can do about that now. They are devoured,
sometimes slowly, suggestively, sometimes quickly, animalistically,
tearing into the flesh. Food and sex. Sustenance, transcendental,
physical.
I put on my cowboy hat. I put on my boots. Now I'm a cowboy in a
fantasy game. My partner shrills an excited laugh. Pride surfaces for a
moment. No need to deal with that now.

'Go away, no place for you here.'

Mind wandering, pride gone. Forgotten for awhile.

'Sex!'

Inner, outer, shakeitallabouter.